by Renee Rose
Something about her is familiar. She raises her head and shoots a glare into every corner of the theater, and the memory is lost. My body responds, blood rushing to my groin. What would it be like to own such a creature? To tame and master her?
I school my expression into one of boredom. The she-wolf tempts me, that’s all. Something new and amusing to divert my attention for a time. Immortality reduces everything—pleasure and pain—into a temporary diversion. But this she-wolf might make me forget that for a little while.
On top of that, she looks like someone I once knew...
On stage, she licks her painted lips. My slacks grow tighter and my hands knot into fists. My bidding number rests on the floor next to my shoe. Dante must have left it there.
I won’t bid tonight. But it is so tempting.
In the row in front of me, Theophilus clears his throat. “See what I mean, Sire?”
“Yes.” I lean forward to study the she-wolf again. “I do.”
Selene
“Five hunret, five hunret, can I get five hunret—” the auctioneer bleats as the auction runs out of steam. He pauses and scratches his chin. “No? Perhaps you need more incentive.”
He waves to someone offstage and three beefy stagehands march straight towards me.
“What?” I mouth to the auctioneer, but he props elbow on the podium, settling in to watch. The first man reaches me and tugs at my dress’ strap.
“Time to get naked, sweetheart.”
My hand flies up before I can stop it. I push Mouthbreather Number One away from me as his two buddies arrive and clamp down on my arms, right on top of the bruises Xavier left.
“Bitch,” Number One mutters. His beefy hand grabs the straps crossing over my back and tears them away. The garment sags, baring my breasts right as I get one arm free. My training kicks in. I lean left and kick the man on my right in the crotch. He goes down and I jerk, bringing the man on my left off balance. I smash my fist into his face and flip him over my back. He crashes into Number One. I crouch in a fighter’s stance in the center of three downed thugs.
The auctioneer is laughing.
“Ladies and gentlemen, can I get a round of applause for lot nine?” A smattering of golf claps fills the theater. My cheeks heat. I didn’t defend myself as part of some fucking act.
Except it was. Around me, the thugs stir and get to their feet. The auctioneer waves them off and they slouch away.
“Show’s over, folks,” the auctioneer announces. “Who wants to go home with her tonight? Bidding starts at five hundred thousand.”
My dress tangles around my hips. I shove it off and kick it away.
“We’ve got a live one! Feisty. Will you be enough to master her? Five hundred and you’ll find out.”
Lucius
The she-wolf stands naked on stage, her chest heaving. Gone is any semblance of meek servitude. A lock of hair falls out of her braid and she tucks it impatiently away, glaring at everything and nothing.
She is magnificent. If I owned her, the fun I would have while we fought each other for dominance every night.
I’m not the only one who thinks this.
“Damn,” Theophilus breathes. The next time the auctioneer calls for a bid, he raises his paddle. I bite back a snarl.
“Theophilus,” I snap, putting enough compulsion in my voice to make his head snap around. I hold up my hand, palm up. “Give it to me.”
He obeys, but all around me, vampires are bidding for the she-wolf. She stands in a pool of light, not even trying to hide her disgust. What made her agree to be auctioned? She’s doesn’t seem the type.
I beckon to Theophilus. “These shifters. If someone bids on them, do they get a portion of the money?”
Understanding lights his eyes. “No. They’ll become your property. They don’t come with anything. But their family might be compensated.”
That matched the information I was given about the shifter slavers. These men, typically rogue shifters, found hidden shifter clans and offered money for the most submissive in the pack. Threats were also most likely involved. Would this she-wolf allow herself to be a part of such a bargain? Perhaps she agreed if the money went to her family.
I sit back as the bids rage around me. A mystery. I’m becoming more intrigued by the second.
“One million,” someone calls a bid. I turn and look across the aisle. A large vampire wearing an eyepatch looks back at me. Only a lifetime of controlling my emotions keeps me from showing my surprise.
