Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Blood Vice Book 6)

by Angela Roquet

  Chapter Nine

  I didn’t see much of Dante over the next few days. It was my own fault. I stayed holed up in my room, letting the harem staff deliver my blood, and I even skipped out on the gym sessions with Murphy. Other than watching Laura’s soap with Mandy, I mostly read etiquette and poetry books. The only time I ventured out was for the sessions with Ursula in the library.

  The princess didn’t even complain about my lack of focus. She was distracted herself, with the upcoming ball and the household wardrobe Dante had put entirely in her hands. Though, as the week dragged on, she shifted her attention back to my etiquette lessons.

  We met earlier than usual Thursday night, since the tailor would be arriving soon after, and Ursula wanted to be present for each fitting. She, Dante, Audrey, and I would be wearing more elaborate getups, but Mandy, Murphy, Audrey’s dowry donors, and a handful of other guards and donors would also be outfitted in matching attire.

  We were to make a strong, elegant showing to prevent the vultures of night society from targeting us as prey. Ursula’s paranoia had needed a more constructive outlet. Dante had been wise to assign the ball attire to her. Basket case or not, the princess knew fashion—and she wasn’t so far gone that she’d consider accessorizing us with tinfoil hats.

  I wanted to be excited about the ball. But any time I thought about it, all I could picture was Dante and Audrey together. Dancing in the queen’s ballroom. Greeting the other fancy vamps. I imagined that Audrey knew a dozen different waltzes, and she’d probably been studying the who’s who of vamp society since she was twelve.

  “Have you heard a single thing I’ve said?” The tone of Ursula’s voice crossed into dangerous territory, and I sat upright at the library table.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I must have zoned out. What was the question?”

  Ursula snorted and leaned against a bookcase near the window. Laughter and splashing filtered in through the glass, and she turned to steal a glance at the pool below. It was heated, so Dante hadn’t winterized it yet.

  “She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” Ursula said. “Dante says she’s an exceptional pianist, too. He’s having a baby grand delivered for her. Darkly Hall certainly covers all their bases.”

  “Do you play anything?” I asked, eager to steer the conversation away from Audrey.

  Ursula shot me an impish grin before turning back to the window. “My human father sang in Mozart’s chorus. After the great concertmaster’s passing in Vienna, I was shipped to the States to sing for Raynor Taylor.”

  “You must have been good,” I said, still digesting the fact that she’d been alive during Mozart’s time. “How did you end up at a blood finishing school?”

  “Chasing a girl.” A hiccup of a laugh escaped her. “How else? A few years later, I sang for Morgan. The rest is history.” She sat on the bench in front of the window and sighed. “You don’t seem to have much interest in music. I would have requested more drawing supplies on your behalf, but you haven’t done much of that lately either.”

  I shrugged, unable to offer a valid excuse. “Does the duke sing or play an instrument?”

  “Dante’s always been fond of his cameras—and the sun. His sire, Alexander, wasn’t musically inclined either. Lili found him in the theater. Talent—or at least passion—is important when you have forever ahead of you.”

  “I’ve never heard you sing before,” I said, propping my chin in one hand.

  “And you never will.” The light in Ursula’s eyes dimmed. “The last song I sang was for Morgan. My music died with her.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. I looked down at the open etiquette book I’d smuggled back into the library before our lesson. Maybe I didn’t know how to sing or play piano, but at least I wouldn’t be falling on my face at the ball. And perhaps I could stand to brush up on what artistic talent I had, too.

  “Could I…draw you sometime?” I asked Ursula. She looked perplexed by the question, one perfectly groomed eyebrow arching suggestively.

  “Like one of your French girls?”

  “I was thinking clothed. Maybe a fancy gown,” I said in a flat tone. Ursula smirked at me and glanced out the window again as more noise bubbled up from the pool.

  “Perhaps tomorrow. The fittings will take some time, and I’d like to go for a swim before Dante seals everything up for the season.”

