His eyes roamed my features, and his smile merely grew. “You have forty-eight hours.”
The audience behind us gasped.
It was only because of my expectations of his horrid nature that I didn’t join them.
Niallan leaned forward. “That is unreasonable.” His voice was even, maybe bored.
“That is my challenge.”
Lord Belshazzar, as the leader, could not speak against the limitations or the Challenge itself. He could, though, see the raging anger in my eyes and nodded in acknowledgment of it. “Lord Cato, are you sure this is the Challenge you wish to issue?”
“I am,” he said. “A true queen must be able to act quickly and without hesitation.”
Nial cleared his throat and sat back, mumbling quietly, “He’s gonna regret that.”
“Something to say, Master Niallan?” Cato tossed an evil eye in his direction.
“No, your lordshit.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing, sir.”
“Mind your place.”
“I’ll try.”
I swore I heard him mumble something else, but I didn’t have time for his snide attitude. I grabbed the folder. This was a Sisyphean task, like all of these stupid fucking Challenges. Something seemingly simple crammed into a box of impossible.
I wanted that throne. I would have it.
I slammed the folder shut. “I assume you will be watching?”
“Of course.” Cato nodded.
Standing, I grabbed the folder off the desk and pushed my chair back. “Then mark the clock. You will have your Challenge completed in forty-eight hours.” I stepped out from behind the table and marched to the hallway that led to my apartments.
This was ridiculous. I could just hunt the guy, kill him, and leave his legacy in a shambles. I could do any number of things and be done with this in just a few hours. There had to be something to this. Cato was the biggest, most arrogant asshole I’d ever known.
“What are you thinking, Gwen?” Adelie asked as I passed into the hall, away from the overlords.
“I think I need to feed and think more on this.”
“He’s a deceptive son of a bitch.” She threw a look at the chamber where the overlords were addressing the crowd. “He’s not being upfront about what this really is—”
“I know, Adelie.” I adored her, but she was stating the obvious and would be doing so for the next hour if I didn’t shut her up. “I know. I have to go through this file. I need you to go to the library and look up as much information on this...Timothy Ginter as you can.”
“I can use the computer in the study,” she said. “The library has restrictions on it, and I don’t want to fight those.”
“Why are there restrictions on the computers there?” I cocked my head, curious.
“Because God forbid the masses get their hands on information to overthrow the Council.”
“Overthrow?”
“You really think they rule with honesty?” Nial asked.
I jerked at the sound of his voice, my shoulders tensing.
Once again, he had snuck up on me. Fucking druid.
“Am I supposed to believe the masses don’t know about the lies?” I looked him up and down—and suppressed the intimate shiver that tried to claw up my spine. “And what the hell are you doing here? I need time to read this junk.”
“I am your Monitor for this Challenge, Gwynnore. Lord Belshazzar ordered it just now. I shadow you everywhere.”
Fucking jackass!
Why was he doing this to me?
My blood boiled, wanting to throttle the overlord.
But, my asshole father’s advice flittered in my mind.
Don’t let the heart get involved. This was business.
I breathed through it. Breathe.
I attempted to hedge, “Good, you can—”
“Do nothing.” He held up his tan hand. “I can do nothing. I’m merely here to make sure that you follow the rules of the Challenge. Stop the act.”
I was going to have this son of a bitch following me the whole time.
Now, I wished I hadn’t fucked him.
I didn’t need easy temptation hanging around. Just more complications. I pushed through the door to my apartments and tossed the file on my desk in the study.
“I need to feed, Adelie.”
“Of course.” She scurried out of the room to find me a suitable source of blood.
Nial settled into the chair, grabbing a book off the shelf. He tossed his legs over the side and started paging through. “Remember, they’re watching.”
“Remember, you’re a pain in my ass and need to just stay quiet, you prick.”
“Mmm. You didn’t think that last night.”
“Shut up, Niallan.”
I soundly ignored him and turned away, walking over to my desk. I would allow him to live—right now—because I didn’t want the overlords too pissed at me. I flopped the idiotic folder open again and stared at the human. He’d be tasty. I could do this easily. Find him, fuck him in full view of the public, and leave him to rot in the aftermath.
Humans and their fragile sexuality.
They were so shy about taking their pleasure, making sure no one else could see them.
Caught on camera, that would be enough humiliation to do him in.
So what was this? What was the catch?
I started reading through the file.
Timothy Ginter, millionaire. Entrepreneur. There were lines and lines of paperwork describing transactions that read like fraud, embezzlement, laundering. Money had become complicated. People didn’t hoard gold and gems anymore. There were some who still did, like Lord Belshazzar and Lord Pippin, but there were others who had moved along in their financial savvy and no longer held those.
I was not going to be one of the individuals who gave up her hoard, either, to this new investment style or to anyone who was looking for it.
But if this political hopeful was embezzling, why would Cato want me after him? Why specifically humiliate him? I tapped on my computer, running a search on the Internet for this man. Hundreds upon hundreds of articles appeared. Interviews, articles, more financial advice.
