by Rebecca Main
“Tread carefully, Adolphus.”
Before I can retort, Sebastian makes his entrance. His brown curly hair is also mussed from sleep and presses flat against his head. He wears only a pair of silk pajama bottoms. I gape at his informal attire, unused to such casual displays.
“Already acting the part of woman enthralled?” Stormrow asks, familiar amusement painting his words.
Sebastian points a quizzical look over his shoulder at the pair of us while he pours himself a large glass of blood. When the realization hits, he gives a disapproving scowl. “You do realize, our relationship is merely an act. One to be held strictly outside the apartment suite, not within it.”
I huff. "I'm just not used to seeing him look so… so undressed!"
"You'll see far worse out there," Stormrow says.
Sebastian nods solemnly and adds, "Much worse."
The men wear matching looks of skeptical brows slanted inward, the corners of their lips sneaking up. Their thoughts are clear.
“I’m not some prude,” I say, bristling at their insinuations. “I’m merely unused to seeing him in anything other than suits or layered sweaters. He's never like... this!” Sebastian and Stormrow choose to sit side by side on the emerald love seat, their expressions still identical as they put on mocking smirks. “What?” I snap.
“Nothing,” Stormrow says. “Only, I find it funny you would say such a thing seeing as how you’re currently dressed.” My cheeks heat to an almost painful degree.
“The only clothes I’ve been granted are gowns and negligee fit for a Parisian call girl. This robe is the only thing halfway decent in my new wardrobe,” I hiss. Stormrow’s mouth snaps shut, and I turn my icy glare in Sebastian’s direction. “A fact I blame on you, seeing as how everyone in the Dark Court is meant to think of me as a whore. I’m surprised we weren’t forced to room together.”
Sebastian clears his throat, his smirk gone and replaced with a semiguilty grimace. “Yes, we should be thankful for small miracles. Though, do know the reason we are not, as you put it, 'rooming together,' is because they believe you to be a shared commodity." Sebastian raises both hands in surrender before I can work up any of my outrage into complete sentences. "This was Jakob's doing, not mine. He wanted you to have your own space, but this was the only way to do it."
“Don't expect me to be grateful," I seethe.
Ruby joins our gathering before I can make a bigger scene, stealing my thunder with her shockingly short ensemble. My mouth falls agape once more. “Hello!” she chirps. “Where’s Jakob?”
"Hopefully drowning in a pool of his own blood," I mutter.
“Out,” Stormrow replies, watching with rapt attention as Ruby reaches high for a decanter. Her nightie hikes upward. I growl and snap my teeth at him, and Stormrow averts his eyes, but a happy smile dances on his lips. “You say you’re not a prude, Adolphus, yet you reprimand me for appreciating Ruby’s… assets?”
“Your manners leave much to be desired,” I tell him blandly. He opens his mouth to retort when the front door opens. Vrana enters, dressed in matching black pants and button-up shirt. He relieves himself of his dove gray suit jacket and joins us around the fire. Briefly, I wonder who awoke early enough to light all the various candles, oil lamps, and wall sconces, but my thoughts are scattered as I witness Ruby dash over to Jakob's side.
She presses a kiss to his cheek, then claims one of the two cognac chesterfield chairs. Vrana wipes the blood from his cheek left by her lips.
“Nova will be up shortly,” she declares.
“Good. I hope you’re all well rested,” he says, choosing to sit on the opposite end of the black leather couch I've chosen to occupy. Perfect. “We have much work to do.”
My eyebrows lift. “What work is that? You’ve got what you wanted. Your ring and entrance back into the Dark Court.”
“My wants far exceed what you have named,” he says, then pauses to let his words sink in. Though it feels like an eon, I know only a second goes by as we meet each other's glares. When I look into them, I see a dark longing—one that speaks of his many years on this earth and his complete willingness to do whatever it takes to make those longings a reality. As I let my gaze sweep onto the shimming flames of the fire, I think my true consolation is not being the focus of such desire.
“Do explain,” I droll on with a feigned sigh. “I’m on the edge of my seat.”
