by Irina Argo
And then she felt him throw up a portal and he was gone, his fork clattering to the plate.
Chapter 32
State Sucre, Venezuela
Two hours earlier
Simone lazily rolled over and watched Odji sleeping beside her, his body warming her beneath the soft down comforter. Lately, she’d been asking him to stay with her after they’d had sex. Odji was like a big teddy bear, something to hold on to, to help fill the void that was growing in Simone’s heart like a metastasizing cancer, threatening eventually to swallow her. She’d been living in a daze, just taking life one day at a time. The nights were the worst. So Odji had practically moved in with her.
Odji slept as peacefully as a child, his hands beneath his cheek, palms together as though he was praying, with a whisper of a smile on his soft lips. He looked so sweet like that, the softness a striking contrast to his strikingly masculine features and salt-and-pepper hair. She brushed his cheek lightly with her fingertips.
Odji, like Simone, was among the pride’s younger generation even though he was several centuries older. Simone knew his story well. The King had found him in Finland in the seventeenth century. Odji didn’t know who his parents were or how he ended up in Finland; all he could remember was that he’d been a homeless beggar all his life. Once, during a particularly severe winter when Odji was seven or eight, food had been so scarce that Odji had resorted to eating tree bark and scavenging from carcasses of dead animals. By the time Tor found him, he was starving to death, no more than skin and bones, and his hands and feet were frostbitten.
Tor had an uncanny ability to identify immortal youngsters—to virtually everyone else, they were indistinguishable from human children—and he immediately recognized Odji as an immortal.
Tor also had a soft spot for distressed and orphaned children. The King picked up the dying boy and tucked him beneath his rich fur coat, warming him against his chest. Odji still remembered the heat of love emanating from Tor and the sense of belonging he immediately felt in the arms of this powerful and strong male. He hugged Tor around his neck and prayed: please, God, let him be my father. Please, help me.
Odji didn’t know which god heard him, but a miracle happened: he found a father. In the blink of an eye, Odji was transformed from pitiful orphan to son of the Vampire King. For many years after, Odji couldn’t believe his good fortune. He would wake up in the middle of the night covered with cold sweat, afraid that Tor and his pride were just a dream.
When Odji came of age, he chose to become the King’s personal bodyguard, standing behind him during endless meetings and negotiations—and thwarting many assassination attempts. He’d taken countless blows and suffered serious injuries defending Tor; each only seemed to intensify his devotion to the King.
Simone suspected that Odji viewed sex with her as another aspect of his service to the King. She usually didn’t let that bother her, though; in fact, she was just fine with it, because his lovemaking was focused solely on her gratification, and he was an incredible lover, attentive to every nuance of her responses, taking her to heights she hadn’t thought possible.
But lately their sex had felt mechanical, passionless, just a means to an end. They still maintained a warm friendship, but it wasn’t enough for Simone. She’d always wanted to experience real love, but her longing for it had been getting more pervasive, more urgent, until it had become like a physical ache inside her that wouldn’t go away.
She kept fantasizing about Antar, imagining that he was about to fly in through the window to her bedroom, coming for her to take her back to live with him. It had gotten to the point where she left her window open just in case.
She was desperately fighting to make her dream of a future with Antar come true. She called him every day; the Legacy had been searching for Arianna, which gave her a good excuse. But really, what she wanted was to hear Antar’s voice.
But Antar had been avoiding her. It wasn’t fair. She knew he was attracted to her. Why did he run so hot and cold? Were the Elite truly cursed by the Goddess of Love? Frustrated, she let her head flop back on the pillow—and woke up Odji. He smiled and stretched languidly.
“What’s up, gorgeous?” he asked as he cradled her in his arms. “Does my princess want more?”
“No.” She pulled out of his hold so she could see his face. “I want to ask you something, Odji.”
“Hmm?”
“Have you ever really loved someone?”
“Loved someone?” He looked surprised by her question. “Sure. I love the King.”
