Veiled (Veiled Book 1)

by Stacey Rourke

  “Quite the opposite, my dear.” Rau’s grin brightened with genuine amusement. “In fact, if you look up to the second floor, you will see she worked out a special surprise for you.”

  With the bitter bile of a complete loss of control rising in the back of my throat, I shifted my gaze upward. Micah loomed at the top of the stairs draped in a stunning sapphire gown and malevolent smirk.

  “Hello, Mummy,” she purred.

  Carter tensed beside me, glance shooting in the direction where Rutherford had made his exit. “Suddenly, it feels like we chased out The Reaper and invited in Death.”

  Following the flow of traffic led us through the lush green menagerie of Rau’s private conservatory, to a sprawling ballroom lined with marble pillars. Draperies in deep jewel tones separated the imposing space into smaller compartments occupied by various displays.

  Keeping our smiles plastered in place for the milling masses, I questioned Micah through clenched teeth, “What the hell are you doing here? I thought we agreed you weren’t ready for social outings.”

  Flipping her braids over her shoulder, Mics batted her mile-long lashes at a passing reporter. Poor fella tripped over his own feet in attempts to hold her stare just a moment longer. “You said I wasn’t ready. I ignored you and called an Uber.”

  Catching her wrist, I spun her to face me, taking a quick scan of the crowd to make sure no prying ears were listening before I spat, “Do you remember how long you made me wait and all the training we did before you let me matriculate in any way? I remember numerous warnings about how dire the consequences would be if I risked venturing out before I was completely prepared.”

  Eyes wide and innocent, a malicious sneer twisted the corners of her bronze-painted lips. “And how did that first excursion go?”

  Guilt tugged my gaze Carter’s way.

  “I thought you lined up a sitter for her,” he offered, jerking his head in Micah’s direction. “You know, to give mom and dad a night off from the kiddo?”

  Ignoring his quip, I tried to swallow down the blame haunting me. “You know what happened, Micah, and that’s exactly what has me worried.”

  “But that’s the difference between you and me. You were a scrawny, inexperienced pup trying to figure out the hierarchy of an established pack. And me? Baby, I’m already an alpha dog.”

  While the response was still forming on my tongue, she sashayed off to join the party with her thick ass twitching, much to the delight of every red-blooded man she passed.

  “She’s going to get us all killed, isn’t she?” Carter mused, scratching his chin with the side of his knuckle.

  “That does seem to be her goal,” I griped. “Best we can do is keep an eye on her and tether her if she starts getting feisty.”

  “In that case, I’m going to need another one of these.” As yet another waiter breezed past, Carter swapped his empty glass for a full one.

  “Sip and walk. I’m not losing sight of her.”

  Riding Micah’s wake, we wandered through the displays of vampire life and lore. Thomas played presenter for the first, showcasing the latest in Nosferatu sleep pods.

  “The VampNap allows us to rest and escape the sun’s harmful rays wherever we may be.” Pressing a button on the side of the sleep unit, Thomas opened its sliding canopy door. “With internal LED lighting, a memory foam mattress and a television streaming the latest Hollywood hits, you can see we’ve upgraded beyond sleeping in coffins.”

  “All right now, I gotta give this a try.” A good ole boy with an expensive suit and happy-go-lucky smile ambled into the exhibit, hoisting his frame into the cocoon of the pod. Wriggling into the mattress, he grinned at the chuckling audience. “I need one of these for my office. Hell, maybe even for home. Bless her heart, my wife Barbara snores like a grizzly bear.”

  Lurching forward, the invited paparazzi set the moment ablaze with flash bulbs.

  “Attorney General Berry, look over here!”

  “Can we get a smile, Bob?”

  “Will the NPI Bill get a Bob Berry endorsement?”

  “Easy now.” Closing his eyes, Berry pretended to be asleep. “I was looking for a nap, not to make a political statement.”

