by Heaton, F E
Sophis stumbled back into line with Vivek and pressed her right hand to her chest, lowering her gaze to the toes of her boots. “Yes, Commander Tynan. I apologise for my outburst.”
“There is something you two can do. I was asked to select two guards to oversee the internal security for the ball.”
Sophis lifted her head and stared at Tynan with wide eyes. “You want us to do it?”
Tynan ran a hand over his short dark hair and gave her a look that conveyed just how big a risk he was taking by assigning this to two captains, and them in particular. It was a job for elite guards not someone of their rank.
“I want you to do more than oversee it.” Tynan clipped the short collar of his black jacket closed. The elaborate gold embroidery on it that signified him as a commander shone brightly against the dark material, reflecting the light from the lamp on his oak desk. “I want you to go undercover at the ball. No one will know you are there except myself and Lord Timur. Do you understand?”
Sophis understood perfectly well what he wanted them to do, she just didn’t understand why. It was an honour to be chosen for this mission, one she felt unworthy of given her recent behaviour and actions, but she couldn’t refuse the order. Tynan was showing his faith in her and she wouldn’t let him down. It was a chance to prove her strength and her ability as a guard, and she would do her duty and make everyone in her bloodline see that she was one of the best.
There was a knock at the door and the person on the other side opened it without waiting for an invitation from within.
Sophis, Vivek and Tynan saluted.
Deshal, Chosen Son of the Venia bloodline, made a dismissive motion with his gloved hand and stepped into the room.
He ran his steely grey gaze over them all and paused when it reached the body slumped in the chair near Tynan’s desk. His gaze moved on, settling on Tynan.
“We were not expecting you back so soon,” Tynan said with a stiff bow of his head. “I trust your hunt was fruitful?”
Deshal moved forwards, his attention solely on Tynan, and nodded as he tugged his black leather gloves off and then tucked them into the pocket of his fine long black wool coat. “The city is cold as a witch’s tit tonight but I managed to find a pleasant enough girl.”
Sophis’s skin crawled at the perverse smile he flashed at Tynan. Deshal stank of sex. The fact that he fornicated with his prey disgusted her. His grey gaze slid her way, his fair eyebrows briefly knitting, and she schooled her features and swiftly locked her emotions down so he wouldn’t sense them. At over three hundred years old, Deshal could probably see through her façade, but he didn’t call her on it.
He smiled at her, raked his gaze downwards at the same time as preening the tangled waves of his jaw-length blond hair from his face, and then returned his attention to Tynan. Sophis couldn’t understand why so many women in the bloodline desired Deshal. He was handsome but that wasn’t everything. The man had a reputation for keeping human pets, a perversion that Lord Timur indulged rather than eradicated. He had pampered his Chosen Son and Chosen Daughter, giving them free rein to do as they pleased.
That included bringing humans to the mansion.
The high-ranked members of their bloodline saw that as sacrilegious, but none of them were brave enough to speak out about it.
Deshal had even turned some of his females, only to grow bored of them after a short time, as though they had lost their charm and sparkle on becoming a vampire. Ella had thrown herself into the guard after he had discarded her, but another had suffered a worse fate. Deshal had given Cara to their Chosen Daughter, Lorna, as an aide, as though she was a possession that he could do with as he pleased. Sophis often saw Cara around the house, following Lorna wherever she went, and always staring after Deshal whenever he passed. When Deshal had callously given Cara away, Sophis had heard rumours that she had only agreed to become a vampire because he had promised that he would change his ways and would remain forever hers.
Sophis could understand why Cara felt hurt by that and how he had treated her. If someone had promised her forever only to cast her aside after a few years, she would have been heartbroken too. Whenever Sophis saw the petite woman around the house, she couldn’t help wondering if Deshal had even mentioned the only other course of action open to him. Deshal kept his human consorts alive at the mansion until the last possible moment, often pushing the limit of the Law Keepers’ patience when it came to the rule about not revealing their existence to humans unless they intended to kill or turn them.
Had Deshal told Cara that the alternative was to kill her?
Not many would choose death over eternal life if they were presented with a chance to select their fate, even if they knew at the outset that their immortal life would be spent pining after the man who broke their heart.
“Have all preparations been made for the security at the masquerade?” Deshal removed his thick black coat, folded it over his left arm, and neatened out the cuffs of his dark purple shirt.
His whole manner declared that he wasn’t remotely interested in the security for the ball. He yawned and then frowned at a dark smudge on the cuff of his shirt. When he touched it, his fingertip came away red. Blood.
It was on his collar too.
Deshal affected an air of refinement and elegance but it seemed he made messes just like every other vampire when the bloodlust seized him.
Sophis looked down at her jacket cuff. She could still smell the hunter’s blood on it.
Her gaze snuck to Vivek where he stood on the other side of Deshal facing her. A tremor rocked her when her eyes met his, their hazel depths lit by strange fire. Her breath caught in her throat.
Tynan must have answered with a nod because Deshal spoke again, shattering whatever spell Vivek had been under and causing him to look away.
“May I see the plans?”