Xavier. What’s he doing here? Our paths haven’t crossed for decades. Maybe a century. He inclines his head in mocking acknowledgement. The last time we met, we were enemies.
There’s quiet as the auctioneer and audience absorb his bid. Onstage, the she-wolf trembles as if she remembers why she’s here.
And I remember who the wolf reminds me of. Her face becomes another, a waifish imp with a cloud of white gold hair. My first vampire lover. The only woman, perhaps, I ever loved. Georgianna.
Xavier’s fangs glint at me from across the aisle. He never forgave me for taking Georgianna from him, and now he would snatch this wolf right from under my nose.
This one’s mine, his gloating face seems to say. Poor she-wolf. Xavier always broke his toys. If not for fun, then to prevent anyone else from enjoying them.
My fingers clench on the bidding paddle. This whole auction, Xavier’s appearance, the she-wolf who looks like Georgianna’s ghost come to life—it’s a ploy. A set up. It has to be. It’s too convenient.
Somebody’s up to something. If my sired have thrown their lots in with Xavier, then they have rebelled past the point of forgiveness. Their lives are over.
But if all of this is Xavier acting alone, then it might be interesting to play the game. Save the she-wolf. Parade her before my court, and draw Xavier into my net.
What is the saying? Keep your friends close… and your enemies closer.
Oh yes. These next few weeks will be very entertaining. I lean back in my seat and raise my paddle.
Selene
“One million.”
Blood rushes to my head. That was Xavier’s voice. He’s bidding on me? Why?
I clench my hands in front of me, controlling my shudder. Have I failed? I can’t fail. There’s nothing left for me but the road ahead. The mission to entice Frangelico.
The silence stretches on and my nerves are screaming. Xavier doesn’t like failure. That’s a lesson I’ve learned over and over again. Pain is a great teacher. I’m strong enough to withstand it, but if I fail at this, I don’t know—
A deep voice breaks the stillness. “Ten million.”
A hush falls over the entire theater, every creature, me included, holding our breath.
The auctioneer looks like he can’t believe his luck. “T-ten million.” He mops his forehead and glances around the theater, biting his lip. I wait for him to raise the bid, but the staggering jump from one to ten million left him tongue-tied.
He raps his gavel and shouts. “Sold! To the gentleman with the deepest pockets. Vampire King Lucius Frangelico.”
My ears ring. I stoop and gather up the pieces of the ripped dress. It worked. It worked! He bought me.
In a few minutes I’ll be in the clutches of my new vampire master. Everything is going as planned.
The curtain sweeps across the stage, and I’m left blinking in the dark.
The auctioneer announces something about a break and walks off stage. Once he’s in the wings, he beckons me to follow.
“Good girl.” He rubs his hands together, probably imagining holding ten million dollars in his fat grubby fingers. I close my eyes, dizzy. What sort of vampire pays ten million for a wolf pet? What will he do with me?
It doesn’t matter. It will all be over soon. Any bit of unpleasantness in the meantime, well, I’ve been trained to take a lot of pain.
Four guards march up and surround me. They don’t touch me, so I don’t make a fuss. Beyond them, the thugs who manhandl
ed me lurk in the murky shadows. One has an ice pack to his face. The one who’s crotch I hit is gone. The one left glowers at me, but doesn’t get close. They won’t dare touch me now. I belong to the Vampire King. The thought hits me like a blow and makes me sway on my feet.
A young, slender man appears at my elbow. I turn and avert my eyes when I catch his scent. Not human. Vampire.
“His Majesty would like you to put this on.” The young man holds up a suit jacket for me to slip into. I hand off my ripped dress to a guard and let the oversized jacket envelop me. The sleeves hang over my wrists and cover my legs to mid thigh. I’ve worn dresses that are less modest. I wore one tonight.
“His Majesty will collect you soon. Do you need anything? Food, some water?”
