The room was much bigger than it appeared, but even then the man sitting in the middle of the sofa with a barely clad human sprawled over his lap seemed to take it all over. There was a small, sleek kitchen in the corner and a four-poster bed hidden slightly by a transparent curtain.
The presidential suite.
The king was smoothly shaven, wearing an ink-black suit and a black shirt unbuttoned, exposing his thick and muscled neck.
“Isla, what a pleasant surprise,” he greeted, voice smooth. It caressed me with its smoothness, so different than the throaty assault of Thorne’s.
I straightened, pushing the slayer from my mind. “Your Grace, the pleasure is all mine,” I said sweetly.
He quirked his brow at my greeting, knowing me well enough to understand that it was drenched in sarcasm.
“I wouldn’t think this would be an establishment you would frequent,” he continued. “Considering your… dietary habits.” His eyes twinkled and even though he kept his voice even and smooth, it was apparent that the king was teasing me.
Not such a stuffy monarch after all.
I sauntered into the room, his eyes traveling the length of me as I did so. I mentally congratulated myself for dressing for battle and fashion. My skintight black leather jeans and heeled Balenciaga boots hugged me in all the right places, as did my black bustier-style tank.
I was going for Kate Beckinsale in Underworld. Despite my hatred of pop culture movies that pretty much butchered our history and ancestors, I liked the costumes.
“Ditto,” I said while I sauntered in and poured myself a drink from the solid silver drink stand. The whiskey was the good stuff, in a crystal decanter much like my own. Everything in the room screamed money. From the sheepskin rugs to the marble floors. Fabian didn’t filch on décor to make the club look elegant, but even he wouldn’t spend this much dough. Not unless it served a purpose.
I met emerald eyes. “I don’t need the clichéd ‘come here often,’ because I’m guessing this”—I twirled my finger around the room—“is made and purposed especially for you.”
He followed me with his eyes while absently stroking the human who was sidled up to him. It was slightly disturbing the way he did it, the way humans would interact with an animal. Not enough brains to garner your complete attention but a kind of distracted attentiveness.
Though the woman wearing a backless red dress covered in sequins wasn’t doing much for intelligence; she was nuzzling his neck silently, much like a feline.
“It’s nice to get out and escape the bureaucrats every now and then.”
It was my turn to quirk my brow. “And you come here. And associate with that?” I nodded to her. “It just warms the cockles of my heart to see that you’re just like us commoners. A sucker for a pretty face, empty head and a willing vein.”
“It’s the empty-headed ones who cause the least amount of danger,” he said smoothly, his eyes moving over me pointedly. “They may not be as satisfying as the ones who promise chaos, but at least they don’t start riots in this very establishment over a human pop star, if I’m not mistaken?”
I grinned. I did do that. I just couldn’t stand vampires insulting my girl Britney.
I smiled. “Haven’t you heard? Chaos is the most utterly orgasmic thing on offer in the immortal world.” I trailed the tumbler from my lips down to my breasts, rolling it along the skin and reveling in the heat in the king’s gaze, the only thing on his impassive face giving away his reaction. “So the rumors are true, then?” I asked casually, moving my glass back up to my lips.
Rick’s gaze stayed at my chest for a split second before he met my eyes once more.
“You’ve fed her your blood.” I nodded to the girl. “And it has some kind of quality that makes it err not only on the blue side but on the hypnotic side. Here I was thinking that the fairytales about king’s blood being able to transmit the original Ichor from Artemis herself were all bullshit.”
His eyes went blank, his only reaction. “And what made you come to this conclusion? One that most vampires in society would dismiss as part of your insanity, and one which may provoke your timely death,” he added, his intent clear.
Don’t tell anyone, or not only will everyone think you’re even crazier but they’ll say that at your funeral.
I grinned and tapped my auburn head. “Not just a hat rack, Rick.”
A shadow of a grin tickled his mouth, though there was an edge that came with me pointing out my knowledge.
It had been a lucky guess, honestly. And I was more than a little blown away that such legends were true. If I were smart, I would’ve kept my questions to myself. But curiosity did kill the cat.
I was just hoping it didn’t kill the Isla.
“The experience of drinking from a human who has metabolized vampire blood is rather… unique,” he said after a long silence, his voice thick and rid of whatever kinglike detachment his death threat had reeked of. He tilted the girl’s neck so her blonde hair fell like a curtain over her face, revealing her porcelain and blemish-free neck.
I regarded that with surprise I didn’t betray. No fang marks. Yet the slight flush to his cheeks and raise in body temperature meant he’d fed recently.
Curious.
“Now that you’re working for me—” Rick continued.
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m working for me,” I corrected. “Your interests and my interests just happen to align, and now I have added incentive to ensure I hand you the culprits. I assume that your promise to wipe them off the face of this earth, regardless of their Vein Line, still stands?”
The more I’d thought on ways of making sure my family didn’t make bad on their promise regarding my Awakening, the more I realized handing them over to the king after I’d uncovered their treason was the best way to be rid of them. And to make sure I wasn’t strung up by the other ‘noble families’ and the connections my father had in the Sector if I did succeed on ending one or all of them.
