Craved: A Vampire Syndicate Paranormal Romance (The Vampire Syndicate Book 2)

by Rebecca Rivard

  Victorine could be ruthless, even brutal, but her word could be trusted. When she signed a treaty, she kept it.

  Unless the treaty was with Karoly Kral.

  Her hatred for him went bone-deep. She wouldn’t break the treaty, but setting the slayers on his sons was exactly the sort of devious thing she might do.

  Stop it. I compressed my mouth. That’s Rafe talking, poisoning you against her.

  The ferns rustled, and Victorine appeared as if conjured up by my thoughts. “So, you’ve made your decision?”

  Her pleasant tone made my shoulders tighten. I willed myself to relax.

  “Not yet. It’s hours until dawn.”

  “Then why are you here instead of the ballroom? I intend to make the announcement at midnight.”

  My stomach muscles jittered. I fingered the soft purple petals of a moth orchid.

  “I needed some air. And midnight is too soon. I need more time.”

  “Is that so?”

  I turned my head to see her eyes slit with suspicion. I stared back steadily. If she didn’t believe me, if she got it into her head to check my suite, Rafe was dead.

  “Étan is agreeable,” she said at last. “I know he’s spoken to you.”

  “Oui.” My fingers constricted, snapping the orchid off its stalk. I stared, horrified, at the crushed petals.

  Victorine made an impatient sound. “Look at me, Zoe.”

  I set the broken flower in the pot and turned to face her like the obedient doll I’d been raised to be.

  “He’s the best choice. With him as your mate, you’ll be accepted immediately as my lieutenant.”

  “But I’ll never bond with him.”

  “You don’t know that. Give it time. The mate bond may come.”

  “Please don’t make me do this.” My hands balled into fists. “I want what you had with Father. Is that so much to ask?”

  Her expression softened. She took one of my hands, smoothed out the fingers.

  “Trust me, ma chère. This is the best way. Otherwise, you’ll be open to a challenge.”

  “You think I don’t know that?”

  I hated that she was right, but she was. I was very young to ascend to lieutenant. Étan would be within his rights to challenge me for the position. It might never come to that, since Victorine would consider a challenge to her only daughter a personal insult, and Étan knew it.

  But if Victorine squelched Étan’s challenge, I’d appear weak, the woman who’d been appointed lieutenant only because her mother was Prima.

  And I was done appearing weak.

  I’d worked for this. I deserved it.

  Victorine was ignoring one thing: I was the brains behind the Tremblay Syndicate’s recent growth. I might be young, but I’d been blessed with a sharp, analytical mind. Backed by her ruthlessness, my strategies had doubled the Tremblay Syndicate’s wealth in the seven years.

  She’d grown to depend on me.

  It was time I reminded her of that.

  “I’ll choose someone,” I said. “Maybe it will be Étan, and maybe it won’t. But it will be my decision.”

  Her face hardened, the brief softness gone as if wiped away by a giant eraser.

  “Or?” she returned.

  I returned her gaze, letting her Or hang there, unanswered.

  I would not let her back me into a corner. It was enough that we understood each other.

  She adjusted the strap of my dress. “Don’t let it come to a challenge. Étan won’t easily give up his position.”

  I lifted my chin. “He wouldn’t dare.”

  “Don’t be silly, ma petite.” A sharp scarlet fingernail tapped my cheek. “If it were anyone but you, he’d remain my lieutenant. Of course, he would dare, and if he challenges you publicly, I might not be able to stop it without shaking up the entire hierarchy. And we both know Étan would win.”

  My chest clenched. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mother.

  “Come.” She glided out of the conservatory, sure I was right behind her. “Our guests will be wondering where we are.”

  My jaw tightened, but I followed.

  Étan stood at the foot of the stairs. “Where have you been?” he demanded. He didn’t wait for an answer, just held out a hand. “People have been asking about you.”

  My hackles rose. Since when did I answer to him?

  But I placed my fingers in his.

  Play the game, I told myself. But my inner voice had a desperate edge.