  Sauntering on, we let the lilt of laughter fade behind us. Elodie’s demonstration was next on the tour. Draped in a heavy wool cloak, she stood before a stone basin filled with smoldering cinders. “These are ever burning embers, just as Vlad is everlasting. Lit from a torch at Castle Draculesti, where our lord lays, they are transported by our clergy and act as a reminder that one day he will rise again and walk amongst the worthy.” Holding up a stone no larger than a sand dollar, she showed it to the onlookers. “With stones such as these we brand our forearms with the Draculesti crest, to bear his mark as true believers.”

  A middle-aged brunette with a loose bun and cat-framed glasses raised her hand. “With your ability to heal, the mark will vanish almost instantly, won’t it? What, then, is the point?”

  “It does heal and is then reapplied at our next sacred gathering,” Elodie confirmed with appreciative nod at the question. “Consider it as you would communion for Christians. It is done often to reaffirm our faith.”

  Hitching one eyebrow, I quietly contested, “But instead of turning water into wine, our god opens a vein.”

  “Wine? And here I thought your drink of choice was an Old Fashion neat.” I recognized the husky voice behind me instantly. Primarily because it awoke a deep loathing within me that yearned for violence and mayhem.

  Linking my fingers with Carter’s, in hopes of borrowing an iota of his serenity, I steeled my spine and turned to face the devil incarnate. “Carter, may I introduce my ex, Finn Danior, who slaughtered my family and left me for dead. Finn, this is my human companion, Carter … who will be holding me back if I spontaneously lunge for your throat. Carter—Finn, Finn—Carter.”

  “Is … is this the f-first time you’ve seen him since they d-died?” Carter stammered, eyes bulging in horror.

  “We crossed paths once before,” I admitted, scanning the room to locate Micah chatting up Judge Dean, “and reached the understanding that at some point, when I see fit, I’m going to kill him.”

  Carter’s stare lobbed from Finn, to me, and back again. “Good thing you two have that understanding or this little interaction would be insanely awkward.”

  Silence.

  “Yep, not uncomfortable at all.” Carter drained his glass in one gulp and held it up before him. “Hey, look! My drink is empty and there’s a bar in the corner. I’m going for a refill. Anyone want anything?”

  Grinding my teeth, I begrudgingly granted Finn his momentary victory. “Old Fashion neat. But only because it sounds good, not because he suggested it.”

  “Atta girl.” Carter tried unsuccessfully to fight off a grin. “If you can’t be right, be petty.”

  The second Carter was out of ear shot, Finn took a brazen step closer. Raven locks falling across his forehead in an inviting disarray, he peered up at me from under his brow. “That dress designer should send you a formal thank you for how his work wears you. You have never looked better, Vincenza. If I haven’t said it before, immortality suits you.”

  For a beat, I let myself drink him in. That chiseled jawline. The sculpted physique built with naughty promise in mind. Full, soft lips whose talents I could still taste.

  Was I tempted?

  Fuck no.

  He killed my family!

  That wasn’t really an issue I was willing to work through.

  “What about when my blood was pooling around me and I was begging for mercy? How did that look on me? Did you find it fetching?” I countered. Crossing my arms over my chest, I slaughtered him at least six different ways with my glare.

  “We’ve talked about my lack of recollections of that night.” Stare leisurely traveling the length of me, Finn dragged his tongue over his gums where the bulge of his fangs swelled. “Even so, that wasn’t you. Not anymore. You’ve left the human fo
il. If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that our kind doesn’t meld well with humans. Let our own tragic tale be proof of that.”

  My mouth opened with a sharp and cutting rebuttal, only to snap shut again.

  When we engage the twat-weasel, we give it the attention it feeds off of.

  “What do you want, Finn?” I asked, running my forefinger over the rim of my champagne flute. “I have a baby-vamp to watch and no time for your shit.”

  “What do I want?” Finn contemplated, sucking air through his teeth. “To see the fresh heaven that lies beneath that gown, followed by a weekend of debauchery. But … I’ll settle for a warning—among friends.”

  “Friends?” My eyebrows rocketed into my hairline. “How did you not choke on that word?”