Shoes would be nice, but I shake my head. I tuck my face into the collar of the jacket and inhale the subtle, expensive cologne clinging to the fabric. The cologne doesn’t hide the familiar cold stone scent. This jacket was recently worn by a vampire.
“This way.” The auctioneer leads us into the green room.
The youthful vampire wrinkles his nose. “Do you expect the king to come back here? It’s a dump.” When the auctioneer grovels and denies that he would ever wish the great Frangelico to sully his shoes by stepping into this room, the young vampire growls, “Then find us a better place to wait. This is the king’s property.” He waves a hand at me. “The respect you show her is the respect you show the king.”
That’s how we end up in another room, smelling of fresh paint and filled with new furniture. It’s upstairs. The young vampire fusses over me, finding me a bottle of water, and bemoaning my lack of shoes.
I tune everything out. Nothing matters until I meet Frangelico.
My new master.
No. He will never own me. He will think I belong to him. By the time he learns the truth, it will be too late.
I face the door and wait for the target to enter. Lucius Frangelico, the face that haunts me. The source of all my nightmares. The vampire who killed my pack, made me an orphan. If it wasn’t for Xavier, I’d be dead. I owe him everything. And the debt will never be repaid. Xavier gave me life, but he also gave me a reason to live. Years of training and planning, culminating in a single mission: revenge.
And now I’ve been sold to the Vampire King. I will infiltrate his private home, let him bring me to his sleeping lair. Earn his trust. Wait until the moment is right.
All my life I’ve been waiting for this. All my training, all my hard work for one goal.
I’m going to kill Lucius Frangelico.
Chapter 2
Lucius
The curtain falls and the house lights come up. I turn, but the aisle across from me is empty. Xavier is gone.
Pity. I would’ve liked to speak to him. We have a score to settle, going back hundreds of years. I doubt he’s forgotten. A vampire never forgets.
Xavier will come to me again. I can feel it. We’ve only made our first moves in our little game.
Theophilus surges to his feet.
“Amazing, Sire,” he gushes. “I have never seen anything like it.”
I hand him my paddle and murmur instructions to him on how to complete my purchase. I give him my financier’s card and send him off before signalling to my guards both seen and unseen. Four head to the stage to protect my recent purchase.
Vampires surround me, eager to congratulate me.
Dante appears at my elbow. “That was magnificent,” he breathes.
“Your selection is exemplary,” I say loud enough for all to hear. “You’re to be commended.”
Dante beams and I drop a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Get my purchase somewhere safe. See to her needs. When I come to collect her, there’d better not be a scratch on her, or whatever damage she sustains, I’ll inflict ten times that on everyone in this place.” I haven’t forgotten the little ploy with the three thugs. Three thugs on one woman. She protected herself, but from now on she shouldn’t have to. Keeping her safe is my responsibility and privilege.
Dante goes white. “Consider it done, Sire,” he bobs his head. I grip his arm before he can dash off. “Wait.” I shrug out of my suit jacket and hand it to him. “Put this on her.” My scent will be enough of a deterrent to anyone who wants to harm her. A temporary mark of ownership until I give her one more permanent.
The one bright spot in this murky mess: I own the she-wolf now. I can do whatever I want with her.
I can hardly wait.
Selene
The guards around me straighten a second before Frangelico walks in. He’s tall, much taller than I am. His dark hair brushes the top of the door jamb. He’s built like Xavier, but where my mentor’s features are harsh and brutal, the Vampire King’s are perfectly sculpted. I’ve seen sketches of him before from Xavier’s surveillance, but nothing takes the edge off meeting him in person. Such a beautiful package to hold so much evil.
His eyes are dark, the color of coffee. He’s swarthier than the drawings showed, his profile sharp and aquiline. His face belongs on a Roman coin, but more than that, his entire mein, look and build is that of an ancient king. For all we know, he was a king in his human days. An emperor. A conqueror.