The king would have no choice but to execute me under continued pressure from the prominent Vein Line and the Sector itself. Though vampire society wasn’t a democracy, it wasn’t a dictatorship either. If the king didn’t listen to such families and the Sector, he wouldn’t stay king for long. Which wouldn’t be good in the face of the rebellion that would gain more supporters.
He didn’t move from his position on the sofa, but his eyes hardened. “I’m a vampire of my word,” he answered. “What added incentive?” His voice had an edge to it. “Are you in trouble, Isla?”
I sipped my drink. “No more than usual. And any trouble I’m in is due to the little assignment I’m on from my king.”
He rose a brow. “The king you must serve,” he pointed out.
“Yes, apparently,” I agreed flippantly.
His eyes darkened. “Your utter loyalty does not go without reward.” His hand trailed down the flawless neck of the mute human. “Have you ever fed from a human who has metabolized vampire blood?” he asked, voice thick.
I watched him caress the female’s neck, felt the pulse of her heartbeat carry across the room, the scent of her blood something more than anything I’d experienced.
“Can’t say I have,” I answered, my own voice thick.
His eyes held mine. “Few without the purest concentration of Ichor in their blood have,” he told me. “It’s an experience unlike any other in the world. One I feel you have earned.”
I put down my tumbler, fangs already extended slightly as the chasm left unfilled by Tristan opened up once more. The aroma of blood in the air, mingled with the king’s own scent, promised something that might chase away whatever chill remained from the day’s events.
I moved closer, my eyes hooded. “I never say no to dessert,” I murmured, moving to sit on the other side of the human. She smiled up at me, her eyes swirling with euphoria. Mine touched the emerald oceans of the king’s, then focused on the pulsing vein below her chin.
Without another word, I sank my fang
s into the supple skin of her neck, ambrosia exploding on my tongue. Tristan’s blood was a two-dollar bottle of wine compared to the sweet priceless vintage I was treating myself to. I edged my body closer, and the feel of another being feeding as well gave me little room for pause.
Neither did the king’s grip on my arm, soft and erotic, mixing with the sensation unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Her blood was sweeter than any human’s, running through my system with a depth of warmth that could not be mortal.
Rick’s hand moved to my back, pressing into me so my body plastered against the woman’s as he fed on her wrist.
I was swallowed with the experience in itself, tumbling down the rabbit hole and flying at the same time.
As quickly as euphoria assaulted me with its magnificence, it was gone. The sluggish labor of her heartbeat signified the end to the experience. I longed to drain her dry, to hold onto this forever, but I found it in myself to stop. The king’s presence hinted at something else, something erotic that didn’t belong to him.
Thorne’s face assaulted my mind before I banished it to the corner.
I leaned back, my body singing with the blood and craving more at the same time. Every instinct I had was sharp, my senses picking up every aroma in the air. Rick’s enticing scent overwhelmed me, but didn’t drown out the cheap perfume of a ‘host’ down the hall, or the spilling of a sickly sweet cocktail as two vampires had a small disagreement over who got to taste a human first.
It was as if I’d been given the gift of laevisomnus, and the benefits that came with it, without the extended vulnerability.
Rick pushed the half-drained woman aside with little more than a flick of his wrist.
His hand remained at my back, eyes glued to mine. “Remarkable, isn’t it?” he asked, breaking through the bloodlust in the air.
I was consumed with his gaze for a moment. Then I darted up from the sofa, at the door in a second.
“Rather,” I agreed. “Better than the espresso I was considering to get me through this evening.”
He didn’t seem surprised by my sudden movement, his face a carefully schooled mask. Though his eyes glowed.
I stood at the doorway with Rick, my eyes refusing to leave his as the warmth of his blood and the human’s pulsed around my body, separate from myself altogether. The pulse traveled downwards and had me digging my nails into my palms to the point of pain not to jump him right then and there.
The cords of his neck moved fluidly as he swallowed, not out of necessity of course, but because he could taste it, my arousal. His eyes were almost black with his own.
I blinked and welcomed the familiar cold of anger mingling with the foreign blood. “Did you just try and date rape me with a tainted human?” I snapped in indignation.
His own eyes stayed dark but turned hard. “I would never take a woman, human or vampire, unwillingly to my bed,” he informed me, his voice liquid steel, stepping forward so our bodies touched.
Even though I didn’t breathe in, the scent of his own arousal clouded me, as did the pulse from his body.
“Your feelings aren’t from her blood. No vampire has had this reaction to mine. Even the few who have experienced it didn’t do this.” He tilted his head at me. “You’re different. Special.”
I flicked my hair in order to ward off the impact of that word and the power behind it as it settled under my skin. “Yes, I’m well aware. I’m one of a kind, which is why you have blackmailed me into some spy mission that’s quickly turning into a suicide mission. Trying to see if I’m still special from beyond the grave?”
His transition from seduction to king was quick even to my eyes. His body went rigid, eyes blank with the subtlest hint of malice. “Someone tried to kill you again today?” The blandness of his tone didn’t connect with the fire in his eyes. “This is becoming a habit.”