  Pursing his full, pouty lips, he feigned insult. “Come on, Vinx, we shared a near death experience. Surely, that earned me a bit of trust?”

  “It earned you a bit of conversation,” I corrected. Finding Micah on the move, I craned my neck to keep her in my eyeline. “Of which your time is running out.”

  “Even if it’s about your boy, Carter?” Biting his lower lip, Finn’s slate-colored gaze twinkled with wicked delight. “I’ve met him before. Not that he was in the state of mind to remember.”

  That was enough to draw my stare from my wandering progeny. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Whatever draws humans and vampires together at first, in the end it all comes down to blood. A suck here, a nip there, and you either end up with a dead body … case in point,” he jabbed a hand in my direction, “or a human hooked on the rush of vampire blood. Whenever the vampire coalition feels anyone is becoming victim to their own demise, they offer them discreet treatment options. One of which your friend, Mr. Westerly, could tell you all about.”

  Scanning the room, I found Carter stopped in front of a display of vampire-themed artwork, where Rau most-likely was explaining the meaning behind it. Catching my eye, Carter offered me a boyish grin.

  “I don’t believe you. The coalition was holding him against his will. They planned to sell him to the highest bidder with the biggest appetite.”

  “Is that what he told you?” Plucking a drink from a passing tray, Finn polished it off in one gulp. “That after being hired to promote the NPI Bill, they imprisoned him and plotted his execution? And, since you whisked him out of there, that makes you, what? His hero?”

  Come to think of it, Carter had never made any such claim. In fact, he never talked about his time among the Nosferatu at all. “Actually, yes,” I lied.

  Stepping in close enough for me to smell the faint tinge of blood on his breath, Finn dropped his voice to an intimate whisper. “I hate to shatter the knight with fangs for armor image you’ve constructed for yourself, but your friend was in rehab. He hooked up with a vampress by the name of Coraline and developed a greedy little addiction. I do hope his appetite hasn’t flared since the two of you have been together.”

  “He’s only drank from me once,” I mumbled, struggling to swallow around the fist of unease squeezing my throat in a merciless vise grip. “I … forced him.”

  “I’m sure that’s exactly what he led you to believe.” Finn chuckled, the cold chill of his touch jolting through me as he brushed his fingertips down the length of my arm. “I’m sure it’s pure coincidence that his last two girlfriends were vampires, and not at all a twisted fetish.”

  Bobbing through the crowd, Carter drank me in, concern clouding his features.

  “Oh! There is one more thing,” Finn added, almost as if it were an afterthought. “His addiction? Coraline? Her skin was the hue of polished mahogany. Her hair as untamable as her spirit.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” I growled through gritted teeth.

  “Because, Vinx, you met her. She was the same vampress who fed on you with me the night you were turned.” Letting his words fall like stones in the chilling pool of his absence, Finn disappeared into the crowd.

  “Everything okay?” Carter asked, gliding up beside me to hand me my Old Fashion.

  Eagerly accepting it, I brought the amber liquid to my lips, prolonging answering him until I got to the bottom of the glass. A scent in the air rerouted my agenda, its magnetic lure igniting my veins with fiery longing. Dropping my drink to my side, I took a tentative whiff. Then another. The metallic tang of life filled the air, awakening my urgent ache to drop fang.

  “I smell blood,” I mumbled quietly to avoid causing a riot.

  The mood in the room shifted. Every vamp fell silent. Spines straightening, their nostrils twitched at the perfume of temptation. The milling humans were oblivious … so far. One flash of fang would change all that.

  Even Rau, in the midst of a speech about the symbolism of a painting depicting a green demon seated in a garden, froze stone still. He only blinked back to an animated state when Thomas jogged up to whisper an urgent bulletin in his ear.

  His nod of understanding countered by a troubled frown, Rau brought his microphone back to his lips. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are having a bit of a security issue. At this time, we will be concluding our activities and closing the doors to Lockwood-Mathews. We thank you for coming and hope you can visit us again very soon.”