“No, I mean really loved a female.”
“I love you.”
“No, Odji, I mean really loved someone so much that your heart feels like it’s on fire, overflowing with passion. Loved someone so much that it feels the world would cease to exist if she left you? Have you ever loved someone that much?”
Odji’s expression grew troubled and his eyes glazed as though his mind had taken him somewhere else—or to someone else.
“Odji? Helloooo?”
“Please, Sim, just go back to sleep.”
“No, not until you answer my question.” She waited a few seconds. “Do you ever feel like something’s missing in your life? Like a void in your heart?”
Odji’s eyes were a light grey color with a hint of blue, like a lake early in the morning, and beneath their cool serenity a deep sorrow lay hidden. “Why do you ask?
“Because I feel that way. I feel hollow, like I’m empty inside. I want to know if it’s just me or if others feel it as well.”
“I do, but I’ve adjusted to it. I just learned to live with it.”
“How?”
“The way anyone adjusts to anything, I guess. It becomes part of your daily life, part of your reality.”
“Could it be ...” She was seized with a sudden self-consciousness. “Never mind.”
“No, go ahead. You can ask me.”
“Could it be that Sekhmi have all lost our souls and that’s why we always feel like something’s missing?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” Odji’s eyes glowed, and this time Simone recognized longing in them. “Like you, I’m on a quest. To be honest with you, I never stop searching. I don’t even know what I’m looking for, but I’ll know it when I find it.” He brushed his lips across her forehead. “Now, go back to sleep.” Then he snuggled back next to her and closed his eyes.
Odji was such a good friend—and a skillful lover. It would be so much easier if she could feel love for him. So why couldn’t she? Why didn’t he set her heart ablaze? She needed more.
Simone got out of bed, taking her cell phone out to the sundeck so she wouldn’t disturb Odji. She dialed Antar’s number.
He picked up on the third ring.
“Hi, Sim.” Antar’s voice washed across her, a wave of pure joy following in its wake. How could just hearing his voice make her so happy?
“Hi.” Simone tried to keep the emotion out of her voice, but her body was tightening up like a spring.
“Any news?”
“We’ve been over this; you know I’ll call the second we have any information.”
Oh, shit—this was her second call to him today.
“I’m sorry, I thought it was yesterday. I’m just so worried about her.” Simone was still telling everyone that her blood-bond connection with Arianna was blocked and she had no idea where her sister was.
“No, no news. Sorry.” Then there was only silence and Simone knew that he was impatient, wanting to get off the phone.
“I need to see you.”
The Alpha family was close by. Antar had told her in their previous phone call that they’d picked up a trace of Arianna that had led them to Venezuela.
Antar was instantly alert. “Has something happened?”
Why would he think that the only reason I’d want to see him was if something had happened?
“No, I just wanted to talk.”
It had t
aken all of her courage to ask him to come to her. If he agreed, she’d get rid of Odji and spray the room with perfume.
“What do you want to talk about?”
What kind of idiot is he? Since when does a female inviting you to visit her mean that she has to have something to talk about?
Now she was really stepping out of her comfort zone. Everyone thought she was so spoiled, but she never had the nerve to ask for attention.
“I don’t know! Just come, and—and have a drink with me in my room.”
“Simone, I’m sorry, but I need to go. I can’t talk any longer; I’m really busy.”
He was about to hang up so she shouted into the phone, “Wait!”
But it was too late; he’d already disconnected.
She was furious. How dare he treat her like that! She hated him! As Great Sekhmet was her witness, she hated him with every fiber of her being. She stared down at her cell phone for a few seconds, then hurled it against the wall.
“Well, well, my princess is angry. What brought on this little tantrum?”
She turned sharply in the direction the voice had come from. Theores was approaching her, walking along the sundeck that circled the house. Damn, what she really didn’t need right now was a witness. “Nothing!”
“Well, get ready; I’m taking you someplace that will take your mind off your problems. Put on something white and let’s take Odji with us as a bodyguard.”