  I stood and joined her, spying on the party below. Audrey and one of her dowry donors tossed a beach ball back and forth in the water with a pair of donors I recognized from the harem. The duke’s pending scion wore a vintage bathing suit with polka dots. Her hair was pulled back and styled into Dutch braids that ended in a bun at the base of her neck. She was catalog perfect.

  Her other donor-in-waiting watched from a lounge chair, a closed book in her lap. Worry crinkled her features, but anytime Audrey looked up at her from the pool, she smiled and waved.

  “Poor thing,” Ursula commented.

  “Poor thing?” I stared at the princess. “What does she have to be so anxious about? Isn’t this what they signed up for? Isn’t this what they trained for?”

  Ursula shrugged. “Trained or not, she’s waiting for her friend to die so she can be her first meal. Wouldn’t you be anxious?”

  I pressed my lips together and looked out the window again as guilt knotted my stomach. Maybe I could find it in myself to be nice to the new humans in the house. After all, they were here for Audrey to snack on, not Dante.

  “I’m going to send one of the guards out to fetch some quality drawing paper and charcoals before tomorrow night,” Ursula said. “Hopefully, Dante will have a suitable frame in that studio of his.”

  “Frame?” I shook my head. “I was just going to break in one of the new sketchpads.”

  She lifted her chin. “My scion’s first portrait of me will be properly preserved for centuries to come. I’ll not have it any other way—”

  “Okay, okay,” I said before the pitch of her voice rose any higher.

  She headed for the library door, but then paused and turned back to me. “That will be all for your lessons tonight. I’ll see you in Dante’s office when the tailor arrives.”

  I blinked at her, surprised that she’d said anything at all. Let alone something nice. “Uh, yup. I mean, yes, Your Highness.” The words felt odd in my mouth, saying them without sarcasm or in fear for my life.

  Ursula seemed just as surprised as I was. She nodded slowly and then slipped out of the library, leaving me standing there in a confused daze.

  I scooped up the most recent etiquette book I’d been secretly studying in my room and made a poetry sandwich out of it again. The familiar routine was habit now, though it wasn’t necessary. I’d yet to bump into anyone who cared about my selection of books on the way back to my room. The guards who knew and liked me never offered more than a passing smile or nod—except for Murphy.

  Thinking of him made me feel like a jerk. We hadn’t spoken since we returned from Bathory House. I assumed he was mad at me for whatever trouble I’d gotten him into with the duke. But angry or not, I considered him my friend. I should have checked in on him by now.

  I glanced down at my watch as I stepped out of the library and headed for the north-wing stairwell. Murphy would be finishing up in the gym about now. I had enough time to swing by there before stashing my books and getting changed for the fitting.

  Ursula had given me a slip and petticoat to wear for the tailoring. She’d also picked out a pair of tights and heeled boots that laced up to just above my ankles. Those were required for the fitting, as well, since she was so particular about the exact length off the floor a dress should be.

  I also wanted to fix my hair and makeup before crossing paths with Dante again.

  I had this nervous surge of panic whenever I thought of our last conversation. I didn’t know what to make of our…bond. I was impatient with Dante one second, and hesitant the next. He seemed to have the same problem, and I was just as
aggravated with him as I was with myself over it. Were we playing hard-to-get or taking things slow? Were we doing anything at all? Should we be doing anything at all?

  And like clockwork, just as soon as those thoughts lit up my mind, so did Roman’s face. A part of me desperately hoped I’d find him at the queen’s ball. A more selfish part of me hoped Vanessa would keep him at the bat cave with her forever. Then I wouldn’t have to make up excuses for the feelings I had for the man who had simultaneously killed him and ended our affair.

  The decision had also saved me from an extra-long coffin nap. So, there was that.

  I pushed the guilt aside to make room for more as I reached the gym. As I stepped inside the room, I heard Murphy’s familiar, husky voice.

  “Is that the best you got?” he howled at another guy in the ring with him. They bounced on their toes, dodging and ducking punches. Then Murphy’s eyes darted across the room to where I stood by the door, and he froze. His opponent took the opportunity to clock him across the jaw.

  I winced and sucked in a hissing breath. “Ouch.”