“Everything is in order and exactly as Lord Timur requested,” Tynan said, a cold edge to his tone. “It is my job to ensure the safety of the attendees and not something our Chosen Son should concern himself with.”
Deshal waved his hand again. “It is not something I care about, but Timur believes I should involve myself and requested that I checked that everything was in place. I only wanted to be thorough.”
“I appreciate your concern. If you wish, I can find something you can do during the ball to improve security,” Tynan said and Deshal held his hands up.
“I do not think I would go that far. Given the choice between socialising at the ball and walking the grounds with the guards, I know which I will choose.”
Tynan nodded and gathered the papers scattered across his oak desk, tapped all of the sides until they were neat, and then placed them in the desk drawers. Sophis had seen Tynan do that enough times to know what it meant. She wasn’t sure whether Tynan was aware of his actions, but it was his way of silently telling the occupants of his office that their conversation was over and he wanted them to leave.
Deshal seemed to get the message and turned to Vivek, who saluted again. “I trust you know your role during the ball?”
Vivek nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir,” Sophis answered before Deshal dared turn to look at her. She didn’t want his eyes on her again.
Deshal saluted Tynan with a brief nod and gave one last look at the dead hunter, and then left the room.
“Interfering bastard,” Tynan muttered under his breath after the door had closed and Sophis smiled, glad that she wasn’t the only one who didn’t like the man. He looked at her and Vivek. “You do know your roles?”
Sophis nodded. She knew it but she still didn’t want to think about why they were going undercover.
Did Lord Timur believe that hunters would penetrate the ball?
Or did he think he was in danger from one of the attendees?
CHAPTER 6
Vivek took the dimly lit steps down from the second floor of the house two at a time. The first floor was pandemonium, servants rushing to and from
the rooms, making last minute preparations before the first of the guests arrived.
He hadn’t slept a wink today but he had never felt so alive and awake. Since Tynan had given him and Sophis their new orders, Vivek had been unable to stop smiling to himself. Tynan was giving him an opportunity that he wouldn’t waste. Only elite guards could attend the ball. Did that mean Tynan honestly believed that he was now elite material? If he proved himself during this mission, would he gain the rank he had sought since joining the guard? The thought caused a childish sort of giddiness to rush through him.
His smile faltered.
He was forgetting something. Tynan would want to promote Sophis too. If she became an elite guard, she would be in more danger than she was now as a captain. He wasn’t sure how he would deal with that. He would want to be with her at all times but it would be impossible. Elite guards often patrolled alone. She would be vulnerable. Heat blazed through his heart and into his veins at the thought of her out in the city with no one to protect her.
Vivek paused in the long hall of the first floor when Deshal exited his rooms, straightening the collar of his black pinstripe shirt. Vivek bowed his head when the Chosen Son looked at him and kept it lowered until he walked away, striding towards the entrance hall.
Deshal had been out in the city. Aleksis had smelt of Venia. Had Deshal been the vampire who had come into contact with the hunter? Had they fought? There had been blood on Deshal’s clothing but its scent had been soft, feminine, and Deshal had smelt of sex. He hadn’t smelt of the vampire hunter, but it was possible that the scent of blood could have masked the subtler notes of Aleksis’s smell. Vivek shook his head. If Deshal had encountered Aleksis, he would have mentioned it to Tynan, and there would have been evidence of a fight on both men.
Unless they hadn’t been fighting.
When they had left Tynan’s office, Sophis had asked him whether Lord Timur might be enlisting them as undercover guards because he feared that one of his own might attack him at the ball. Vivek had dismissed it at the time as a ridiculous idea but it plagued him. If Sophis was right and Timur had reason to believe someone inside the bloodline was after his head, then the smell of a Venia vampire on Aleksis was even more worrying than it had been at first. It could mean that the hunters were in league with a vampire in the mansion.
He hadn’t mentioned it to Sophis but he was starting to feel he should in case she was right and someone within the family was out to kill Lord Timur.
Vivek lifted his head and shook off the bad feeling he had about the ball, letting the hustle and bustle around him chase away his fears.
The sun was creeping slowly towards the horizon and with every minute that passed the atmosphere in the mansion grew more electric. It wasn’t the first time that Vivek had been in the mansion when the Venia had hosted the Creator Day masquerade, but it was the first time he had been here when they had hosted the centenary celebrations, and it was the first time he had ever attended.
He didn’t care that he was going as an undercover guard on a mission.
He was going to be there, partaking in the ball, dressed in the elegant clothes he had seen on so many attendees in the past, and he was going to make the most of every second of it.
Blood, dancing, and socialising with some of the highest-ranking vampires in Europe. It was all on his list.
Along with guarding, of course. He would keep a close eye on his lord whilst enjoying himself and ensuring his mission went off without a hitch.
A mighty cacophony of growls and snarls broke through the excited chatter of the servants and Vivek sprinted along the corridor towards the noise. He skidded to a halt as he came out on the balcony at the top of the curved staircase in the entrance hall.
Fur.
It filled the foyer below him.
A twisting, gnashing, snarling sea of black, grey, hues of brown, and pale tan through to white.
Someone had let the dogs in.