My knees tremble, ready to kneel. I’m staring straight at him. He meets my gaze with a mocking quirk to his mouth.
Don’t look him in the eyes. A tiny voice in my head screams. Don’t ever look vampires in the eyes. With eye contact a vampire can control you. Of course, the older the vampire, the more powers they have. I bet Frangelico can control me with just a word.
I drop my gaze to his throat. His neck is large and masculine, framed by a white shirt collar. After you stake a vampire, you cut off its head and burn the remains, just to be safe. I’ve practiced countless times, first on dummies, then on real vampires--criminals Xavier caught and dragged to me for their death sentence. Staking and beheading and burning them was a rite of passage, meant to prepare me for this moment.
But now I’m here, faced with Frangelico, and all I can think is “it would be a shame to destroy someone so beautiful.”
I harden myself. This is the vampire who murdered my pack. Killed my entire family. Of course I’m going to kill him. In the end, it’s either him or me.
A chill grips me. I shiver, and huddle deeper in the suit jacket I’ve been given.
Frangelico turns and murmurs something to a guard, who breaks from the pack and heads to the wall. To the thermostat.
That’s when it hits me: Frangelico is in his shirt sleeves. I’m wearing his jacket. Breathing in his scent. I curl my bare toes into the carpet.
“Your Majesty, we are so honored you bid today.” The vampire host steps forward. “And so delighted you won. And such a perfect lot to bid on. She is a prize.”
Frangelico doesn’t spare him a glance. “Is my car ready?” he asks the head guard.
“Yes, sir.”
“You have use of this room as long as you like,” the vampire interjects. “It’s private. No one comes up here--”
“Leave us,” Frangelico says.
The fawning vampire and the bodyguards exit without another word.
The Vampire King crosses the room and seats himself. I’m standing halfway between him and the window, twisting my fingers together. I’ve been trained to fight. This...is something different. The rules have changed. For the foreseeable future, this vampire is my master. He will command me and I will obey. Not unlike my relationship with my mentor, except...Xavier never made me feel this way. My insides are too hot, my skin too cold.
Xavier looked at me as project, a weapon to hone. And I am lethal. My beauty is my best weapon, but tonight it's turned against me. The Vampire King looks at me as a woman. His dark gaze strips me to the bone. Beyond naked, beyond vulnerable. I feel small and exposed, and thrillingly, wildly alive.
The Vampire King’s beauty and appeal are his own weapons, and he deploys them well.
Frangelico raises a dark brow and goosebumps break out ov
er my skin. My breathes rattles out of me.
Frangelico cocks his head slightly. “Pet?” His index finger points to the floor.
Right. Right.
I take a few steps towards him and lower myself into a kneeling position. Legs apart, palms facing up on my thighs. The suit jacket pools around me. I bite my lip. Should I have taken off the jacket?
I blink at the carpet.
“That’s a good start,” Frangelico sounds amused. “Now come closer.”
I hesitate.
“You may rise. When you are in my home, you will crawl.”
I duck my head. Get to my feet and go to stand at the spot where he’s pointing. I keep my head down and resist the urge to fidget or shift.
Frangelico’s voice is deep, a rolling baritone soothing my frayed nerves. “What’s your name?”
“Selene.” My voice wobbles.
“Selene,” he repeats slowly, tasting every syllable. If he finds it strange that I don’t have a last name, he doesn’t mention it.
I suppress a shiver.
“A lovely name for a lovely pet. You may call me Sir.”
My mouth parts but no sound comes out.
“They said you were trained.”
It’s not a question but I answer anyway. “Yes sir.”
“Do you know this?” He signals, pointing two fingers to the floor in a V-shape.
In answer I rock my legs apart.
“Almost.” Amusement tinges his voice. “Chin and chest up. Lock your hands behind your head.”
I obey and the jacket falls open. My nipples are pointed straight at him.
“Cold, pet?”
