“I’ve never understood the true purpose of tricksters. Sure, they test the truth to people’s resolutions – well that of all creatures except Gods, the two of us, and your fae seraphs. Given the extent of the mind-fucks they can create and their ramifications, I’ve always thought of them as vermin,” Sylvain’s brow rose in surprise at the admission. Seeing it, Vérène balked at him, “What, you don’t think I have principles? You should know me better than that, brother!”
“I know you have principles, sister,” Sylvain replied. “I’m just surprised that you admit to a dislike of one of your Unseelie. You’ve always been vehement in your defense of them.”
“Well, just because I am responsible for them, and they are my subjects, doesn’t mean that I like all of them or that I approve of what those that I like do,” she replied tartly. “I just never did anything about them because they don’t affect me.” She shrugged yet again.
“Fair enough,” Sylvain nodded. “Thus far this is a singular attack, but my gut tells me to not dismiss it as trivial. I strongly suspect that Ayden was involved and through him, possibly the Vampire Council, too. The next attack may or may not utilize the services of rogue Unseelie, but to ignore the possibilities until it occurs wouldn’t be wise.”
“No,” agreed Vérène, “we can’t take the chance. Despite your perceptions of my people and me, we do not want carnage. We just like things stirred up and with a bit of a twist.”
She was agreeing to assist him, so he let it go.
“I will help you. Not just because you ask, but because this must be exceedingly important to you as you’ve broken a three thousand year old separation for it. And of course, you’re my brother. You may not believe it, but I’d die for you.”
She, again, surprised him. He remembered that life had never been tedious around his sister. He felt a nob form in his throat at the sincerity of her words and almost believed her. Swallowing it down, he met her gaze. Her eyes too held the light sheen of tears being pushed back. “Thank you,” he said simply, sincerely.
Vérène waved away his thanks. “There is much for me to consider,” Vérène explained. “Whilst I do not trust my entire kingdom of subjects, I do trust my lords. Gwydion,” she referred to the Lord of Tricksters, “is loyal to me and would not have been part of this. Let me think on this and get back to you.”
After agreeing on the logistics of their next meeting, Vérène watched Sylvain leave. The thought that he was the last to arrive and the first to leave popped into her head. She gave herself a mental scolding for feeling the sting of it and left the hall.
Arriving in her bedroom at the Dark Castle, she motioned for one of her handmaidens. The hag, a gruesome creature that epitomized the viewer’s every visual nightmare, crept forward. Taking a sip of vampire blood, Vérène shot dark eyes filled with authority at her minion. “Fetch Gwydion. Now!”
Chapter 7
Sophie opened her bedroom door and was surprised to find Sylvain lounging in a chair on the opposite side of the passage. Traditionally passageways were not wide enough for occasional seating areas, but the fae palace was nothing of what one might expect and everything one might find fantastical. Sylvain looked debonair in a cream suit and blue shirt, which perfectly matched his eyes. They were eyes that promised pleasurable mischief.
“You’re looking quite dashing, monsieur,” Sophie teased.
“Merci, ma chérie,” he replied, eyes raking over her and setting her skin on fire.
“Are you off somewhere?” Sophie asked.
Sylvain nodded, and then came towards her. “I’m off to dinner with you,” he replied confidently. She knew she shouldn’t be nervous, but she felt like a dangerous predator was stalking her. Sophie smothered the tremor of anticipation that ran through her.
“Okay…” Sophie hesitated not taking his hand. For a moment, Sylvain’s confidence waivered, and funny enough, that act increased her, own. Drat the man for being able to shield from her!
She took his hand briefly, squeezed, and let go. “I’ll need to change.” She looked down at her casual summer dress. No way was she going out with him when he looked like that and she looked the way she did. They were obviously going somewhere smart; perhaps the new restaurant in the Garden District. It was being hailed as the new ‘in’ place to take a date, which was something Marie had fumed about a minute before she started plotting ways to steal back their customers.
Sylvain shook his head and grabbed her hand, “No need.”
Before she knew it, she was dressed in a champagne gold, flimsy dress of silk and chiffon. It was neither old-fashioned nor avant garde. In fact, it was an amalgamation between a western evening dress and harem princess. Her feet were encased in strappy, flat sandals of gold and diamante. As Sophie followed him up the stairs on their mysterious date, she noted they were extremely comfortable. Catching her reflection in a mirror against the wall of the castle’s top floor foyer, she saw that his magick had left no detail unattended. Her makeup, naturally light, with a slight shimmer of gold, matched her outfit. Her hair was swept up so that gold curls cascaded like a waterfall down her back. Earrings, of intricate Arabian filigreed design adorned her ears and matched the bracelets clinking as she moved. He was a clever man, Sophie thought to herself. Sneaky, but clever. The surprise date, mysterious destination, and magickal conjuring of her outfit had rendered her momentarily speechless and into an accepting follower.
“Where are we going?” Sophie finally found her voice.
Sylvain shot her a grin and disarmed her once again. “You’ll see,” he replied, cryptically. “You did say that you wanted us to get to know each other,” he reminded her.
