by Kyle, Celia
What the hell had he been thinking to start searching for a new mate? It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but as his stomach churned with each new introduction, regret sapped what little energy he possessed.
And this was just the beginning. Being the first party of a long line planned to narrow down Orrin’s choices, Thayne had cast a wide net for the guest list. Pretty much any and every upper-class vampiress within the Othercross limits had been invited, and he’d only met about half of them so far. It felt like he’d shaken the hands of hundreds, and not a single one had tempted him. All were perfectly suitable, but none were the least bit interesting.
An orchestra played discreetly in the ballroom, the sound of hundreds of voices nearly drowning them out. It was the party of the year, at least in bloodsucking circles. And the end of the receiving line didn’t seem to be growing any closer. He sighed heavily as another would-be mate beamed over her shoulder at him as she wandered into the party.
“Master Nicolaides!”
He turned to a grinning man he should have known but whose name he couldn’t remember.
“Good evening,” Orrin said smoothly, extending his hand.
When the man took it, he frowned slightly. Maybe he sensed Orrin’s weakened state. Then he let his gaze flick down Orrin’s frame.
Orrin knew he’d lost weight over the last couple of weeks. Not surprising since he hadn’t been able to feed much. Sure, he’d forced down a few of Thayne’s cocktails, but not even fresh blood appealed to him. Now he paid the price.
Clothes that once showed off his impressive physique hung like rags on him. Thayne had to have the tailor take in Orrin’s tux three times in the last week, and it was still a little baggy.
“You look, uh, wonderful,” the man stammered just a bit.
Liar. Just like everyone else who’d complimented him so far. He’d seen himself in the mirror, and sunken cheeks and nearly gray skin most certainly did not give the appearance of health.
“This is my daughter, Aurelia Bonafé.”
Right! Rodrigo Bonafé was a prominent member of a Portuguese clan. He pushed a skinny little vampiress almost into Orrin’s arms. Her dress was cut low and her bountiful bosom had been hiked up almost to her chin.
“A pleasure, Aurelia,” he said, taking her hand.
Instead of shaking like a normal person, she held it flat, backside up, begging for a kiss. Orrin sighed again and pressed her hand to his lips. She tasted nasty, and not in the good way.
With the difficulty he’d been having feeding lately, he had no desire to drink from someone who literally made his stomach churn, which was pretty much everyone these days.
Thayne had been on him about it, insisting he see a healer, but Orrin had refused. His stomach was just being particular. Besides, he was an immortal vampire. It wasn’t as if he’d starve to death.
What bothered him more was the lack of sleep. He’d spent days and nights wandering the darkened rooms of the mansion, afraid to close his eyes. His dreams had been plagued by Sara since their night together, and even when he wasn’t sleeping, she never left his thoughts.
Never.
Didn’t matter. Soon enough, he’d meet a suitable vampiress to take on as a partner and mother to his children, and Sara would be but a distant, pleasant memory. At the thought, his stomach grumbled. Aurelia Bonafé giggled at the sound, drawing his attention back to her.
“You must be hungry, Orrin,” she said, her voice heavy with innuendo. “I might be able to help with that.”
His response was to belch. Loudly. Aurelia gasped and appeared to be offended, but she really should have counted herself lucky he hadn’t vomited all over her mostly exposed cleavage. Somehow, he’d managed to choke down his bile, but barely.
As her father quickly ushered her away, Thayne stepped up to his side, concern in his dark eyes. “Are you feeling well, Master?”
Aiden must have overheard the comment with his super-sensitive shifter hearing because he hurried over to join them. “What’s wrong?”
Aiden and his pack had been hired as security for the event on the off chance something happened. Unlikely in such a large a gathering of vampires, but it paid to be cautious, especially when said vampires would be preoccupied with the festivities.
Orrin sighed again. “Nothing’s wrong and I’m fine.”