Several Venia guards had the blades of their spears aimed at the mass of angry werewolves. The pack growled, hackles rising, some of them still sporting shreds of the clothes they had been wearing prior to their transformation into an animal.
“Devil, man, take back what you said before they rip us to pieces,” one of the younger guards at the front of the group of vampires said and prodded forwards with his spear when a large black werewolf made a lunge for him.
Fear swamped the air in the room and several female servants ran up the stairs, lifting the black skirts of their uniform in order to speed their escape. Other male servants remained in place, protecting the arrangements of roses from both werewolves and vampires.
“What the hell is happening here?” Vivek called down to the guards and one by one they looked up at him, the fear in their eyes increasing.
The youngest vampire, the one who had spoken, dropped his spear and saluted.
It clattered to the pale marble floor, the blade grazing the nose of the black werewolf, and Vivek tensed, waiting for all hell to break loose.
The werewolf growled and launched himself at the vampire. The vampire raised his arms to protect his face.
The biggest man Vivek had ever seen appeared from nowhere, plucked the werewolf from mid-air by the scruff of its neck, and shook it hard until it yelped and whimpered.
The entire room went still.
The man growled, revealing partially extended canines, and threw the werewolf into its kin, sending them scattering. Those fast enough to avoid being hit by their less fortunate brethren ran away from the scene with their tails firmly tucked between their legs and their rear quarters low to the ground.
Vivek stared at the man.
The man raised his head and fixed cold hard dark eyes on Vivek.
He had to stand over six-six, and had a build that looked twice as broad as Vivek’s was. The sable fur gathered around his shoulders only added to the imposing sight of him, a vision that would stop even the most powerful vampire in their tracks and make them think twice about challenging this werewolf. His long wavy black hair escaped its tie at the nape of the man’s thick neck, curling around his ears and falling across one side of his rugged face, drawing attention to the ridge of scar tissue that darted diagonally over his right eye.
“You wear the mark of a leader,” the man said, deep bass voice thick with a Russian accent, and nodded towards the collar of Vivek’s black uniform jacket.
Vivek touched the embellishments there. This man knew his bloodline well if he could discern the different ranks from the gold detailing on their jackets, but that didn’t surprise Vivek since this man was the mate of one of his kin.
“Dmitri, I presume,” Vivek said in a slow drawl, not letting the werewolf see that he was having second thoughts about descending the stairs in order to reprimand the Venia guards. They huddled beside the door down to the basement, their backs against the glass windows that covered the front wall of the entrance hall. The werewolves had gathered opposite them, near the doors to the ballroom. Dmitri stood in the middle of the double-height room, his dark gaze pinned on Vivek. “Would you mind telling me just what your... brethren... were doing attacking these guards?”
Dogs. That was the word he had wanted to use for them. Mangy mutts.
He held his tongue and smiled politely at the immense male at the bottom of the staircase. He had more sense than to offend a werewolf the size of Dmitri.
“I did not catch your name, little man. Why do you not come down here and we see who insulted who?”
Vivek’s smile faded. There was no way in Hell that he was going to stand up here and let the man insult him.
He walked calmly to the top of the stairs and then descended, running his hand down the red-roses-laced mahogany banister, taking his time about it and holding the werewolf’s gaze.
When he reached the bottom step, Dmitri closed in on him, not giving him room to step down to the pale marble floor.
The werewolf smirked.
Vivek held his grow
l inside. He was not going to let the dog keep him on this step. The man was doing it on purpose, showing him that whilst he was on this step, they were eye level, pointing out that he was shorter. A little man.
He was anything but that. At six feet two inches, he was taller than most in his bloodline.
Vivek ignored him. It took every ounce of his willpower to contain his growing anger and need to stand up to the werewolf, but he held it together and stepped to one side. The second Dmitri countered him, he slipped past him the other way, moving so fast that the werewolf didn’t have a chance to block him again.
“I want to know what happened here,” Vivek said to the vampires. None of them looked as though they were going to answer so he singled out the youngest guard.
The man was still trembling. Vivek couldn’t hold that against him. He had almost become dog food after all.
“Tell me or tell Commander Tynan. The choice is yours,” he said and the young man’s eyes widened. He hesitated, glancing at his comrades and blinking a few times when he found no support there, and then somehow found a sliver of bravery.
His back went rod-straight, he pressed his right hand to his chest and looked directly into Vivek’s eyes.
“We were heading out on patrol when the werewolves arrived. One of them whispered something about the compound, their kin, and how they would love to lock us away and see how we liked it.”
Dmitri crossed the room and the young vampire wavered, his focus dancing between Vivek and the werewolf. Vivek snapped his fingers and the vampire’s attention leapt back to him.
“We weren’t going to sit around and let them insult us.”
“So you threw your own barbs to see if they would stick, and the whole situation degenerated into a brawl... in the Venia mansion... when so many important guests are due to arrive at any moment?” Vivek held the young vampire’s gaze, ignoring the voice at the back of his mind that recounted he had done something similar when he had fought Sophis in the library, and watched his strength slowly crumble. He nodded weakly. Vivek waved his hand towards the door to his left that led to the basement. “Report to Commander Tynan immediately. We cannot have this sort of behaviour tainting the name of our bloodline.”