“That it is.”
“There’s also the matter of your birth.”
I frown. What would he know about my birth? “Excuse me?”
“Your birthright. Your family name. If you know my brother, as you claim to know me, you would also know that I am a prince. But not just any prince—I am heir to the throne. You are in the presence of great royalty and an exquisite bloodline. You should be honored.”
I laugh sardonically. Is this guy for real? Did Stavros’s hot tub time machine turn Dorian into the ultimate arrogant jackass? Or was this asshole lying dormant within him all along?
“Pity all your greatness is being wasted on such a worthless peasant,” I reply, smiling sweetly.
Dorian does the weird twitchy thing with his shoulder again. “I’ve endured worse. Besides, I plan to do worse when I get out of here.” There’s promise in his words, not a threat.
“Your brother is doing this for your own good. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He wants to keep you safe,” I insist.
“My brother? Ha!” he snorts, nostrils flaring. “Fuck my brother. He’s no blood of mine. Would a brother allow this?” He tries to struggle against the invisible rope, yet doesn’t move.
“Dorian, please. It’s not what you think—”
“I told you, girl. I am a prince. You will address me as such,” he sneers, those ice-blue eyes turning eerily pale. “You know nothing of my brother. You think he cares for you? For anyone other than himself? How considerate could he be if he left you here, alone with a monster? A poor, defenseless little girl, trapped here with the epitome of evil?”
I feel something snap within me before a sizzle settles in my veins. It’s as if the magic inside me is a glow stick, and once you add a bit of pressure, causing it to crack, it comes alive.
I look at the stranger on the bed, seeing a ghost of someone I used to know. “No one said I was a poor, defenseless little girl.” My voice is cold and vacant, devoid of anything I may have ever felt for him.
“Is that right? Well, then, prove me wrong.”
I step in closer, bending forward so he can see the fire kindling behind my icy demeanor. I know I’m poking a sleeping bear, but I don’t care. He wants to see who I am—he wants to know what I’m capable of. Now’s his chance. “I could hurt you. I could reduce you to nothing but a pile of ash with a snap of my fingers. I could make you wish you had never seen my face.”
A slow smile drags across his face and ire sparks inside those pale blue eyes. “But you won’t. Because you’re in love with me. And I’m here, bound like a prisoner, because my brother thinks he is in love with you.”
“What?” I snap to an upright position and flit across the room, fast enough for the secret of my abilities to be revealed. His smile draws tighter—satisfied with himself.
“Ah. I see I’ve struck a nerve. I’m right, aren’t I? You love me. I can smell it on you, stinking of false hope and desperation. I affect you. Even though I’ve been vile to you, I can still taste your arousal.” He inhales then licks his chops, a low hum rumbling his throat. “Mmmm. Tastes sweet. The scent of your sex is on this bed. I’ve fucked you on these very sheets, haven’t I?”
Stunned, I say nothing. I can’t dispute his claim when I know every single word is true. But it was Dorian I had made love to. Not this imposter.
“Tell me, Gabriella…how many times did I make you come the last time I was inside you? Did you scream my name? Did you dig your fingernails into my back? Do you like me to take you from behind and fuck you hard like a wild animal?”
“Stop. It.”
“And when I fucked you so thoroughly, so completely, did you imagine it was my brother sliding inside you? Did you wonder if he was listening to you moan from outside the door? Did you crave his taste on your tongue, his seed spilling inside your mouth? You did, didn’t you? You claim to love me, yet it was my younger brother you imagined between your legs.”
“I said, stop it!” Every light in the room flickers and sizzles. I’m panting like I’ve just run a marathon, adrenaline spiking through my veins. The look of pure madness in my eyes only prompts Dorian to smile once more.
“Hmph. I was only joking. But considering your reaction, I’d say I’m not too far off. Dangerous little game you’re playing, pet.”
Dangerous indeed. I purse my lips and turn away, refusing to let him see my guilt and shame.
“I don’t love you, by the way,” he adds, not a hint of remorse in his voice. “I never will either.”
