Blood in the Water (Blood Vice Book 3)

by Angela Roquet

  “No.” He slurped at a cup of punch and swallowed. “Mandy and I were with Sergeant Carmichael the whole time. She took us to a piano bar. It was nice.”

  Mandy nodded against my shoulder and finally sat upright, rubbing her cheek with a sniffle. Her fatigue pants whispered against my own. The base harem donors had dressed up—or at least, Natalie, Sampson, and Cara had. Ned shrugged when he caught me staring at him.

  “My shift up top begins in an hour,” he said apologetically. “You wanna do me next before I have to head out?” Such a sweet talker, that one.

  I stood and walked to him, testing out the steadiness of my legs. I was feeling much better, recovering remarkably fast. I guessed having the blood of three donors doing its magic at the same time would do that. Two more bites, and maybe I’d be able to shrug the hollow feeling eating at my core.

  My thoughts turned to Roman, and my constant ache for him—not just for his blood, but to have him near. Even brooding, his presence comforted and enlivened me. I wanted it now more than ever. There wasn’t enough blood to satisfy that longing.

  Ned’s heavy breath reminded me of where I was and the company I was in. I glanced up from his wrist, my fingers freezing mid-caress down the length of his arm. Everyone was staring, though, after my cheeks warmed, they quickly made a point to mind their own business.

  Cara took Ned’s place a moment later. “We bought you something,” she said with a mischievous smile and a cueing glance behind me.

  “Spoiler alert,” Natalie chimed. She huffed with mock disappointment and waved her arm dramatically as she closed her bedroom door, revealing a deep red evening gown hanging on the backside.

  Red lace folded to resemble flowers created the thin sleeves of the dress, and a thick band of material marked the empire cut waist just under the bust. The pleated skirt was simple, the heavy fold of the material widening the hem enough to give it an elegant fullness.

  I fingered the dress and frowned.

  “Do you like it?” Natalie asked.

  “What’s it for?”

  “The queen’s All Hallows’ Eve ball.” She threw her hands up. “The one day cadets look forward to even more than graduation?”

  “Right.” I grimaced, remembering some detail or another from Roman’s notes about getting to attend one of the queen’s annual parties and being officially anointed by her. “And this event is coming up soon?”

  “In three nights,” Natalie answered. “So you should probably try it on now, in case Cara needs to do any hemming.”

  “Right now?” My shoulders slumped forward.

  “Collins and I get to go, too,” Mandy said. “But we don’t get to meet the queen. That’s only for vamps.”

  “And our attire was picked out of a catalog by the sergeants so we’d all match,” Collins added, a hint of revulsion in his voice. “I’d have packed a tux if I’d known.” He gave me an accusing look as if I’d intentionally let him come unprepared.

  I’d overlooked the frivolous details in Roman’s notes—not that he’d included many of those—and focused on the more pressing material. So sue me.

  I stayed in Natalie’s room all evening, as Sergeant Sorano had said I could, even after the others left, including Mandy and Collins. They stayed the longest, watching Cara fuss over my new dress as she tucked and pinned everywhere she deemed needed to be taken in or hemmed. I thought it looked just fine as is, but she insisted it needed to be perfect. She also showed me the diamond earrings and pendant necklace she had picked out to go with it.

  I didn’t know how I should feel about the party. Everyone else seemed excited, but the queen was technically my great great grandsire. There was lots of potential for awkwardness. I imagined the duke would be there, too, being royalty and all. Probably the whole cast of House Lilith, less the slain and exiled members.

  Even more so than meeting the queen, I was nervous about crossing paths with Ursula, the mother of evil in my book. I didn’t know who else to expect, seeing as how I was a vampling on the outside of this fancy society, looking in. I wondered if Sonja’s or Mic’s sires would make an appearance. What would I say to either of them if our paths crossed?

  At oh seven hundred, on the dot, I met up with the other cadets in the crypt. They seemed surprised to see me, especially Blair, but she kept her mouth shut as Sorano entered the room. She gave us each an appraising look before addressing us.