Ruby snickers at my words and Vrana’s resulting frown.
“I seek what belongs to me,” Vrana says, his voice dropping an octave and re-earning my regard. A shiver snakes down my spine as he holds my gaze.
“And what is that, exactly?”
He displays the Amethyst of the Aztec ring he wears, the mighty ring that offers him true protection against the deadly rays of the sun. “My family once owned five amethyst rings,” he tells me. “Upon my… abrupt departure, they were taken.”
“Will they not be returned to you now that you’re back? Or will you force Nova to fight for them as well?” I ask.
Nova pads quietly into the great room. Her gaze flits over us before locking onto the decanters of blood. Instantly, her eyes flood to red, and she uses her vampiric speed to cover the remaining distance. The other vampyrés in the room watch her actions intently—a fact Nova is aware of, given the shaky execution of her pour.
“You’ve much to learn here, Irina, if you think the rings would simply be ‘returned.’ As you’re well aware, Aztec amethysts are highly coveted by my kind. And less than one hundred are said to be in existence.”
“And somehow your family procured five?”
“Yes.” He stresses the S, and I witness the passion rise behind his striking blue and silver eyes. “The amethysts currently in circulation at court are rotated within the families that possess them. In total, there are forty-nine here.”
“Do you know who has them?” Nova asks. She leans against the dark platinum wallpaper, one arm wrapping around her torso as the other clings to her tumbler of blood. Her vision remains red, but the frenzied look about her is gone.
“I'm aware of how many each individual household has,” Vrana says. A furrow develops across his forehead as his eyes narrow on some far-off point. Red veins begin to creep across the plain of his sight, but they vanish within the blink of an eye. “Which is why we’re going to find out exactly who has them and if any of them are ours.”
The room stills, suddenly full of electric energy. I spare Nova a glance to see if I might garner her thoughts on Vrana's proclamation, wondering if she knew this all along, but she is too enslaved by her drink. She stares intently at the liquid in her glass, her teeth grinding together in silent agitation as she visibly swallows every few seconds. I hold back a sigh and look away. Why I bother to gain an ally in the newly turned vampyré is now a mystery to me. She is too consumed by her thirst to possibly help me escape.
Vrana’s deadly tone leaves little to the imagination. When we find the rings, the individual or individuals who took them will have to withstand Vrana’s wrath. My bottom lip finds its way between my teeth. If Vrana is occupied by hunting down his precious rings, then perhaps an opportunity to escape or send word to my family won’t be such an impossible task after all.
“I wonder,” Vrana says, his smooth vibrato coiling around me, "what is going on in that pretty little head of yours.”
I feign interest in my cuticles. “Oh just counting down the days until the next full moon,” I lie. Approximately thirteen more nights.
Ruby shifts in her seat, pulling her legs up under her bottom. “I love a good hunt,” she confesses, her mirth depicted in the eager slant of her body toward mine and shining almond eyes. “What’s the plan?”
Vrana ignores our exchange. “You have the necessary items I requested, Jax? And a solution for the matter of the keys, I hope.”
Stormrow nods and fetches a black velvet bag from his room and a small pill case. He places both items on the o
bsidian coffee table, which looks more to be a piece of art than functional furniture.
“I’m still working on replicating the pair to make a third set,” Stormrow explains as Vrana opens the bag. He then proceeds to pull out the queerest object.
"What is that?" I ask, my curiosity escaping me.
The object is small, no bigger than a child’s play scissors—and shaped like one too! But this particular object has one significant difference. Unlike a standard pair of scissors, attached to the finger handle pieces aren't blades. Instead, stiff metal rods protrude. Two-inches in length, each thin rod ends in a colored glass eyepiece.
Vrana holds the spectacle scissors and spreads the handles apart with his fingers. The colored glass sails apart. Pinching his fingers together, the glass pieces overlap one another, as they originally appeared.
“They work?” Vrana asks, placing the odd spectacle scissors back in the bag.