“I know,” I whisper in response. Now, more than ever, I’m glad Stavros broke the link. If he hadn’t, I would have been dead the moment he woke up. Still, I feel like I’m dying right now, right here in front of him as he mocks my weakness for him. For this monster.
“And whatever you may think you know about me—whatever you have in that head of yours that paints me as a perfect gentleman—is a lie. I’m not your knight in shining armor. I’m not your Prince Charming. And I never will be.”
I close my eyes to keep my emotions in check as I utter my next words through trembling lips. “I know.”
The walls are closing in on me, and I can’t escape the bedroom and my truth fast enough. I hear Dorian laugh as I race out the exit and slam the door behind me. Then I crumple to the ground, screaming and writhing as unspeakable pain crawls up my back.
I’M AWAKE, YET I don’t want to be. So, I keep my eyes shut tight, too afraid of what will be carved into my back. Plus someone is stroking my head gently…lovingly, and I’m afraid that once I peel open my eyelids, this calming gesture that I have no right to enjoy will cease.
“Come on, baby girl,” Niko whispers as his fingers rake through my hair. “I’m here. It’s ok. I’m here now.”
Niko.
God, why did Dorian have to say that? Why did he have to fill my head with thoughts that I shouldn’t be thinking? Thoughts that would seriously keep me up at night, wondering if his words could be true. That Niko could actually be in love with me.
I open my eyes slowly, letting his gorgeous face come into view. Even with a few days of stubble, he’s still one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen. Dark hair falls into his crystal blue eyes, only increasing that raw sex appeal that seems to ooze from his pores. His shoulders fall as if his body has just released two tons of worry.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Nice of you to join us,” he smiles. And it’s not one of those forced smiles either. It’s an honest-to-goodness, I’m-so-glad-that-you’re-here…with-me smile. The kind that makes his eyes sparkle as if they’ve been replaced by diamonds.
I slide into a sitting position, taking in my surroundings. I’m in a huge room, much bigger than the white room Dorian and I have—had—been staying in. The décor and upholstery is decked out in deep, dark red and black, and there’s more artwork, including many intricate portraits of a girl. Curly, dark brown hair, slender nose and full, pouty mouth. The evidence of a complex mix of heritages is etched in her fair coloring with just a hint of caramel, highlighted by high cheekbones and a shapely figure.
The way she’s displayed in the portraits exudes so much life, so much love. She’s smiling, laughing, looking at someone with a bit of playful mischief. In one, she’s completely naked, lying on her side, her eyes hooded and hungry, and a satisfied grin on her lips. I quickly turn away from that one.
She’s beautiful, exotic, and something about her reminds me of…well, me. I know who she is, but I look to Niko and ask him anyway.
“Amelie?”
He nods just once. “I’d like to think so. At least that’s how I saw her when I painted them.”
“You did these?”
Just one side of his mouth turns up. “Had a lot of time on my hands.” He grabs a mirror from the bedside and hands it to me. “Here. Let me help you.”
I can tell talking about his lost love still hurts him so I allow him to help me roll onto my stomach and lift up my shirt, even though it’s completely unnecessary. “How am
I supposed to see it like this?” I ask, turning back to narrow my eyes at him. He points to the ceiling.
Ah, yes. Of course, there’s a huge mirror on the top of the canopy.
Niko positions the smaller mirror so I can see the reflection of the larger one. It’s several feet away, but my eyes can see it as if it were right in front of me.
“What is it?” I cringe, taking in the symbol opposite of the Human/Polemos one. It looks like the letter V, but with its curled ends, it’s unlike any I’ve seen.
“It’s our mark for Vampire. You saved my life, and as a result, you have been cursed to bear this atrocity. For that, I am both grateful and sorry.” There’s pain in his voice. Regret. “Baby girl, I wish I could take it away. I would do anything just to—”
I roll back over, pulling my shirt down. “It’s ok. I’m ok, Niko. You would have done the same for me, and have saved my ass plenty of times. Don’t stress. I’m fine.”