Chapter 33
Hunter headquarters, Venezuela
Simone kept asking Theores what the big surprise was, but Theores wasn’t answering any questions. Her curiosity only grew when, an hour later, they landed at the familiar helipad at the Hunters’ estate. They clearly weren’t the only guests, judging from the other helicopters there and several cars lined up in the open parking area at the end of the driveway. And it looked like they weren’t the only ones wearing white. Even the Hunter who greeted them was dressed all in white, and Simone didn’t think she’d ever seen a Hunter wearing anything but black. It was like a uniform for them.
Weird. Sekhmi reserved white almost exclusively for mating ceremonies and religious rituals. She was pretty sure it wasn’t a wedding, but it could be almost anything else; the Hunters were famous for organizing rituals the way some people were famous for hosting parties.
The Hunter escorted them into the main building and down the stairs, where he hesitated in front of a heavy metal door and turned to Theores. “Are you sure, madam, that you want this young lady to be present?”
Irritation flared in Theores’s eyes. “I told you already, Solus, I want the princess to participate in the ritual. We feel she is ready to witness it.”
“What ritual?” Seriously, someone please tell me what’s going on.
“Be patient, dear,” answered Theores as they entered a vast underground chamber. It was the Hunter pride’s temple of Sekhmet. Every pride in the Vampire Elite constructed these temples beneath their estates as a sacred space to worship their Goddess. It was Sekhmis’ belief that the temples brought luck; Sekhmet would bestow her blessings on those most devoted to her.
The walls were rough and glistened with beads of moisture that reflected the flames of torches scattered throughout the room. Dominating the chamber, a black marble, highly polished sculpture of Sekhmet rose twenty feet above its six-by-six marble platform base. Several feet from the sculpture, an elaborate throne had been carved into the rock face itself. Two Hunters in long white robes stood on either side of the throne.
Sekhmi from various Elite prides, all dressed in white, stood along the grey stone walls. Simone recognized many of them and greeted them with a smile and a nod of her head. Another Sekhmi, who radiated an aura of mystery and threat so thick she could almost taste it in the air, approached Simone and Theores. Like all Sekhmi, he was tall and well built; what made him stand out was the way he held himself. It defied description. Everybody could sense in him the Alpha, the one other vampires unconditionally obeyed. But it wasn’t like the sheer power and charisma that Tor exuded; it was more frightening. Simone couldn’t tell if it was his ghostly pale purple eyes, his long, shimmering white hair spilling over his robe like liquid silver, or something else, a whole that was greater than the sum of its parts. All she knew was that when he approached them, she felt her skin crawl.
This imposing Sekhmi was the legendary Crian, the head of the Hunter pride. He was like a chameleon, changing color accordingly to his environment or circumstance. Now, Crian was the epitome of a gentleman—which was a good thing, because if his demeanor had been any creepier, Simone wouldn’t have been able to keep herself from cringing.
Bowing to Theores, he kissed her hand.
“I am honored to welcome the revered Council member to our ceremony.” His voice was smooth, conveying all of the mystery Simone felt in his aura, but none of the threat. He nodded at Simone, acknowledging her presence. “Welcome, Princess. I hope you’ll enjoy our ritual. We’ll begin shortly.”
The Sekhmi began chanting in deep, sonorous voices. The massive door to Simone’s left opened and three Hunters entered, each leading a cloaked figure.
Amiti.
Simone knew the drill, knew how it worked—although she still didn’t get the ritual. But she’d only been to one auction; maybe this was the norm and the one she’d been to was the exception.
The Amiti were brought to the center of the chamber and positioned in front of the idol. As the Hunters removed the prisoners’ cloaks, Simone sensed a familiar wave of arousal and blood lust that rolled though the crowd.