“Yes,” Stormrow replies with all the confidence in the world. He reclines in his spot, spreading his arms over the back of the love seat and procuring an eye roll from Sebastian. “You’ll need a steady stream of light to work them. Once you have an amethyst in your possession to inspect, simply engage the two lenses and have the light pass through them onto the stone. If the amethyst belongs to your family, the enchanted V will appear on the stone, as if etched upon its surface. I must admit, your former head of household was quite clever in his design to brand your family rings with magic.”
“That he was,” Vrana murmurs.
"As for the keys, if everyone takes the pills I've fashioned, we shall all be set. Do take the pill with something strong, the aftertaste is quite unpleasant."
Nova shuffles forward, her first sixteen ounces of the night finished off. “How exactly are we supposed to get the rings? Won’t they be wearing them?”
Nova’s question brings a smirk to Ruby’s lips—a devious smirk. She slips from her chair and glides over to Nova’s side. The young vampyré eyes her with trepidation, but it does nothing to stop Ruby. She runs her fingertips along the waistband of Nova’s leather pants, breezing across the younger's midriff, and making Nova's nostrils flare. Ruby let’s out a soft laugh. The sound enticing and inviting.
“We use our wiles, little one,” she cajoles gently. Ruby strokes her other hand down Nova’s arm.
“I don’t need a demonstration,” Nova says stiffly.
But Ruby’s effects are apparent. Nova’s eyes swim in red, though she valiantly tries to blink back her hunger. Ruby makes a cooing noise in her throat and shifts closer. The two are nearly the same height, with Nova edging out the older vampyré by an inch or two and standing at 5'6".
Ruby takes hold of Nova’s hand and folds her fingers into her palm with great care until only her middle finger remains uncurled. Nova gasps as Ruby’s lips curl around said finger and proceeds to let loose a riveting moan.
Nova breaks the spell with a startled gasp, jerking to the side, her eyes wide as she pants unnecessarily. “I’m not doing that!”
“Pity,” Ruby teases, flashing back to her seat with an all too satisfied smile.
“Find your own way to get hold of the stones and test them. I don’t care how, but don’t make a scene of it. No one can know we’re searching for them, is that clear?” Vrana’s voice turns sharp as glass by the end of his rant.
“I rather like Ruby’s way,” Stormrow announces. At my judgmental glower, he sends me a roguish wink. “What say you, Irina, my old friend? Are you up to the task?” Stormrow wiggles his eyebrows for effect.
“I believe other methods will prove more effective at my hand,” Sebastian counters. Then his eyes pin me in place. “I’m more interested in learning what efforts our lone wolf will pursue.”
The regard of the room falls upon me, and I sit up straight. “My efforts?” A strangled laugh bursts from my throat. “You can’t honestly expect me to help you?”
Inside my mind, the wolf takes a defensive stance. Vrana’s gaze turns arctic, and despite the necklace, a trace of his displeasure seeps through the soulmark. “I believe we’ve discussed your status amongst this family too many times already—”
“You mean your deluded notion that I'm a part of it? Agreed,” I snarl.
Vrana shifts his torso to face me directly. “You will help us, Irina.” His tone is so dangerously soft, it offers no room for rebuke. Nova gently clears her throat, obviously uncomfortable, and my gaze flicks to her in annoyance. I don't expect her to shoot me such a pointed look in return. She mouths something to me... a word I can't make out. Is she saying the word kill?
I frown in my confusion until her repetition draws a different word to mind. Deal.
When I return to Vrana’s icy glare, I have calmed significantly, a surge of hope stirring in my belly. “Fine,” I tell him, letting my lashes hang heavily over my eyes. “Under one condition: the terms of my release.”
This time I ignore the room's regard. Instead, I watch in satisfaction as Vrana’s lips turn sharply down in displeasure. “If I recall correctly, we’ve spoken of this too. The soulmark does not—”
“I’m quite sure I’m more well versed in the subject of soulmarks than you, leech. It’s more frequent among my kind than yours. If we remain only sealed, an arrangement can be made with both parties keeping their heads and minds intact.”
“This is not up for negotiation,” he tells me, voice tight with unconcealed outrage.