  “I hope you’ve fed well,” she said, folding her hands behind her back. “Training resumes tomorrow. We’ll be measuring your rate of recovery over the next two nights. You’ll get another break on Saturday to attend Her Majesty’s All Hallows’ Eve ball. Enjoy yourselves. It will be the last night off you’ll have until graduation.”

  She left the room without addressing Mic’s or Sonja’s cleared out bunks. None of the other cadets mentioned their absence either, though, Blair spent the moments before sunrise staring at his empty bed. I had the feeling she couldn’t believe he was responsible either. But I didn’t need to be told that one did not simply contradict the duke’s judgement.

  When it came to vampires, that brand of common sense was not a luxury. It was survival.

  Chapter Seventeen

  While all vampires in the United States were technically under the rule of House Lilith, the vampires pledged to Blood Vice were held to a higher standard, entrusted with upholding vampiric law and order. So they were privileged with a royal address before taking their final oath after training. For the fall session, that meant receiving an invitation to the All Hallows’ Eve ball hosted at the queen’s estate in Evergreen, about an hour’s drive from the bat cave.

  Roman’s notes had outlined the few holidays vampires celebrated. Halloween seemed a little cliché, but it was sacred to the fanged community, serving as a mass memorial to their dead whose ashes were kept in the royal tomb under the manor—alongside anyone unfortunate enough to be serving a coffin-lock sentence.

  In addition to All Hallows’ Eve, there was Midwinter’s Eve and Midsummer’s Eve, the longest and shortest nights of the year. And then Imbolc Eve, on the first of February, when new scions were celebrated—and sometimes created for the symbolic nature of the holiday that I was still a bit fuzzy on.

  The queen hosted celebrations for all four holidays, though, the invitations were usually reserved for the noble families. Only vampires were permitted to attend the solstice celebrations, but the other two holidays were more inclusive, as apparent by the presence of me and mine, come Saturday night.

  “I feel like a poodle in a tutu,” Mandy grumbled. She yanked at the top of her prom-style ball gown, readjusting her breasts in plain sight.

  “Keep it classy.” I clicked my tongue at her.

  The BATC party had arrived early, delivered via limo to the front steps of the queen’s manor. We were the lowly newcomers tonight, expected to fawn over the important guests who were fashionably late. I was more interested in the venue. The castle-inspired architecture was overwhelming, with decorative stonework and arched windows lit by gothic torches lining the walkways and wide patios. The inside of the place was like a museum. I wondered if the queen actually lived here, or if this was just for social gatherings.

  Collins adjusted his tie as we paused at an archway leading into the ballroom. “I’m going to find where they’re hiding the refreshments,” he said, nudging my shoulder.

  Mandy gasped at the suggestion and clapped her hands together. “Be still, my heart.”

  The pair of them hurried off, abandoning me in the growing crowd of strangers. There was no one here I recognized other than the cadets from the bat cave, and we didn’t exactly have a secret handshake. A fancy party wasn’t going to change that. After the coffin-lock trial, they’d resumed their loathing avoidance of me. Except for Blair, who had upped her tormenting now that Mic wasn’t around to offer up a distraction.

  I sighed and leaned against a column near the dancefloor, watching the others make small talk or bow to the fancier vamps a
s they ventured through the marble foyer at the front of the manor. Other than formal, there didn’t seem to be a specific dress code. It looked very much like a costume party with the wide range of historic and modern attire. My best guess was that everyone wore clothing from the era of their first rising. I wondered what my dress revealed about me. Then I decided that I didn’t care.

  I was ready for the night to be over. I pushed away from the column, eager to find a quiet corner to retreat to, until an icy blue gaze settled on me.

  My breath caught at the sight of him—the confident square of his shoulders, the classic tuxedo, the slicked back white hair. He was a sharper version of the man I’d first met, an air of calm perfection about him that even the fanged guests paused to take notice of.

  Roman seemed oblivious to the whispers. His face remained perfectly blank as he stalked across the room. I half expected him to breeze past me without a second glance. When he stopped a few feet away and held out his hand, my heart stopped.