The prisoners, one male and two females, were nude. All were exquisitely beautiful, as was to be expected with Amiti, but one female was simply astonishing.. Petite and slender, with curves that seemed to be carved from alabaster, she appeared to be in her early twenties. Her face looked like an angel’s, with skin that glowed in the torchlight like the light of a fading dawn, and downcast eyes hidden beneath thick, long lashes—but her lips were full and sensuous. And Goddess, Simone had never seen hair like hers. It would have put Botticelli’s Venus to shame, flowing like liquid gold over her nude body, reaching her hips. Simone felt herself staring, slack-jawed, as though hypnotized.
At that moment, the chorus of chanting stopped, leaving one female soprano voice filling the chamber. The voice belonged to Riona, a priestess of Sekhmet and a Hunter. While she sang, her assistant, Solus, carefully transferred a few dozen crystal vials from a large tray to the altar.
Once she’d completed the invocation, Riona dipped her fingers into a golden bowl Solus had handed her and anointed each Amiti’s forehead, chest, and stomach with blood. The golden Amiti was last in line, and she was so frightened that she burst into tears.
Simone couldn't take her eyes off the girl. It must be terrifying to stand naked in front of a crowd of vampires, not knowing what was going to happen.
When she came up for auction, Simone would ask Theores to buy her.
Riona, meanwhile, was returning to the first female, slicing her wrist with a slim dagger, and allowing the blood to stream into the crystal glasses on the altar. The air grew heavy with scent, first the exotic fragrance of Amiti blood and then the thicker, darker scents of Sekhmi arousal and bloodlust.
Simone stared, fascinated, as Riona moved the female’s wrist across the vials, making certain that her blood went into every vessel. She no longer cared that her fangs elongated; she was one of the Elite, and there was nothing unusual about her reaction.
Riona finished with the first Amiti and released her to collapse on the floor, shaking, ashen, and still bleeding. Then the priestess repeated the process with the male and the golden Amiti girl, slashing their wrists and filling the vials with their blood. By the time she was done, all the vials were full.
Simone took the vial Solus offered her, but despite her powerful thirst, she couldn’t bring herself to drink. Puzzled, she glanced around and caught Odji’s eyes. He seemed to be having a similar pro
blem.
Riona pulled the first Amiti female to her feet and hauled her over to the altar. The female sobbed and struggled in Riona’s grip. Solus and another Hunter lifted her onto the altar, spread her arms and legs, and bound her wrists and ankles in metal cuffs embedded in the stone of the altar, totally immobilizing her. The female panicked, jerking her hips and arching her back in an effort to free herself from the restraints.
Riona just watched her, smiling, clearly relishing her power. She picked up a sharp silver-steel dagger from the altar, holding it with both hands, and raised it high above the female. Then she looked up at the face of the Sekhmet idol and pronounced: “To the Great Sekhmet for preserving the Vampire Elite. To the Great Lioness for granting us successful hunts. Please accept our sacrifice, Great Goddess.”
The chanting in the room started again, louder this time. Riona plunged the dagger through the Amiti’s heart until it hit the stone beneath her.
The sobbing stopped.
Simone’s eyes lost focus and her whole body suddenly became weightless. For a moment she was completely disoriented. Where was she?
This was not happening. She was trapped in a horror movie.
Transfixed, she watched Riona cut the Amiti’s chest open and thrust her hand into the bloody flesh. With a swift movement, Riona ripped out the Amiti’s heart and raised it above her head. The chanting in the room reached a crescendo, the walls vibrating with the resonance.
Simone’s vial slipped from her hand and shattered into a fountain of sharp, bloody shards as it hit the stone floor. Her mind was playing tricks on her. She saw Arianna lying brutalized on the altar, her red hair cascading like blood to the floor.
Without making eye contact with anyone, holding her head high, Simone carefully made her way to the exit. No hysterics. I am the Elite. The Elite have nerves of steel. Nerves of steel ...
She had no idea how she managed to leave the room without completely losing it.
Once outside, she took a deep breath of fresh air and then, hands shaking, she pulled her cell phone from her purse and dialed Antar’s number.