“No offense, boss,” Aiden said, giving him a once-over, “but you don’t look fine.”
To be honest, he didn’t feel fine at all, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to admit that. Not now.
“Sir,” Thayne murmured quietly so no guests overheard, “I must tell you again, in the strongest terms possible, that I believe you should be resting under the care of a healer right now, not partying.”
Orrin’s second was probably right, but whatever was bothering him would eventually pass. He’d be back to his normal hale self soon enough.
“You are aware you were the one who organized this little fête. Aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am aware, Master, but that was when you didn’t look like death warmed over.”
Aiden snorted. “Isn’t that the very definition of a vampire?”
Thayne shot him a dirty look and then turned back to Orrin. “Sir, we started this process when you were well and excited to find a new mate. Not to sound impertinent, but you’re not well. This party was a mistake.”
“Don’t worry so much, Thayne,” Orrin said, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Try to enjoy yourself, as I plan to.”
If he had to argue with Thayne about his health one more time that night, he was afraid he might hurt the man. So he walked away, leaving his second to mop up the mess of the ungreeted guests. The thought of touching the hand of one more boring female made him want to stab his own eyes out.
Of course, mingling with the rest of the guests didn’t sound any more appealing. What he really wanted to do was go upstairs, lock his bedroom door, and sleep for a month straight. Not that he could with a particularly sexy little witch dominating his dreams.
Two weeks was a long time to be hung up on a one-night stand, even for a vampire. He should have forgotten about her hours after she left his bed, but every time to choked down a mouthful of blood, her sweet taste haunted his tongue. With every beautiful vampiress he met, visions of Sara’s naked body leaped into his head unbidden. Maybe the witch had somehow cursed him.
“Master Nicolaides,” said male voice behind him.
Rafe Santos approached with a lovely, heavily pregnant woman on his arm. Orrin had, of course, heard of Rafe’s dalliance with a witch that had turned out to be his beloved. As happy as Orrin was for his fellow master vampire to finally find his beloved, the parallels between their situations were a little too close for comfort. It was just Orrin’s bad luck that his own beloved had died before being turned into a vampire. He’d always blame himself for that, but Bryna had insisted on waiting until she gave birth.
“Master Santos, always a pleasure,” he said, shaking the man’s hand firmly before turning to the witch on his arm. “I understand congratulations are in order.”
The young witch’s light brown eyes twinkled with sheer happiness as she stuck out her hand to shake. Orrin shot a glance at Rafe for his approval to touch his mate. The man paused for a brief moment but then inclined his head. Orrin made sure the handshake was polite and very brief. Vampires didn’t care for others touching their beloveds.
“So nice to meet you, Master Nicolaides,” she said, rubbing her very large belly. “I’m Iris Holloway, and this is our bladder squasher, as yet unnamed.”
Orrin blinked in surprise at her confession for a moment but then smiled—his first honest smile in weeks. A month ago, he would have laughed uproariously at the woman’s comment, but tonight, all he could manage was a smile.
“Oof,” she winced.
“What is it, mi amada?” Rafe asked, concern in his expression.
“Nothing, she’s just living up to her name. Excuse me, won’t
you?”
The two masters watched as she hurried toward the restroom. Orrin’s heart ached, remembering Bryna’s distended belly and the unbearable grief he experienced after losing both her and their child. Pushing the memory back into the dark cave where it lived in his soul, he turned to Rafe, curious about something but not sure how to ask.
“You’re a lucky man.”
Rafe smiled and nodded. “Very.”
“She’s a witch, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Yes, Iris is a renowned Sentinel at Othercross Arcane Judiciary.”
Orrin considered Rafe. “So how did your paths even cross? It’s not like we vampires spend a lot of time at OAJ.”
Rafe’s eyes narrowed as he studied his fellow master. “Is that really what you want to ask me, Orrin?”
He stammered for a moment and then chuckled softly, humorlessly. “No, not really, but I don’t want to offend you.”