  “Dance with me.”

  It wasn’t some coquettish request. Just a command. But I accepted, automatically slipping my hand in his. As soon as he’d pulled me a safe distance away from the others, I came to my senses.

  “I can’t dance,” I whispered over his shoulder.

  “They’ll begin with a slow waltz. Just follow my lead. Can you do that?” His flat expression hadn’t change, but I heard the quip for what it was.

  “Doubtful.” I put my free hand on his shoulder. It felt good being this close to him after so long, though I could have done without the return of his callous façade.

  Roman gripped my waist and froze, his chin tilted up and away from me. He stood statue-still as the musicians took up their seats and instruments on the lower tier before the stage. A cello played a low, solemn note, followed by a quivering bellow from an accordion. More couples took to the dance floor, taking position and waiting as Roman and I were. Then the music began in earnest, setting everyone into motion.

  I fumbled a step after Roman, blushing when Blair’s scornful laughter reached me. Roman pulled me around, giving her my back as we stepped deeper into the swaying crowd.

  “You encourage her with your attention,” he said through his teeth.

  “I can’t help it.”

  “Try.” His eyes dipped for a brief second, flashing sincerely before his cool gaze returned. He stared off into the distance behind me. I tried to do the same, but it wasn’t easy. His skin was warm beneath mine, and when his other hand squeezed my waist to direct me into an underarm turn, I gasped softly. If Roman noticed, he didn’t let on.

  “They are like sharks,” he continued. “They only require a drop of blood to rouse, and you give it to them so easily. They need to be reminded that you are one of them.”

  “But you said not to make friends.” I frowned and returned my hand to his shoulder.

  “And I meant it.” His familiar frustration made my heart cower. “They need to know that you’re not prey.”

  Was that why he’d learned to be so guarded? Had the ignore-them-and-they’ll-go-away tactic worked so well for him? Or was a half-sired considered harmless by most vampires?

  The nervous discomfort he’d shown around me suddenly felt more meaningful. Was I not threatening enough to warrant the smokescreen treatment anymore? Or was I really so burdensome that he couldn’t maintain it in my presence for long?

  Roman’s breath rushed across my cheek and tickled my ear. “They’re distracted. Now’s our chance.”

  Before I could ask what we needed a chance for, his hand tightened on mine, and he pivoted us right off the dance floor. We dipped into an arched hallway off the ballroom. His fingers stayed laced in mine as he tugged me past several closed doors and an alcove holding a milky bust of a slack-jawed vampire. The model’s extended fangs were made of ruby rather than marble like the rest of her. I wanted to pause and appreciate the beauty of it, but Roman’s urgency pulled my attention ahead again.

  We reached a bend in the hallway and turned, taking us fully out of public view. Roman pushed open a door and ushered me inside the dark room. I wanted to ask if he knew where we were. Wasn’t this area off-limits? Wandering aimlessly through a host’s home was rude—and if my meager knowledge of vampire etiquette had taught me anything, it was that offending fancy vamps came with a hefty price tag.

  “What are we doing?” I whispered as my eyes adjusted to the softer lighting, making out the ornately framed paintings decorating the walls.

  “I don’t know.” Roman’s conflicted voice stabbed at my heart.

  I turned to him, finding his icy blue gaze focused on me. “Why are we in here?”

  “I’m afraid to die,” he confessed. His hand squeezed mine and he placed it against his chest, right above his bleating heart.

  Hadn’t he given me the cold shoulder for saving his life? I didn’t know what to say to him, and I didn’t know where all of this was coming from.

  “Roman—”

  “I’m afraid to die,” he said again, slipping his free hand behind my ear to comb his fingers through my hair. “Because I don’t want it to change the way I feel about you.”

  My breath rushed out in a heatwave. “And…how do you feel about me?”

  Roman barely let me finish before he answered by pressing his mouth to mine. His hand gripped the back of my head, pulling me in closer to him. A moan welled in my throat as his other hand found the small of my back.