He exhales, and I imagine that he’s just let go of a tiny bit of guilt. That’s when mine finally decides to kick in.
“How’s Dorian? Did we learn anything on how to reverse the spell?”
Niko settles onto the bed beside me, and while his expression is grim, there’s something hopeful in his eyes. “Alex and I were able to tighten the wards and his restraints. Hopefully, it’s enough to hold him until we can figure out how to transport him. Because if I know my brother—and I once thought I did—I know that Aurora isn’t too far away.”
“Aurora?” Ugh. Why won’t that snotty-ass slore just find a dark hole and throw herself down it already?
“Yeah. He’s summoned her. Their physical bond is still intact, and she comes crawling whenever he calls. Those two…it’s insane. They feed off each other like a flesh-eating bacteria or cannibals. Sick, I tell you.”
A deep ache tightens my chest, and I gasp for breath. Niko picks up on the pained grimace on my face, and steels me with a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, baby girl. It’s not like that. He doesn’t love her. Shit, part of me thinks he doesn’t even like her. I mean, how could he?”
“Well, he liked her enough to sleep with her.”
Niko shrugs. “And? It’s not like that for us. We fuck what feels good. You know that.”
I raise a brow, challenging his shallow excuse. “Is that what Amelie was for you? Something that felt good?”
His eyes instantly pale at the mention of her name, frost forming at the rims of his eyes. A low snarl slips between his tight lips. “Careful. You of all people should know that some things are sacred.”
“Ditto.”
He nods, looking away. “Look, I need to go into the city. Talk to someone that may know what we need to reverse the spell.”
Before he can even finish his sentence, I’m on my feet. “Just give me a second to grab my shoes.”
“You’re not coming. You have to know that I wouldn’t let you come, right?”
“Why not?” I ask, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
Niko mimics my action, but there’s an amused smirk on his lips. “Because where I’m going, people like you and me aren’t welcome.”
“Then why do you get to go?” If he thinks I’m going to back down, then he’s sadly mistaken.
“Because they know me. They don’t know you. And you’d scare the living shit out of them. Or excite them.” The prospect of the latter clearly entertains him.
“But they can’t detect me, Niko. Just tell them I’m with you or, shit, tell them I’m human and you plan to erase my thoughts. I don’t care what you say. Just know that I’m going, and if you try to leave me, I’ll do my freaky freezey thing, and shut you down before you can get two steps outside that bedroom door. And if you try to disappear, I’ll try to follow you, and you know that’ll just be more trouble on your hands.”
Niko rubs the smattering of black hair on his chin, contemplating my threats. Oddly enough, he doesn’t seem angry at my bratty behavior. He’s almost sorta…impressed. “You could get someone killed. Then there would be even more blood on your hands. Could you actually live with yourself after something like that?”
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” I nod, stepping forward to stand before him. “Niko, I’ve been powerless for so long, relying on others to save me. I’m so sick of being a bystander. Please. Let me into your world. This is where I belong.”
He huffs out faux aggravation and tips his head to one side. “Fine. But if you’re sure about this, you’ll need to be prepared.” He steps forward, placing his hands on my shoulders. “You want into my world? Just know that you can never turn back. At least not alive.”
THE STENCH OF piss and vomit cling to my skin and hair as if bile is permanently embedded in the pavement. I feel it all over me, covering me like a hot, sticky film, making it impossible to escape. Breathing through my mouth is just as bad—you can taste the rancid flavor of hundreds of corroded livers and excrement. However, breathing through my nose is out of the question with my super sense of smell. I’d rather stick my head inside a toilet bowl at The Cat’s Meow.
This is not what I had pictured of New Orleans. Sure, there’re plenty of partygoers staggering up and down Bourbon Street, but knowing that their lives could be reduced to nothing more than zombie-like cattle…it just doesn’t seem fun to me.
“Keep your head down,” Niko mutters under his breath, a cap pulled over his brow. He’s dressed in black from head to toe, complete with a leather jacket and combat boots. He’s even made me do the same, insisting I tie my hair back in an inconspicuous ponytail before shoving a hat on my head. We parked a few blocks down on Canal, opting for one of his less flashy cars—a black BMW 750Li.