Rafe stepped closer, dropping his voice low. “You may ask me anything, my friend. I can see something’s troubling you, and if I can help, I will.”
What Orrin really wanted to ask was how Rafe had set aside the expectation for someone of his station to find a mate of suitable status. Iris’s calling as a Sentinel, while certainly noble, wasn’t as esteemed as a vampire birthright. He wanted to know how a master—as well as his clan—could accept a beloved whose social position was so far below his own. If he was completely honest with himself, what he desperately needed to know was if he could follow suit, knowing full well the vampire elite might not be as accepting of a lower-class mate who wasn’t a beloved.
Before he could gather his thoughts enough to ask anything, a commotion erupted somewhere down the hallway leading to the kitchens. A woman’s voice echoed around the ballroom.
“Orrin!”
If he’d been feeling better, he might have stormed down the hall and taken care of the disruption himself, but he simply didn’t have the energy to deal with servant drama. Thayne appeared at his side, tense and staring in the direction of the ruckus.
“Would you like me to—” he was cut off by another screech.
“Orrin Nicolaides, where the hell are you?”
The voice had grown closer, and though he didn’t recognize it, something about it felt familiar. Before he could put his finger on it, a female server dressed in a white shirt and black pants stormed around the corner, murder blazing in her eyes. Lovely brown eyes that his heart recognized before his mind did.
Sara!
She stopped in the doorway of the ballroom, her fierce gaze scanning the crowd, who all stared at her in shock. When she finally spotted him, she locked on to him like a pissed off laser beam and headed straight for him, shoving the partygoers out of her way as she went. The crowd wisely parted in front of her, creating a path directly to him.
“I’ll take care of this, sir,” Thayne said, but before he could move to stop her, Orrin stayed him with a hand on his shoulder.
Aiden appeared out of nowhere, standing in her path and getting growly, but that didn’t stop Sara. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the shifter flying into a group of guests like a bowling ball. He sat there blinking rapidly, no doubt wondering how such a little thing could kick his ass without even touching him.
By the blood, her fearlessness was hot!
But Orrin didn’t have time to worry about his guard. Sara stomped up to him and jammed her fists onto her hips, glaring up at him with righteous indignation.
“What the hell gives you the right—” she started.
That’s when her scent finally hit him, and nothing made sense but her. Even though her lips moved as if she were shouting at him, he couldn’t hear her words over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. It had to be important for her to confront him like this in the middle of a party filled with nothing but vampires, and he’d try to focus on her again soon, but for the moment, he was too shocked to realize something amazing.
For the first time in weeks, he was hungry. Ravenous, in fact. But only for Sara.
Chapter Six
The female vampire’s words swam in Sara’s head like a school of piranha, eating at her brain in a feeding frenzy. Beloved? She couldn’t be a vampire’s beloved!
Yet the evidence was there on her neck, plain as day. She should have realized the reason it hadn’t disappeared, as a normal bite would have healed over and vanished. The bite of a beloved scarred, leaving a permanent reminder of the bond, proof to the world that she’d been claimed as a vampire’s one true mate.
But the only vampire she’d ever been with was Orrin and it was common knowledge he’d already had—and lost—his beloved. And now she stood in the middle of a party meant to find his next mate.
What the actual fuck!
Not that she was jealous. Hell no! She was pissed. And she had no trouble expressing herself, even when surrounded by a brood of female vamps, all baring their fangs and hissing at her.
“What the hell gives you the right to do that to me? Huh? Explain yourself!”
His eyes grew wide and he sucked in a big, raspy breath but remained silent. That’s when she noticed how gaunt he appeared. Pale to the point of looking gray and much thinner than she remembered. Alarm bells rang in her head, but she shut them down. He probably just had a vampy flu or something and she wasn’t about to let him off easy because he had the freaking sniffles.