“Pity,” I reply, leaning forward and letting the wolf’s golden presence steal into my glare. “I suppose I’ll have no choice but to let the Dark Court in on your little game.”
Vrana smiles cruelly back. “Then I suppose I’ll be forced to keep you locked up in your room.”
“Not unless you want to garner suspicion. I’m Sebastian’s little pet wolf, after all. From what I could scent among the crowd yesterday, I’m the only of my kind here. They’ll wonder where I am. They'll want to see me on display. The Vrana family’s trophy whore.”
“Nonsense, we'll merely tell them we feed on you too often to have the strength for court life,” he quips. “I’m sure they'll laugh about it for weeks.”
I bite my tongue to stifle my growl and inhale deeply to calm my anger. I need this.
My freedom depends on it.
“We both know I won’t stop,” I tell him deceptively soft, retreating back into the corner of the sofa with a languid, confident air. “I’ll scream and shout, throw the largest tantrum you’ve ever seen, Vrana. Until one night, somebody who’s not a part of this little family notices me. Until one of you slips up, and I rip you to shreds.”
“Irina,” Sebastian says my name cautiously, bypassing Vrana’s scathing look to pursue his case. “If you reveal our plot, we shall all face the consequences. Even you. They won’t spare you, despite what they may promise you in exchange for information against us. Worse still, they might keep you alive as a pet.”
“I’m already dead, Sebastian dear,” I tell him simply, refusing to look away from Vrana. “Isn’t that right, Jakob? Once Stormrow can find a way to sever our bond, you’ll get rid of me. Truly, I have no incentive to behave or help you in any way.”
“Then why behave last night?” he asks.
“Timing, dearest. It's far more opportune to negotiate now, don’t you agree?”
Vrana snarls and flashes to the decanters of blood. In a blur of motion, he hurls one at the far western wall. The wall, I note, which my en suite bathroom shares. “You little bitch,” he spits, eyes red in their fury.
“Don’t forget intelligent, darling.”
My cavalier reply somehow manages to deplete his anger, and he regards me with some unfathomable expression crossing his features. I spy longing in his gaze—again—and with it, conflict. And then it is all gone. As if his outburst never occurred, he replies cordially.
“You have a deal, dear heart. Upon the return of all Vrana family amethysts, you shall be released from the Dark
Court and allowed to continue your life above ground. Of course, due to our predicament, you shall not be allowed to wander too far.”
“I understand perfectly,” I say. “And I accept.”
“Perfect,” he purrs, suddenly at my side, his body held above me. “And now that we have your explicit compliance to our cause… how do you plan on inspecting the amethysts?”
My heart stops for one painful minute at his nearness, the devilish roots of the soulmark stirring again past the necklace's magic. “I’m sure I’ll manage somehow,” I tell him tersely. He does not retreat.
“You face a unique problem, soulmark,” he says. “Your touch is memorable, if only for the fact that it is so deliciously warm.”
“Perhaps it would be best for Irina to work in a pair,” Ruby suggests.
“Perhaps,” Vrana murmurs, slowly pulling away, his gaze no less intense as he moves.
Thank you, Ruby, I think dazedly as I rush to regain my composure. Damn Vrana and his need to have the upper hand at all costs.
“She can use that heat of hers to distract while I perform the inspections! Are you any good at fondling, Irina?”
Rosy hues cover my cheeks in splotches as I struggle to respond. “What?”
“What about groping?” Stormrow asks cheerfully, jumping on the bandwagon.
“This is ridiculous,” I mutter, cheeks still aflame.
“Caressing?”
“Stroking?”
“Ravishing?”
“Orgies?”
My eyes widen with each outrageous suggestion until I can take no more. “Absolutely not!”
Ruby purrs in delight at my reaction and sandwiches herself between Vrana and myself, pressing into my side.
“Jakob is right,” she tells me in a mock whisper. “This heat of yours is distracting.”
I stand, startled at the lengths at which they go to pursue the matter. I press my lips in a firm line as I frown in displeasure. But it does nothing to stop the flush from spreading down my neck to the top of my chest. “I think that’s enough,” I inform them all flatly.