Cato was after him because of money. He had to be.
But what about the money? Why specifically this man?
I didn’t have much time. I knew the other overlords would want to see cunning and insight put into this. I couldn’t just go there, fuck him, and let the press handle it. I had to be smart about this.
The cell phone on my desk pinged, and I picked it up.
Adelie was ready for me.
I stood to head where I would partake of the fresh blood—and stopped. Glancing over at Nial in the chair, I reconsidered. We held humans in the dungeons as chattel—some willing, some not. We snacked on them like they were cookies and pastries. We dined on them, draining them to the point of death. We had preferred locations, necks or wrists.
Was it any wonder these vampires around us were pathetic? Where was the hunt? Where was the prize? Where was the pure sexual release in taking nourishment from the prey we had tracked and coaxed to remember nothing and to live only if we chose?
Where was the kill anymore?
I texted Adelie. Never mind. I’m going hunting later.
I sat down to read more of the file I had, needing to tease out what was going on here.
Seconds later, the door burst open. Adelie stumbled inside. “You’re going to hunt?”
“Later. I need to—”
“Hunt what?” Nial asked, disinterested.
I snorted. “My dinner.”
He peered over his book. “Dinner, eh?”
“Master Niallan, tell her she can’t. A queen would never hunt her dinner. It’s—”
“I’m not the queen yet, am I?” I snapped.
“But you are the candidate.”
I slammed my hand on the desk. “I am not the queen yet. I don’t want to be fed. I want to hunt. I want to go
out and find blood that will sustain me on my own.”
“Gwen has a point.” Nial yawned, bored with her argument.
Adelie looked at him. “She needs to stay here, safe.”
“Nowhere that creep Cato roams is safe.”
“Master Niallan!”
He sighed and held the book up, his tone full of false pleas. “Oh, Gwen, please don’t go out and find your own food—like the hunter you are.”
In a fleet movement, my best friend was in front of Nial’s chair and flipped him up and over in it. “You ass! If she goes out and hunts for her meal, who knows what will happen!”
“She might, I don’t know, eat?” He mocked, picking himself up off the floor and brushing off his pants. Then he took one step forward. Nial placed his intimidating body directly in front of hers, dwarfing Adelie’s tiny frame. His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as his gaze ran over each of her features. On the quietest growl, he hissed, “And if you dare to touch me again, vampire, no one will find your remains. Understand?”
Sizzling energy crackled inside my apartments, his power trickling out.
I held still, locking my legs.
My lungs seized, no air flowing.
I wanted to bow down to that power.
Uncontrollable. Untamable. Immense and raw.
Dark and disheveled. Hungry. Barbaric.
An Original’s power. Only a pin drop of it.
And I was ready to lick his feet. Lick each of his toes to clean off any filth.
I ground my jaws together, my frame vibrating.
Do not move. Do not move.
Adelie’s forehead hit the floor as she knelt, unable to do anything else.
She sputtered on a gasp, “My apologies, Original.”
Still…he stared down at her.
Contempt radiated from him.
I heaved in a lungful of oxygen by mere force of will, then I flipped the table next to me with shaking muscles. All to gain his attention. “Cut the shit, Nial.”
Smoldering eyes flicked in my direction.
One second. Two seconds.
Gradually, the power dissipated.
I breathed a wobbly sigh of relief.
My eyes landed on the mess I’d just made in my study. Anything not to look into his powerful eyes. Eyes that could steal all my power. Sinful and indulgent…and terrifying as hell.
I walked around the table and picked up a sheet that had spilled out and across my floor. Unbidden, a small smile flittered across my lips. Here was my ‘in.’ Here was the way I could destroy the human. I looked over to where the two idiots were pulling themselves together.
I stated, calmly, “Get my weapons, Adelie. Nial, go do whatever it is you need to do. I know where to start, and I only have forty-seven and a half hours to make Cato happy.”
* * *
The house in front of me was a grand affair, and I was only looking at the structure from the back. There were dozens of windows and doors, most of the rooms beyond dark and shuttered.
The only lights were in the kitchen and the living room, where a solitary figure walked between the couch and the refrigerator with predictable regularity. I stood leaning against a tree where even if the woman could see me, I could easily make her forget I was there.
“What are you doing?”
I looked up.
Nial was sitting on a tree branch above me, book in hand, utterly disinterested.
I narrowed my eyes. “What the hell are you doing? Reading on a stakeout?”
“I can’t help. I can only follow.”
“Sheep.”
He glanced down at me. “Rules. Nice view from here though. I’m not complaining. Did you wear the bustiest bra you could find?”
I ignored him. I had hoped he could be somewhat quiet and helpful, but clearly, his idea was to be as annoying as fuck while imitating a chimpanzee. And reading.
“Hello, vampire? My original question went unanswered.”
Rolling my eyes, I responded without looking away from the window. “I’m here because the woman in Ginter’s house is his fiancée. With any luck, I can get her under my Thrall, take a little sip and control her for the next few dozen hours, then find out what I need to know from Ginter to bring him down.”