The wolf shifter who’d been standing guard outside of Orrin’s room the night of their fling finally gained his feet after her spell, growling and growing furry. Sara honestly hadn’t realized she’d be capable of knocking a fully grown man on his ass, much less a werewolf. Rage must have boosted her powers, and that rage still flowed freely in her veins. She shot the man a hard look and he stopped advancing.
“Don’t worry. I won’t hurt your precious master. By the way, did you know? Did you know what he did to me that night?”
The guard—Aiden, she thought—seemed puzzled but then looked around the gathered guests, his cheeks flooding with embarrassment. “Uh, yeah. I mean, not specifically, but I heard you screaming his name all night in the hall.”
It was Sara’s turn to flush red. “Not that, idiot! Oh, never mind.”
Turning back to the object of her wrath, she narrowed her eyes at him. “Answer me, Orrin! What the hell gave you the right to claim me as your beloved without so much as a by your leave?”
A short vampiress with tits up to her chin gasped. “How dare you?”
“How dare I? How dare he?” Sara snapped, jabbing a finger into Orrin’s chest.
It seemed to pull him out of his stupor. With a shake of his head, his eyes finally focused on her. “Sara?”
“Duh!”
“W-what are you saying?”
Sara threw her hands up. “Are you fucking with me? You must be. Why wouldn’t you be? I mean, you are the guy who waltzed into my life, turned it upside down by claiming me without my consent and then started the search for a new bride without even talking to me first. Classy, Orrin, really classy.”
A deep crease formed in his brow. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, really? This is all some great big mystery to you. Is it? Listen, if you had that much interest in me, you should have used your words, not your teeth. I just find it hilarious that you claimed me like that and then tossed me aside, like I was nothing. I never would have slept with you if I’d known you were so cruel.”
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, to give him the satisfaction. Truth be told, he’d hurt her feelings. She hadn’t been looking for anything long-term that night—hell, it was a wedding reception—but even as it was happening, she’d known she would never forget a moment of it. It had been spectacular and special, so for him to go searching for someone else—someone better—without even giving them a chance to figure out how wrong they were for each other was downright rude.
“Master, perhaps you and your guest should retire to the study for privacy,” said a m
an hovering near Orrin.
Orrin’s gaze never left her, even has he nodded his agreement. “Yes, Sara, let’s—”
“No. Uh uh, no way. We can find privacy after you explain this!” Sara pulled the kerchief from around her throat and pointed to the mating mark seared into her flesh. More gasps filled the air, the party people all glancing at each other and whispering as Sara stared down Orrin.
When his eyes dropped to her neck, they widened slightly, and his face contorted into anger. It fell away just as quickly into an emotionless mask.
“Congratulations,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Congrat… Is that supposed to be funny?”
He swallowed hard. “Of course not. I understand your anger, Sara, but you have to believe that I didn’t know you’d already been claimed by another vampire. I pray your beloved can forgive my transgression, but it was completely accidental. If you’d only told me…”
Sara gaped at him, unable to make sense of what he was saying. “I’d accept your congratulations if the idiot beloved in question wasn’t your stupid ass!”
Orrin froze and she could almost see the wheels spinning in his head. The next moment, she was in his arms and his lips sought out hers. In her fit of pique, Sara had nearly forgotten how much she’d craved another kiss from him, how electric his touch felt on her skin, how his lips sent her to a new plane of bliss.
“Mine,” he growled, claiming her mouth again and again. “Beloved,” he murmured as he bury his face in her neck with his cock growing thick against her hip. He kissed the spot he’d bitten and Sara nearly came, right there in front of hundreds of watching eyes.
Maybe privacy wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Before she could drag him away, though, he pulled back and gazed down at her, his eyes full of wonder and confusion. “The scars… they’re really mine? How is that possible?”
She smiled up at him—even though she was still mad. “I don’t know who you blew to get a second beloved, but it appears you did. And it’s little ol’ me. Hope that’s not too big of a disappointment.”