  The triplets took their cue from that, ushering the humans out with comforting smiles and vague excuses.

  Finding himself caught in the shuffle, Carter stumbled to stay with me in the crush of pushing him toward the exit. “Vinx?”

  Visions flashed behind my eyes of him suckling from the bosom of the vamp I nicknamed the Black Mamba. “Go home. I’ll meet you there.”

  Reluctantly, with dejection slicing lines between his brow, he gave in and let the surge drag him out. The moment the last beating heart—that they were aware of—had been escorted from the premises, Finn sealed the ballroom doors with a vacuum of finality.

  Crossing the room in shadow form, Rau shoved aside the curtain behind the VampNap display. The previously muffled stench of death flooded the room, forcing a toothy reaction from all of us sharing the tainted space.

  She sat hunkered against the wall. A black masquerade mask hooded eyes that stared fixed and unblinking into the hereafter. I recognized the red pants suit she wore in an instant. Its spiffy black trim had been ripped and splattered with gore. The discarded pile of meat before us had been the reporter questioning people outside only moments ago.

  “Should we lock down the manor, my lord?” Thomas’ chest swelled with purpose, his hands clasped behind his back. “And summon the police?”

  Squatting down to check the woman’s pulse, Rau chewed on the question. His hands fell between his knees, and he shook his head.

  “It won’t bring her back,” he grumbled, hating the words tumbling from his tongue. “A murder on known vampire grounds would reaffirm the bigoted views of our opponents. That would be the death of the NPI Bill before it even made it to the vote. No, this was done for a reason. Someone was looking to send a message specifically for me.”

  “My lord?” Duncan edged up behind him, confusion creasing his face. “How do you know this to be intentional?”

  Gently and respectfully, Rau slid off the accessory garnishing the face of the dearly departed. Cradling the black mask with vining gold trim in his palms, his top lip quivered into a vicious snarl. “This is the same style of adornment Joselyn wore when her body was fished from the river. Whoever did this, had insight into the death of my beloved and is choosing to taunt me with it.”

  Feeling the current of wrath from a centuries’ old beast cracking and rallying around me, I did a mental head count of the vampires present and accounted for. Rau crouched by the victim. Duncan and Thomas hovered behind him, awaiting further command. Elodie shrugged off her cloak, letting it fall in a heap at her feet. Finn hovered by the door, undoubtedly hoping for a chance to slip out undetected. A few others I had yet to meet drifted nearby, seemingly as lost and bewildered as I was.

  Dread prickled ove
r my chilled skin when I realized one particular vamp was notably missing.

  Micah was nowhere to be seen.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Experiment Day 231: Cause

  Experiment – A procedure carried out to support, refute, or validate a hypothesis.

  Seated in the back of the Lincoln Town Car, I smoothed down the front of the ash-colored pant suit Micah coerced me into wearing. After months spent in breathable workout gear, the ensemble felt like it was trying to smother my crotch with the miserable fabrics of the mundane.

  “After the Vesbon debacle, you said I wasn’t ready to interact with other vampires yet,” I pointed out for what felt like the millionth time, shoving a rogue strand of hair behind my ear. “You were quite adamant about it. I believe the phrase will-power of a nympho at a nudist colony was used.”

  “Oh, hell no, I won’t be subjecting either of us to that again any time soon,” Micah agreed, checking her file with the house address one last time. “If they didn’t eat your eyeballs for sport, you would find some way to sneak in a weapon and take out as many of them as you could before they swarmed. That said, is your silver nail file on your person?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Is there any chance I can convince you to leave it in the car?”

  “No, there is not.”

  Filling her lungs with an exasperated breath, Mics exhaled through her nose, causing the delicate hoop of her nostril piercing to shimmy. “Try not to kill anyone with it.”

  “I will do my best.” Head lolling in the direction of the white two-story boasting the American dream right outside our car window, I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “What makes you think I’m ready for this?”

  “Basic conversation with a human being?” Pausing, Micah deliberated on the matter. “Absolutely nothing. But at least it is less likely to have fatal consequences.”