  He tucked my hand into his elbow. My mother came up on my other side.

  Apprehension squeezed my chest. Only years of practice kept the tension from my face as we returned to the ballroom.

  If I mated with Étan, this would be my life. He was a dominant vampire male. He’d expect me to dress to please him. Tell me what to do, what to think.

  But as lieutenant, I’d outrank him.

  My step checked.

  “Are you doing this to escape from Victorine? Because mate with Étan, and you’ll have two watchdogs, not just one. He’s your mother’s man.”

  Suddenly, Victorine’s strategy was clear to me. Take Étan as my mate, and I’d be the Tremblay lieutenant in name only, while he remained her actual lieutenant.

  My mother would have us both exactly where she wanted.

  And between her and Étan, I’d be ensnared as thoroughly as any blood slave.

  10

  RAFE

  I stared at the closed door, hand fisted around the neck of the wine bottle.

  This isn’t over, Princess.

  Half of me wanted to dart into the hall, grab Zoe and throw her on the bed so we could finish what we’d started. The other half wanted to spank her for being so damn stubborn.

  On the other side of the door, Jean-Michel spoke.

  I went ninja-still. Not moving, not breathing. I strained to hear what they were saying, but the thick wood blocked everything but their tone of voice. Zoe’s response was calm, though. I relaxed slightly, but didn’t move until I heard them descending the winding iron staircase.

  Okay, that was close.

  I scrubbed a hand down my face and took a hefty swig of wine, then paced her rooms, edgy and wondering what to do now.

  A glimpse of myself in Zoe’s mirror stopped me cold. I was wrecked—wild-eyed, my fangs glinting in the dim light. I’d burned through the last dregs of my magic to start the fade on the windowsill.

  Even if I wanted to leave, I couldn’t, unless I was willing to show myself in my own skin. I needed to regroup, replenish my energy—and then I was going to start digging.

  Because maybe I didn’t need to wait around to see what, if anything, Zoe came up with. Maybe I could find my own answers. I was damned if I was going back to New York empty-handed.

  She had to have a laptop around here somewhere, and the ball would last until dawn, time enough for me to crack her password and see if I could hack into the Tremblay system. No one would call me a world-class hacker, but my education had included the basics.

  I finished the bottle of blood-wine in my hand and started searching for Zoe’s laptop.

  Outside, the garden had gotten busier. I heard the low murmur of voices and high-pitched giggling. From somewhere nearby, Étan spoke.

  I crossed to a bedroom window and flattened myself against the wall. Night had fallen, turning the garden into something dark, sensuous. Orange and red lights illuminated the fountains, changing them into fantastic liquid bonfires. Old-fashioned metal torches lit the garden paths and cast a flickering light on the thralls gyrating in cages.

  A vampire in a slinky red dress had a male thrall pressed up against a honeysuckle-draped gazebo, his eyes glazed with pleasure as she drank from him. Two male vampires, a mated pair from the look of it, were deep in conversation on a nearby bench, shoulders touching, fingers intertwined. A giggling thrall darted around the side of a fountain, her vampire lover prowling behind.

  Étan appeared on a path near the tower, a curvy redheaded thral
l clinging to his bicep. My hand went to my back pocket. But I’d had to leave my blades at the rented house.

  His hand closed on the thrall’s breast. He tweaked her nipple and she gave a that-hurts-so-good squeal.

  My teeth clenched so hard I was surprised they didn’t crack.

  How could Zoe even consider mating with that bastard? He couldn’t even bother to pretend for one night that she meant anything to him other than a means to an end.

  I left the window to prowl around the suite.

  I needed blood. Fresh blood. The blood-wine simply wasn’t cutting it.

  And downstairs were all those willing thralls. Maybe my glamour would last long enough to coax Silver Rose into a shadowed corner?

  My ability to disguise my appearance was unique among my brothers. Most dhampirs could only conjure a weak glamour, but I could change myself into almost anyone. If I wanted, for instance, I could look just like Étan. Unfortunately, as soon as I spoke, the game would be up, because although my French was good enough, I could never imitate his working man’s accent.