I crossed my arms. “Yes, a nasty one at that.”
He regarded me. “Death threats mean you’re getting somewhere. What do you have?”
I chewed on his question. “A vampire who may lead me to more information, and the knowledge that the rebellion isn’t exclusively vampire in nature. Though that was already apparent by werewolves working with the vampires who attacked the Majestic.” I paused, refusing to lower my eyes from his. “Which begs the question as to why you’ve got little old me involved instead of calling some supernatural UN conference. Or creating an elite task force with your new allies.”
I left out the part about the turned vampire. And the slayer who had managed to become embroiled in this whole disaster. And who would most likely be executed by the king the second he found out Thorne was involved. Hence my silence on the matter. Thorne’s death had the grave chill creeping up my spine once more, battling with the warmth of the blood I’d just consumed.
Rick’s eyes searched mine, as if he had the ability to taste my deceit. That he could reach into my mind and pluck my treasonous thoughts of slayers from the depths.
Such a quality didn’t exist, despite his funky blood, which was good considering that parlor trick would result in my head being separated from my shoulders.
“Even someone as narcissistic as yourself must know each species does not play well with others. Getting them together without starting another war proves difficult. It took everything not to turn the current alliance into a bloodbath and even now, politics takes too long to get things done,” he said tightly. “While they attempt to do the logical thing, I always do the illogical. It usually works out the best.”
I tilted my head. “I’m the illogical?”
He gave me a look.
“Yeah, okay, not a surprise. But I’m not going to be any use to you if you stand here trying to seduce me instead of letting me do what I came here to do.”
“And what was that?”
I forgot for a second, his voice liquid sex.
“I need information from a patron,” I said finally, after searching the reaches of my brain not held hostage by Thorne and Rick.
He stayed where he was for a sliver of a second before stepping back from the door silently.
I guessed kings didn’t say good-bye.
I grasped the handle before the sex voice returned, a chill at the nape of my neck with his presence.
“And this isn’t seduction, Isla. Seduction would result in you writhing naked underneath me while I take your pussy and your neck at the same time so much that you don’t even remember your own name.”
I gave myself a mental pat on the back for not even pausing as I opened the door and walked down the corridor at a measured pace.
Kings might not say good-bye but they definitely made you not want one.
“Are you sure you don’t know where Earnshaw is?” I asked the bleeding vampire pleasantly. “I was so certain you two are chums. Why, according to a source of the undead variety, you killed a preschooler together not one week ago.” My conversational tone succeeded in hiding my distaste.
It wouldn’t do well to show weakness, such as disgust for the murders of children in front of anyone. Most certainly not Glint.
He was the one I currently had tied to a chair in Fabian’s office, the copper wire bonds making steam erupt from the patches of skin it touched directly. It’d been ready and waiting for me in my purse, and stayed there while I’d breezed around the main room of Succor.
Most of the patrons gave me a wide berth and then a wider one once they knew I was looking for Glint. He and I weren’t exactly on all the best guest lists. Him because he was from a working-class Vein Line and his sadism was even blanched at by vampires; he didn’t have the aristocracy to fall back on. Me because I did have the aristocracy to fall back on but had a nasty reputation for not being sadistic enough. Kindred spirits we were. Or at least that’s what I’d convinced him of when I lead him into Fabian’s office with fluttered eyelids that promised sex. The fact that he came so readily and acted surprised when I snapped his neck and restrained him made me feel all warm and fuzzy. Earnsh
aw was yet to tell him I was public enemy number one.
Well, he’d already known that, of course. I’d have no doubt he’d have most likely tried to have his wicked way with me and then behead me afterwards. That was not happening.
I’d already chopped five of his fingers off and had to give it to the guy; he was yet to scream through them getting chopped off and growing back.
“Not a sound, eh?” I asked his marble expression. “All that baby blood make you a big bad vampire?”
I bent over so my breasts spilled into his vision, making quick work of his designer belt before freeing the hardening flesh from his pants.
It was good to know the girls still got a rise from the vampire I was currently torturing.
I palmed his unimpressive length, giving it an unenthusiastic look. “How about I start chopping things off that will prove much more difficult to regrow?” I offered, my voice a purr. The blade sliced at his base, a small bead of blood blossoming as his body stiffened.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “You’re a bitch.”
I tilted my head up at him. “That’s the best you can do? Well color me utterly disappointed.”
He sneered and I dug the blade in. He let out a muted grunt.
I smiled.
“Fuck,” he repeated. “He’ll kill me for telling you.”
“And I’ll kill you if you don’t. But not before I cut off your most unimpressive appendage and make you grow it back again and again until it bores me.” I gave him a look. “And when it comes to two of my favorite things, torture and” – I gave him a squeeze that emitted another pain filled grunt – “I rarely get bored.”
His gaze was saturated in hate. “He will kill you.”
I put my hand to my chest, still holding the blade. “So you haven’t told me because you’re worried? Aren’t you just the sweetest psychopath that I ever did torture? Don’t worry, chum, I can take care of myself. Especially with someone as pathetic as Earnshaw.”