And trust a guy to bring that up, she mentally huffed. Feeling unsettled by her lack of control of the situation, Sophie breathed deeply. She realized breathing had been a mistake as soon as his scent hit nose. He smelled of security, strength, comfort, and sex. Dieu! Sophie was about to ask again, when he stopped walking and swooped down for a kiss.
Again, the electric shock they’d felt earlier jolted them and awakened her 'girly' parts. Her eyes automatically went to his crotch, wanting to see if it had any effect on him. She noted the distinctive bulge in his pants. Mouth-watering, she thought and allowed herself a moment to linger on future images of orally fixating on that shaft of deliciousness. She moved her gaze upwards and met his.
Sylvain trailed a finger along her cheek. “I love that I did this,” he referred to the blood red color of her eyes. He leaned down and gave her another kiss.
Sophie noted that their chaste kiss had affected him, also. His eyes had turned a deeper shade of blue. Emboldened by that knowledge, she cupped him gently, but firmly through his pants. Sylvain hissed and pulled back, regarding her. She saw intrigue in his expression.
“And I love that I did this to you, cher,” she teased then stepped away. “Now, take me to this mysterious place we’re having dinner at.”
Sylvain considered Sophie. He had initially been attracted to her tranquil strength. While she was gorgeous, he was jaded by looks, as the fae were generally beautiful. So, as lame as it sounded even to him, it was her character that drew him to her. Now, he looked at Sophie - the-vamp-and-vixen with red eyes promising satisfaction. He was more than ready to deliver. It would take little for either of them to seduce the other right now. A quick roll around in the sheets appealed, but didn’t feel right with Sophie. He wouldn’t go so far as to say that they had a relationship going, but they were friends, real friends, and deserved more than that. She was still looking at him with those vamp eyes. Grabbing her hands, he pulled them towards the last flight of stairs that would lead to the rooftop.
The roof of the castle was magnificent; it overlooked the entire fae hollow. The most startling thing was not the impact of the view though, it was the magick carpet suspended in air, right in front of them.
Sophie let out a surprised laugh. “Really? A flying carpet? That’s our ride?”
Sylvain grinned
. It was exactly the response he’d been aiming for. “Sure,” he shrugged, feigning indifference. Sophie grinned back as if to say, “Yeah right.”
As soon as they both stood on the carpet, it transformed into an expansive lounge. Sophie shook her head in disbelief. If she hadn’t seen it and gotten on, she would have sworn she was in the lounge area of a penthouse with a view to relish. She declined the champagne he offered her, content to sit on the sofa, wrapped in his arms. There was no need for conversation. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of them to just sit back and enjoy the journey together.
When the carpet exited the hollow, Sophie gasped in surprise. They were in what appeared to be a desert oasis where palm trees dotted the landscape and blue waters broke the monotony of the desert sand. Multi-leveled, sand-colored buildings, near replicas of each other were placed here and there and in no orderly manner. This was definitely a fae hollow as the inhabitants, although more olive in complexion, looked fae - they were too beautiful, too ethereal to be anything else. “Where are we? I thought we’d be in the bayou.”
“The Moroccan hollow,” Sylvain replied. “The portal goes where ever the fae wishes it to go.”
“But I’m not fae,” Sophie stated, understanding dawning. “So, because we’re from the bayou, we return there.” Sylvain nodded. “So, that’s what you do when you go through the portal. You visit your various hollows.”
“Although I’ve made the bayou hollow my base, I cannot ignore the rest of my subjects,” Sylvain enlightened. “The portal provides a convenient way of getting me where I need to be.”
They’d come to the middle of the hollow and like with the bayou counterpart, the palace was placed just off-center of it all. Although it too was flat-roofed and sand-colored, the building was structurally more intricate with turrets, walkways, and carvings illustrating an exalted status.
“Your majesty,” a dark-skinned fae came forward and bowed to Sylvain. Sylvain acknowledged the man with a nod of his head before the man turned towards Sophie and greeted her. “All is arranged as you wish,” he informed Sylvain.
Sylvain helped Sophie off the carpet. “Shokrun, Khaleeb,” he thanked the man.
“Afwan. My pleasure,” the man stated, and then disappeared into the castle. Sophie presumed that he went back to whatever duties he occupied.
She cast her eyes towards Sylvain. Here was yet another side to him; one that she should’ve guessed, but hadn’t thought to. Then again, who would have been able to imagine this? He should look oddly out of place with his fair skin and blonde hair amongst these subjects, but he seemed as at ease (and authoritative) here as he did in the bayou hollow. It made her wonder who exactly he was. This line of thought was beginning to agitate her, so she gave a mental shrug and resigned herself to focus on the here and now and the amazing experiences being afforded to her.
Once away from the eyes of his subjects, Sylvain relaxed a bit more and turned towards her, smiling broadly. “Are you ready for dinner?”
“After this,” Sophie waved a hand at their surroundings, “I’m not sure what to expect, so lead the way Your Majesty.”
Sylvain dipped his head and gave her bottom lip a quick nibble. “You’ll pay for that later, Sophie. I promise, ma chérie.”