  For a bittersweet moment, I enjoyed the feel of him against me. How my heart jolted and fluttered. The way my body responded to his as if this were nature’s grand plan finally falling together. But that’s all this was. Nature. Pheromones and hormones we had both surrendered to like primitive creatures.

  When we finally tore away from each other, limbs shaky and breaths laboring, I asked the obvious question. “This is because we shared lifeblood, isn’t it?”

  “Twice,” Roman said.

  “I knew it was too good to be true. I mean, obviously. You can’t stand me, especially after I—”

  “Jenna.” A tendon in his neck strained as he looked away from me, but then his mouth found mine again, and I couldn’t find the will to resist. Biology be damned. We were falling down a steep cliff, our tether snapped and dangling far above. There was no clawing our way out of this.

  I raked both hands through his hair and then locked my arms behind his neck, mewling like a cat in heat. Roman made his own noises, deep in his throat. He backed me into the wall and ran his fingers down my ribcage, his hips digging in above mine as our breaths grew more ragged.

  When he pulled away, I struggled against him, a desperate need filling me. The tips of my fangs were slowly extending, though I tried to suck them back in as I pleaded with Roman.

  “I don’t care,” I whispered, my lips trailing the side of his throat. “I don’t care how or why we feel this way. I want you.”

  He tucked his chin over my head and crushed me to his chest, shushing my begging. “Listen,” he said. The muffled music that had followed us from the ballroom shifted, and a regal fanfare of strings sounded. “The royal family is arriving. We have to go.”

  I swallowed and blinked back disappointed tears while Roman straightened his jacket and smoothed his hair back in place the best he could. He gave me a tender, sad smile and touched my face, rubbing a thumb under my bottom lip.

  “Your lipstick.” He gasped softly. “I’m afraid…”

  “That you’re wearing most of it?” I finished with a clipped, humorless laugh. Roman flushed and reached for his own mouth, but I beat him to it, fingering away the smears of red splotches I’d left on him. “What are we going to do?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer.

  Roman cupped his hands around mine, pulling them away from his face so he could kiss my knuckles. His worried eyes searched mine. “We’re going to get through tonight. Then you’re going to get through the rest of your training.”

  “And after?” I whispered,
leaning in as if to kiss him. Roman began to lean forward to meet me, and then stopped, blinking stiffly.

  “We’ll figure that out once you come home,” he said, squeezing my hands until my gaze lifted from his swollen lips to meet his eyes. “We can’t afford to be sloppy tonight. There are too many eyes eagerly awaiting a glimpse of the orphaned vampling the duke has shown favor to.”

  He brushed a curl off my shoulder and smoothed my hair down my back, a despairing attempt to erase the evidence of our tryst. I frowned at him, wondering if he’d prefer to erase the memory of it, too. This was a disaster. I thought of Vanessa, and a fresh wave of guilt and bitter envy washed over me, souring my stomach.

  “Ready?” Roman asked, holding his arm out to me like a proper gentleman.

  I didn’t want proper. I wanted him to take me right here in the dark gallery, with all the brooding paintings watching us. But I relented and took his arm, steeling my face for the masses as he had done.

  We left the gallery with no one the wiser. But as we made it back to the ballroom, his confession boiled to the surface of my mind, no longer muted by the pulse of our desire.

  He was afraid to die because he was afraid it would change the way he felt about me. He knew. I wondered for how long. Had he known what he was doing when he’d fed me his blood last summer?

  Roman let go of my arm as we rounded the corner and emerged in the ballroom, though he stayed close to my side. Several pairs of keen eyes took note of us, but no one introduced themselves. We were far beneath any station warranting special attention. Roman seemed more bothered by the slight than I was.

  “His Grace, the Duke of House Lilith,” announced a doorman in colonial garb, complete with a powdered wig and buckle-topped shoes.

  Dante entered through the foyer. I hardly recognized him in his blue, Civil War era coat. The garment hung to his knees, with two rows of shiny gold buttons spanning down the length of his chest. More buttons shown at his cuffs, and gold embellishments decorated his shoulders. A felt Hardee hat rested on his head, with a bright red feather tucked in the band.