  But I was tired, and it wasn’t worth the risk. I got another bottle from the refrigerator and continued my search for Zoe’s laptop. I opened drawers and rifled through her closet. I even lifted the black-and-white photos in the living room to see if they concealed a safe. But if she’d brought a laptop to Midnight Island, it was either locked away somewhere I hadn’t thought of or it wasn’t in her suite.

  I shrugged out of my jacket and sank onto the couch, staring into the dark red wine as if it held the key to Zaq’s disappearance. After a while, I took another sip.

  It was a very good wine. I drank some more, gradually slipping lower until my head rested on the couch’s arm. I undid my bowtie and tossed it on my jacket. Swung my feet off the floor and onto the couch.

  Vampires and dhampirs don’t get drunk easily, but I’d had a lot of wine in a short time. I was a little buzzed when I heard someone fumbling with the door to Zoe’s suite.

  I jolted upright and reached for my switchblade until I remembered the “no weapons” policy.

  Hell.

  The blood-wine was still working its way through my body to replenish my magic. I felt better, but I didn’t dare risk going into the shadows yet.

  So I grabbed the empty wine bottle and pressed myself against the wall next to the door.

  11

  ZOE

  The Crimson Ball was in full swing, the band playing a hundred-year-old French tune, the singer channeling her inner Edith Piaf. Victorine loved prewar French jazz.

  To my nocturnal eyes, the candlelit room was bright and beautiful, even in my shaky emotional state. The lush reds against the black-and-white backdrop. The sensuous music and the warm lighting. The vampires lean and gorgeous, the thralls cover-model material.

  Our kind didn’t tolerate flaws.

  Étan took my hand. “Come. Let’s dance.”

  I danced with him a second time. I even let him pull me close. I couldn’t let him see the panic pricking me like a thousand tiny needles.

  I can’t do this.

  Not when my head was full of Rafe. His scent, his touch. That sexy, damn-your-eyes smile.

  After Étan, I danced with a steady stream of vampire suitors, enforcers and soldiers who saw me as their ticket up the hierarchy.

  Étan left the ballroom for a few minutes, but he soon returned. He lounged against a wall, watching me. Not even pretending to dance.

  His she’s-mine attitude spread through the ballroom until the line of men asking me to dance dwindled to nothing, leaving me standing near the wall by myself.

  I snagged a blood-wine and sipped it. Angry and chilled, but not knowing how to stop him.

  Fortunately, not even Étan could scare off Prince Brien. His father was Primus of the Maritime Syndicate on Canada’s east coast, and his parents were partners with Victorine in a couple of joint ventures, which made him the closest thing to a friend I had.

  I’d been wary of Brien when we’d first met as kids. The little Maritime Prince was too good to be true, with perfect manners and a sharp intelligence. The kind of boy your mother urged you to play with, hoping some of his stardust would rub off on you.

  What Victorine didn’t know was that the perfect prince had a devilish side. I’d been right to be wary of him, but he never turned that sharp wit against me. Instead, I became his partner in the small crimes we managed to get past our parents, like sneaking blood-wine from his father’s cellar or slipping away from our bodyguards for an entire half hour.

  “Want to dance?” The prince flashed his megawatt smile and held out a hand.

  “Brien!” I grabbed onto him like a drowning woman going down for the last time.

  The band launched into an energetic salsa. Our feet moved automatically through the steps. Like most vampire spawn, we’d had years of dance lessons.

  Brien gazed down at me, a smile playing on his lips. He was stunning, with dark blond hair, smoky green eyes, perfectly symmetrical features (of course), and a cute cleft in his square jaw. I was aware of envious looks from most of the other unmated vampires in the room, female and male.

  “Let’s get the crap out of the way, okay? I’m not looking for a mate. You’re a beautiful woman, but I’m having way too much fun to settle down.”

  My tension uncoiled a few notches. “No offense, but you’re too high maintenance for me.”

  He gave a shout of laughter. More heads turned in our direction.