“What’s with the disguises,” I whisper, as we weave through the drunken crowd.
“Look around you. This city is teeming with darkness, especially Oinos. I used to control this territory. I don’t anymore.”
Panic sets in, causing me to nearly stumble over my tennis-shoed feet. Oinos are around? I mean, I’m not surprised, judging by all the hot messes spewing their guts between flashing their boobs for beads. But it’s still pretty daunting to know that we’re surrounded by Dark.
“Don’t be afraid,” Niko murmurs, reading my thoughts. “They may have jurisdiction now, but this is my city.”
Without another word, I follow him into a filthy, narrow alley. It’s the kind they warn you to stay far away from when college campus safety officials give you a rape whistle. I keep my hands stuffed into my pockets, careful not to brush up against anything. I’d very much like to make it out of here Hepatitis-free.
We stop at a tiny, wooden door that I wouldn’t have noticed had it not been for Niko. He knocks twice, then three times in fast succession. Then he ends the ritual with two more. Moments later, a portly woman draped in a robe and scarves opens the door. She wears a colorful wrap on her head, and her brown skin is etched with wrinkles.
“I’ve been expecting you,” she says to Niko, without a hint of alarm. Not even bothering to look in my direction, she asks, “Who is the girl?”
“She’s with me.” The authority in his voice is unmistakable.
“Hmmm. She’s with you, but she isn’t yours.” The woman steps aside and holds open the door so we can pass. The moment I hit the doorjamb, a rush of energy falls over me, crawling all over my skin like fleas. I shudder, brushing the phantom infestation from my body, but of course, there’s nothing there. The woman makes a tsking sound.
“Seems there’s more to this one than meets the eye.” She searches my face, dissecting every feature her gaze can touch. “Remove your glasses, girl. No sun hangs in the sky.”
I do as she says, grateful that Niko spelled my eyes to their original state—hazel-brown. The woman snorts, clearly disappointed.
“Let’s get on with this, Claudine,” Niko says, feigning boredom. “I don’t have all night.”
Claudine tears her eyes away from mine and nods at the perturbed Warlock inside the pitch-black hallway. “
Very well. She may pass.”
I force myself forward and the moment I do, I see that the hallway isn’t dark at all. It’s not even a hallway. It’s what looks to be a shop of some sort, with various trinkets and books on shelves. There are also baskets of tiny satchels on a countertop, all in different colors. The smell of incense and…something else…in the air isn’t unpleasant, yet makes it hard to breathe. Every lungful I take, I feel a bit…off. Subdued. Not like I’ve just hit a joint or something. It’s more like a tranquilizing effect.
“What is this place?” I ask, as Claudine leads us to another room that houses only a small, round table and chairs.
“Haven’t you ever been to a Voodoo shop, girl?” She has an accent unlike any I’ve ever heard. Syllables are exaggerated and consonants are skipped over completely.
I shake my head and she shrugs with disinterest. “Well, have a seat so we can get started. What brings you to my door, Nikolai?”
Niko slides into a rickety, wooden chair and steeples his fingers in front of his mouth. “What do you know about reversals?”
Claudine’s drawn-on brows reach for her head wrap. “Reversals? I believe that’s your territory, Warlock.”
He shakes his head. “I need information on more complex spells. Not one that reverses memories. I need one that can reverse time.”
Claudine laughs, the raspy, harsh sound bounding off the walls of the small room. “You insane? My people do not know of such things. We do not hold that type of magic.”
“Ask the spirits. Your ancestors—the old ones—they may know. They will have memories of how it was before. Ask them, Claudine. It’s a matter of life and death.”
The old woman leans back in her chair, regarding Niko with an almost admiring stare. As if she may even care for him. “You serious?”
Niko’s face softens for a split second, just fast enough for her to see his sincerity. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
“Ok.” She turns to me, spreading her palms onto the table. “Stay or leave, girl. But decide now. Once I begin, you won’t get to change your mind.”