“Bring your patience,” Micah drawled. “Especially with Fabian.”
Arturo clarified. “I shall claim to be searching for the sorceress, which will be expected. But there are protocols to be followed in vampire politics and one does not simply march in, demand access to another kovena’s stronghold, and march out again. I will be invited to partake of the festivities, if there are any, cara. At the very least, I will be expected to dine with the vampire master. It will take time.”
“Something we don’t have.”
“I am aware. I will speed things along as quickly as I can, but he cannot become suspicious.”
“While you’re dining with Fabian, I can try to find Vintry.”
“Absolutely not. You will stay close to me at all times. If for some reason that is not feasible, I will find a safe place to lock you away.”
“I’m not helpless, Vampire.”
“Perhaps not, but you are human. Once we’ve located Vintry, we will approach him together.”
Arturo pulled up. When she’d managed to stop her horse, he turned to her. “We have reached the Crux. Traveling through will save us time if we can trust Savin.”
The last thing any of them needed, especially Arturo, was a repeat of their time in Wolf Land. But she believed Savin had been sincere.
“Let’s try it and see what happens.”
“You’re both insane,” Micah muttered. But he followed as Arturo and Quinn started forward.
They’d gone no more than a hundred yards when three wolves appeared on the hillside not far from where Quinn thought they’d said good-bye to their previous escort.
“Savin!” she yelled. A moment later, one of the wolves shifted into a man, though it was far too dark to recognize him. “We need an escort across. Can you provide one?”
“Stick to your path, human. We’ll accompany you.”
Quinn lifted her hand in thanks.
As they started forward, Micah grunted. “That was either brilliant, or incredibly stupid. Then again, you promised them food, didn’t you?”
“I also promised to share my power with them when I come into it. The alpha has seen what I can do.”
“When you almost killed him? What exactly did you do?” Micah asked.
“I made a bubble.”
“A bubble?” Arturo sounded confused. “Explain.”
“I created a miniworld. Like Vamp City.”
The protracted silence that met her revelation had her wishing she could see their expressions.
“How?” Arturo asked, clearly stunned.
“I’m not sure. The wolves were performing some kind of ritual to steal, or borrow, my power. It hurt, and I tried to make them stop, but my usual power didn’t rise. The Alpha got mad that I wasn’t cooperating and started crowding me. All of a sudden the two of us were standing in the dark, alone. The light was gone. Everything was gone—light, sound, the rest of his pack. I didn’t know what had happened at first.”
“You have the power of Phineas Blackstone,” Micah breathed.
“I have the ability to do one of his tricks, at least. The bubble was small, no more than six feet by six feet, and it collapsed on us pretty quickly. But Savin was trapped, which gave me the leverage I needed to secure his promise to free Arturo and me. I told him that once I had my full power, I’d return and share it with them.”
“What do you mean by the bubble collapsed?” Arturo asked slowly.
“It shrank in on us, then exploded.” She decided to keep a few of the details to herself, for now. Like the fact that she’d nearly suffocated. And the fact that only when she was facing death was she able to find the power to save them.
The two vampires fell silent. At first, she wondered what they were thinking, but soon the silence, the soft breeze, and the rhythmic gait of the horse began to lull her to sleep. When her head fell, jerking her awake, she decided that silence wasn’t her friend. She’d better do something to stay awake, or she was going to wind up in the dirt.
“You called Fabian a rival. Where does rival fall, exactly, on the spectrum between ally and enemy?”
“Smack-dab in the middle,” Micah told her.
Arturo, appearing to understand her need for conversation, gave a more detailed explanation. “Cristoff and Sakamoto are the strongest of the V.C. vampire masters and are mortal enemies. Since one is as powerful as the other, if in different ways, they maintain a balance. Two others—Fabian Neptune and Jean-Luc Oubre—are strong both in numbers and in power, if not as strong as the first two. The remaining five vampire masters and their kovenas have aligned themselves with one or another of the strongest four.”
“So, since Fabian is aligned with neither Cristoff nor Sakamoto, does he maintain diplomatic ties to both in case one or the other attacks and tries to take his territory?”