“Not bad.” I heard him turn the page. He was clearly not impressed.
“Nial, you can’t help me. Just shut up and let me do this.”
A whisper of his magic trailed over my skin and slithered into the top of my shirt.
Down the skin of my breast…
Gathering some strength, I kicked the tree hard enough to rattle the branch, and the book tumbled out of Nial’s hands as he grabbed the branch to hold on. I looked up at him, hissing, “If you try to distract me, Niallan, I will slice your head off your body.”
His lips tilted up at the corners, pure male arrogance. “You could try.”
I ground my teeth together. “And learn to use your magic for something other than copping a feel of my tits.”
He chuckled quietly. Evilly.
“Stay here. You’re my Monitor, so monitor.”
I walked down the hill toward the home in the dark night. No bright moonlight shone down on the earth tonight, which worked out—moonlight could disrupt my Thrall, but most humans couldn’t resist even on a full moon. However, as this was a Challenge, I didn’t want to take a chance. My feet glided soundlessly over the crisp, fallen leaves, and I didn’t even feel the need to conceal myself in any way. Ginter’s house was in the middle of nowhere, and there was no one around. There were a few deer in the back and a sleepy bear, but that was all.
The woman in the house, his fiancée Haley, was my target this evening. She was an unremarkable woman, with a liberal arts degree, poor housekeeping skills, too many shoes, and a standing nail appointment every two weeks. She was a socialite darling, seeming to know exactly what to say to all of her friends in all the right places.
I could see why Ginter had picked her. She was easy to look at.
Glancing back, I eyeballed Nial. He was taking her in.
Males and their dicks.
I walked right up to the kitchen door and made sure she couldn’t see me standing there. I watched as she twirled and twerked her way through the kitchen, making what looked like a peanut butter and jelly…and pickle sandwich. I hoped to God that I was wrong because I wasn’t in the mood to vomit.
Dancing her way back to the couch, she flopped down and started munching on small pieces of the sandwich she had made. She flipped through the channels a few times, and settled on a reality television show—women bitching about their husbands, by all appearances. Popping open a beer and taking a drink, she let out a rousing belch before giggling at her show.
This woman was going to make my eyes roll into the back of my head.
I watched her a few minutes.
Haley texted while half paying attention to the show. She would be the perfect go-between as soon as I could get her Thralled to me. My lips twitched, starting to enjoy her childish silliness with the pickles and the beers. She kept waving the small gherkin pickle and snickering madly.
It took only a small push from my power to get her under the start of Thrall. A very simple mind, more occupied with her shoes and beer. I envied the simplicity to some degree.
Stand. Come open the door for me.
Without hesitation, she put the plate, the phone, and the remote on the table and headed to the back door. Flicking the lock open, she pulled it open fluidly and seemed to smile at me.
“Good girl,” I praised. “Are you ready to play my game?”
“Of course. I like games.”
I leered. “Excellent. This game is lots of fun. First, we need to have snack time, and then I’m going to explain to you exactly what we’re going to do.”
I stepped close to her curvy body and wrapped my right hand around the nape of her neck. With a sharp glance into her eyes, calling my power to the front and capturing her gaze with the burning of Thra
ll, she collapsed in my arms limp as a rope.
I sat her down on a white and black checkered kitchen chair.
With a gentle touch, I tipped her head back, letting my fangs drop.
As I pierced the skin above her vein, I saw Nial in the tree watching me, his attention focused on my teeth. I sank my fangs deeper into her soft flesh, sealing my lips around the openings, evaluating him. He wasn’t looking at her. His heady gaze was all for me.
After the first mouthful of her hot, sweet blood, I didn’t care if he was watching. I didn’t care if he whipped out his dick and started jerking it. Mouthful after mouthful of fresh, clean, live blood slipped down my throat and warmed my entire being, down my chest and flowing out to my tense limbs. It was magnificent, feeding on a human that hadn’t been captive, unwilling, or used a thousand times by other vampires. Her soft, honeyed taste spread through every part of my body, revitalizing me, reconnecting me to the world around me.
The soft little thing’s memories slipped through.
Fun, silly sex she and Ginter often had, the garden parties she loved, the car she drove too fast, almost with reckless abandon. The friends she had, the courses in college, the charities she helped, high school, losing her virginity, her first kiss, her grammar school sweetheart.
I pulled back, allowing the flow to slow and close down.
If I went further, I would kill her, and that was not the plan. The plan was Thrall and control for the next day or so. There was nothing offensive about this girl. She was perfect for my plan. With a lick of my tongue over each puncture wound, the magic in my saliva sealed her skin.
I took a moment to lick the last of her blood from my teeth.
Exquisite. Innocence always tasted so scandalously delightful.
I lifted my own wrist and slashed a vein there. Holding it against her lips, I let a few drops slip down, onto her tongue and down her throat. Just a bit, just enough to hold the Thrall lightly and know all that she heard and saw. I could influence her actions and questions. There were ways she could get Ginter to talk and react that no one else could.
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