“I can’t wait,” Sophie replied, lips curved in wicked contemplation. Sylvain chuckled and drew her close.
“We’re going to teleport,” he warned. “Hold on.”
Before Sophie had a chance to catch her breath, she found herself amidst a bustling crowd of vendors in what appeared to be an open-aired food court. Well, I could learn to live like this, she thought. She’d eaten many a poh boy walking around The Quarter.
“We’re not eating here,” Sylvain smiled. “Not the most romantic of settings.”
“Cher, nothing can top that flying carpet, so I’m good with street food.”
“You need more romancing, Sophie,” Sylvain smiled at her.
“Who am I to differ with such an authority on the topic?” Sophie teased.
“Another thing you’ll have to pay for, ma chérie,” Sylvain promised.
Sophie looked forward to these erotic promises of retribution. Stifling a shiver of anticipation, she followed him through a labyrinth of pathways, stalls, and crowds only to stop at the entrance of what looked like a deserted alley.
“The restaurant is through there,” Sylvain led her towards a nondescript, closed door. There weren't any signs of anything fantastic beyond it. In fact, the plain, blue door could well have been that of someone’s home. Puzzled, but prepared for absolutely anything at this point, she braced herself for another surprise.
Nothing could have prepared her for the relief the seductive, cozy setting provided after jostling through the throngs of crowds and activity. The first thing that hit her was the lack of noise. The room wasn’t quiet. As with any upmarket restaurant, the clink of glasses and cutlery and soft chatter prevailed. But it was a far cry from the throngs of crowds and activity a few feet away from the secluded restaurant. While Sylvain spoke to the maître dˈ, Sophie felt herself relax, lulled by the soothing sounds of the Gnaoua guitarists. The room was small and square with a ceiling that aimed to reach the skies. The décor was rich--red, browns, gold, and creams combined with Moroccan furnishings. The soft glow of countless candles and silk and velvet scattered with rose petals completed the sexy, hedonistic ambience that promised sensory engulfment.
The waiter led them to a table in one of the alcoves lining the sides of the restaurant. Although the entrance opened onto the rest of the restaurant, the alcove was partially hidden by an elaborately carved archway around the entrance and just big enough to seat two people comfortably.
The rest of the dinner was more predictable. The lengthy, elaborate meal allowed for much conversation time. Sophie discovered that the meal, diffa, was an inadequately short word for a procession of rich, aromatic dishes and decadent deserts that laced the tongue with culinary bliss. More satisfying than the food, was the easy banter, and heady flirtation.
Sophie found herself relaxing and speaking of growing up at the chateaux, later adapting to her new role as vampire, and now her role as Coffin Girl and tutor for the girls. Sylvain knew of the milestones, but not the details. The light-hearted discussion was something she realized they both needed, but for different reasons. Sophie couldn’t ascertain what his motive was, but her gut told he it had to do with his sister, and what had occurred in the past. Although she was dying to hear more from him than the same level of detail her gave her, she knew that she couldn’t, in all fairness, expect it. So, she listened to his talk of the hollows, and of what it was like growing up as the fae prince. It was, in essence, a first date like any other; tentative, yet excitingly new.
After dinner, Sylvain led them to another alley and yet another unmarked door.
“I don’t know if I can eat anymore,” Sophie protested.
“Food is not what we’ll find here, ma chérie,” Sylvain’s eyes glinted wickedly.
“Is this another one of your homes?” Sophie asked, hesitant to step inside. A private space with this man suddenly didn’t seem like such a good idea. She tugged her hand from his grasp, but he merely reached out for it again and knocked on the door.
“Relax,” he said, “it’s not what you expect. I promise. You trust me, don’t you?” He asked, brows drawn together quizzically.
“Sure,” Sophie nodded, “with my life.” But not with my heart, she acknowledged silently.
“Well then, time for your next surprise,” Sylvain said as he stepped through the now open door.
“We’re in a spa?!” Sophie asked. “I honestly don’t know of any first dates where the guy takes the girl to the spa. Not that I’m complaining..." she stopped herself before she said something weird. Coffee back at my place - wasn’t that the usual line? Or let me take you home and a kiss at the door or hot sex against the door. She had never heard of ending a date at the spa!
“Trust
me,” was all he said, eyes twinkling.
Sophie shook her head in derision. She had to remind herself that Sylvain was not a regular guy and given his take on a dinner date, this may not be a regular spa. “Okay,” she agreed warily. “What are we doing here?”
“That would be telling,” Sylvain offered, “and would spoil the surprise. Play along with me, Sophie? Please?”
At her nod, he called one of the therapists' forward who ushered Sophie into the lady’s change rooms. She placed her clothes into the locker and slipped into a brand new spa bikini, comfortable, oversized robe, and spa slippers. She would not go nude. This looked more and more like a couple’s massage treatment. If this was an old-school brothel, she would’ve had her doubts, and scooted out of the place, but it looked, for all intents and purposes, like a regular, high-end salon.
Supernatural Seduction (Book 2 of the Coffin Girls Series) Page 9