  The other guy spun around and gaped at me. He spat his mouthguard into his open hand and backed into a corner as Murphy dragged himself to his feet.

  “Oh, man! I thought you were trying to pull a fast one on me. I-I’m so sorry, Murph,” he stammered.

  “It’s all good,” Murphy said, rubbing his face. “It’s about time for me to call it quits anyway.”

  “Same time tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” Murphy answered, shooting me a sideways glance.

  Of course he’d replaced me as his sparring partner. He was a guard. This wasn’t a hobby for him. He was required to stay sharp as a member of the duke’s security detail. I swallowed and tried to smile at him.

  “What can I do you for, Skye?” Murphy asked as the other guard grabbed up his gym bag and climbed down off the raised platform. The man wiped the sweat from his face and nodded politely at me as he walked past on his way out the door.

  I shrugged. “I just wanted to apologize for bailing on you these past few days—and for any trouble you may have gotten into over the Bathory House incident.”

  Murphy snorted and grabbed his towel off the corner post before sitting on the edge of the platform. He folded his arms over one of the coated ropes that lined the ring. “I might be imagining things here, but I think the boss has a soft spot for you. He wasn’t even this uptight after the trash truck park battle.”

  I whispered out a nervous laugh and looked down at the books tucked under my arm, my other hand covering the titles down their spines. “It’s because I’m Ursula’s scion now.”

  “Is that right?” Murphy teased. “I’d completely forgotten, Your Grace.” He twirled a hand in the air and bowed his head. “Your princess organized a little class for the guards and donors attending the ball. We’re to express our loyalties and admiration liberally and deliberately,” he said with a dry grin.

  “Good grief.” I rolled my eyes. “She’s taking this etiquette business a little far, don’t you think?”

  He cocked his head from side to side and then touched his jaw again, tenderly. “If this bruises before I have to play dress-up with her tonight, she’ll probably order me to stop boxing until after the big party.”

  “Maybe she’ll just recommend a little makeup,” I offered, earning a horrified look from him.

  “Don’t go giving her any ideas now,” he said, running his towel over his short hair and flicking sweat in my direction. “I thought we were friends, Skye.”

  “Are we?” I asked, only half-joking. “Can I still come over to play? Will your new friend mind?”

  “Please.” He made a face at me. “You know what time I’m here. You’re always welcome.”

  I smiled. “If I’m able to show my face around here after this fitting, you can count on seeing me tomorrow.”

  “Ditto,” Murphy said, his eyebrows hitching with concern.

  * * * * *

  By the time I had changed and made it to Dante’s office—temporarily converted to accommodate the tailor—Ursula’s moment of civility had passed. She gave my slip and petticoat an affronted once-over.

  “I realize it’s more modest than you’re accustomed to, but it’s still underwear, dear. You could have at least put a maxi dress over it.”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, suddenly grateful that Dante wasn’t present. His little blood bride probably knew better than to waltz around the manor half-dressed.

  Ursula gave my attempt at makeup an even more unsavory scowl. “We’ll have the harem manager take care of…that on the night of the ball,” she said, waving a finger at my face.

  “I’ve never seen Yoshiko wear makeup,” I said, wondering if Ursula knew what she was talking about. I couldn’t remember ever seeing her interact with the donors outside of ordering them to fetch her blood, but I kept that note to myself.

  “She doesn’t anymore, but she’s had the proper training,” Ursula said before edging out of the tailor’s way.

  “I am Ethan, Your Grace,” the man said, bowing his head briefly before motioning for me to lift my arms so he could wrap a corset around my midsection. After squeezing my waist into an unnaturally small circumference, he added a second petticoat over the first. Then, finally, he helped me into the gown.

  After the falling-out with House Novak, Ursula hadn’t even attempted to request their services. But, she assured me more than once, House Vionnet was older and more renowned. She’d flown in one of their best, and several assistants, from France and put them up in a presidential suite at the Nightfall Opera House.