  I didn’t have to look at Étan to know he was frowning.

  I raised my chin and moved closer to Brien. “But if you change your mind…” I toyed with the hair on his nape.

  His smoky eyes rounded like a deer caught in the headlights. “You’re messing with me, right? Because you and me? It would be like doing my own sister.”

  “Ew.” I wrinkled my nose. “Thanks for the visual. But don’t worry, I’m messing with Étan, not you.”

  Brien’s brow creased. “He’s the frontrunner, then.”

  “Afraid so.”

  “What in Hades did Victorine bribe you with to get you to agree?”

  I moved a shoulder. “Guess.”

  “She won’t appoint you lieutenant unless you choose someone.”

  I nodded.

  “And you’re going to let her get away with it?”

  I expelled a breath. “It’s complicated.”

  “With her, it’s always complicated.” He sucked in a breath and pulled back his shoulders like a man preparing to charge into a burning building. “Forget what I said. Mate with me, Z. We like each other. We’ll make it work.”

  “Damn it, Bri.” Hot tears pricked the back of my eyes. I swallowed them down and pressed my lips together to keep myself from accepting. “I appreciate the offer—so much—but I can’t do that to you.”

  He scowled. “Why not? There’s no one else, is there?”

  I met his eyes without speaking. He hadn’t been in Montreal two summers ago, but he knew Rafe, and I’d given him an edited version of what had happened.

  “Zoe. Not a dhampir. I mean, I’m not prejudiced, but your mother will go ballistic.”

  “Not here,” I hissed. We’d conducted the entire conversation in low, barely audible voices, but the ballroom was packed.

  He shrugged and steered me into a showy turn. For a few minutes, we danced in silence.

  “It’s not just that,” I said after a while. “You deserve to find your true mate. The person who is your other half.”

  “Or I may never find them.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “The offer stands. Anytime. Call me, and I’ll be here.”

  This time a tear escaped. I wiped it away with a finger and muttered a gruff thanks.

  The band cued up another prewar French song.

  Enough. I pulled Brien across the floor toward them. Because it was my birthday, and I was tired of Edith Piaf.

  I lifted a finger, caught the singer’s eye. She nodded and segued into Ariana Gran
de’s “Into You.”

  The younger thralls perked up. A few of the older vampires stood back and watched with hooded eyes, but most went with the flow. When you’d already lived the equivalent of two or three human lifespans, change was a given.

  Brien and I started dancing again, not touching this time, just moving to the music. The singer dropped her voice, and one of those eerie hushes fell on the crowd.

  Got everyone watchin' us

  So baby, let's keep it secret

  A little bit scandalous

  She could’ve been singing about me and Rafe. Yearning curled through me.

  Brien’s brow creased. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” I shook my head and kept dancing.

  Two servers appeared with a giant gold platter holding my birthday “cake,” a tower of chocolate truffles. Three kinds—white, dark and salted caramel—were arranged in spirals and topped with a big red bow.

  They set the platter on a small table. Victorine raised her hand and the music stopped.

  My stomach clenched.

  Brien grinned and urged me forward. “Your birthday chocolate’s here.”

  The servers started lighting the twenty-seven tiny votives encircling the tray.

  Victorine smiled at me. A warmer smile than she usually gave me. A real smile.

  I can’t do this.

  She beckoned to Étan, who moved up beside her. The two of them shared a look. Suddenly, I knew. They were going to trap me into accepting him as my mate.

  Suddenly, the music seemed too loud. I drew a calming breath.

  Victorine loved me. I knew that. But her kind of love required me to remain her obedient spawn. Not a person in my own right, a person with my own needs and wants.

  She’d made up her mind, and nothing would change it. I was trapped.

  I can’t do this.

  I edged backward toward the door nearest my tower.

  “Zoe?” Brien said.

  I took his arm. “Cover for me,” I whispered. “I need ten minutes. Fifteen minutes, tops. Tell them…my heel broke off.” I dragged off my shoe and waved it at my mother. “Be right back,” I mouthed.