  Dante had several empty guest rooms in the south wing, but crafting numerous elaborate garments required more workspace. Ethan Vionnet had brought his own machines and dress forms, a zillion rolls of fabric, and baskets full of lace and beads for Ursula to choose from. He was determined to give the princess exactly what she wanted. And now that she’d been given access to the family fortune again, she was willing to pay out the nose for it.

  “Too much lace,” Ursula snapped as Ethan held a section up across my chest where the raw hem of the dress collar stopped. “But I like the fringed edge. Maybe if you ruffle it and stitch it under the collar, almost like a modesty panel—minus the modesty because I’d like to see some cleavage—not too much, though. Keep it tasteful.”

  Ethan’s hands shook as he attempted to follow her instructions just as fast as she spat them out. He accidentally poked me with a pin as he folded the collar of my dress down an inch lower, and I inhaled sharply through my nose. Sorry, he mouthed, giving me a pained smile.

  Ursula paused to dig through one of the baskets he’d brought. She fished out a roll of black lace and a chiffon rosette. “We want to toe the line between Queen Victoria and Moulin Rouge,” she said as she turned around and held the sheer rose up to my shoulder and then to my hair. “Some feathers might be nice. What do you think, my scion?”

  I glanced at the folding panel of mirrors propped against Dante’s desk and admired the sea of green and black the princess had chosen for the color palette. “Ten points to Slytherin.”

  Ursula blinked stiffly. “Should I assume that’s a compliment?”

  “Assume away.” When she continued to stare at me, I added, “It’s perfection.”

  “Ah, I like that answer much better,” she said, then glanced at the clock on the far wall. “Audrey will be here shortly. Once Ethan’s finished pinning your gown, you may disrobe and resume your evening. I’m going to check in with Dante to see if he has any input to offer on his new blood doll’s attire.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.” I nodded my head slightly, careful not to move too much as Ethan finished adjusting my collar. He paused long enough to cock his head at Ursula, as well.

  “Highness,” he said around the pins tucked in one corner of his mouth.

  Ursula left through one of the double doors that led into the front foyer, and I watched Ethan’s shoulders drop from under his ears.r />
  “You’re doing great,” I said, his visible anxiety dragging the compliment out of me. “Really, this is the nicest dress I’ve ever worn.”

  Ethan plucked the remaining pins from his mouth and smiled. “Merci. This is my first ensemble in America. I want it to be magnifique.”

  He helped me out of the dress, and I left the office, quickly heading back to my room in hopes of avoiding Audrey. Laura’s soap would be on soon, and I had a book about proper eye contact and curtseys to finish. Barf.

  I was going to have to get over my problem with Dante’s pending scion soon…or find better reading material. Maybe take up one of those damn hobbies the duke kept suggesting.

  Chapter Ten

  At the Duke of House Lilith’s manor, socializing took place either in the gym or the harem lounge. The guards mostly stuck to the gym, and the donors to the lounge, but there was a handful who cross-pollinated. Murphy and I both did, but Mandy was probably the most integrated between the two crowds.

  She and Yoshiko had bonded over their love of video games, and come Friday night, I’d let Mandy talk me into inviting her to watch Laura’s soap in my bedroom with us after a round of sparring with Murphy. Yoshiko returned the favor by inviting us upstairs for smoothies—and blood for me.

  “Pew, pew! Die!” Mandy screamed at the big screen as she mashed buttons on one of the video game controllers. Her high ponytail flopped on top of her head as she squirmed on the sofa, using her whole body to play.

  “You first! Ha!” Yoshiko replied from the opposite end of the couch. I was squeezed between them, getting bounced and bumped all over the place.

  “Noooo!” Mandy wailed, her character spewing teeth and blood as Yoshiko’s avatar delivered a throat punch followed by a kicking cartwheel of an uppercut.

  I watched wide-eyed as I slurped my blood cocktail through a stainless-steel straw. Yoshiko had prepared my beverage to match hers and Mandy’s—in a glass with a little umbrella—for a change of scenery, she’d said. Without tapping a vein, this was the most variety I’d had in quite some time. I appreciated the effort.