“Precisely. Gonzaga maintains ties to all the kovenas except for Sakamoto’s and the two smaller kovenas aligned with him, one of which, unfortunately, is Castle Smithson.”
As they traveled through the empty lands of the Crux, Quinn saw the occasional home, lit by candlelight. It should be a welcoming sign, she mused. But vampires didn’t sleep, and a lit house in the small hours of the morning probably meant Rippers.
They rode in silence, passing it without incident, and soon she recognized the bright swirling lights of the Focus in the distance, the dead center of Vamp City. It was the very spot where Phineas Blackstone had stood when he created this place. And it would be the spot where she would stand to save it.
The reminder of the potential threat of Rippers kept her awake better than any discussion, and the miles passed quickly. Finally, several wolves appeared on the opposite rise. Their escort howled, and the wolves took off the other way.
“We’re leaving the Crux,” Arturo told her before she could ask the question.
“I’m officially impressed,” Micah said. “I’ll be leaving you kids soon, but I might need a little assistance before I go.”
His tone had her questioning the request, especially when Arturo replied with silence.
“What kind of assistance?” she asked finally.
Arturo grunted. “Micah needs to feed to ensure he has the energy to create his own glamour.”
“He needs blood?”
“Sorry, Quinn,” Micah said sincerely. “I’d rather not ask this of you. And . . . I need more than just blood,” he added quickly.
“You’re a pleasure-feeder.” Surely he wasn’t asking for sex.
“He will drink your blood,” Arturo said. “I alone will be sharing your pleasure.”
Which wasn’t a huge improvement. “And just how do you plan to do that? I’m not into threesomes.”
“Nor am I. Not with you.”
She thought her mind might explode from the pictures his qualifier sent flinging through her skull. With a thorough shake of her head, she pulled her thoughts back to the problem at hand.
“No sex.” She grimaced as she looked at the shadow she knew to be Arturo.
“Agreed.” And by the sharp tone of his voice, she had no doubt he did. The jealous one had no more desire to touch her in that way in front of another male than she had to be touched.
Micah pulled up in a small copse of dead trees, dismounting. Arturo and Quinn followed, and the vampire took her reins, securing their mounts.
“Remove your jacket and give him your wrist, cara.”
“I’d prefer her neck,” Micah said, his tone telling her he was poking the tiger just as Neo had.
“You’d prefer to have her all to yourself for a few minutes,” Arturo countered. “Or an hour. But you’re not getting that, either.”
Quinn slid her jacket off and felt it taken from her.
“You never did share well, Ax.”
“With Quinn, I never will.”
Micah took her hand, sliding her sweater up to her forearm. As he lifted her inner wrist to his mouth, the moon came out fully, and she saw the light gleam on the white pupils of his e
yes and his growing fangs. He’d never looked less like her neighbor the writer. He was all vampire, now.
Arturo cupped her cheek, turning her to face him, pulling her gaze away from Micah as she felt the pinch of fangs in her arm. Arturo’s eyes began to change, too, his pupils turning white.
“I am going to drink from you, cara. A very little. But enough.”
Enough to make her orgasm.
“You’re going to embarrass me in front of Micah,” she countered, already feeling the heat of it in her cheeks.
“Your orgasm will feed him quicker and faster than anything else. And time is of the essence, do you not agree?”
Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly, shedding her inhibitions along with the air. At least it was dark out here. “Go ahead.”
Arturo stroked her face with his thumb, but his words were for Micah when he spoke. “Pull me off of her if I get lost.”
A deep sound of agreement met her ears.
Arturo brushed her hair off her shoulder, baring her neck, and she tipped her head to the side, giving him full access. Two vampires, both wanting to feed from her, and she was letting them do so freely.
Trust came in many forms.
She felt Arturo’s lips brush the sensitive skin at the curve of her neck a second before his fangs slid in. Her breath caught with anticipation, and she was not disappointed. He pulled gently, a small intake of blood, but the pleasure that ripped through her was anything but small.
Quinn gasped, her breath trembling into her lungs.
Arturo took a second, harder pull, and she cried out from the blast of exquisite pleasure that left her shaking with need, her body trembling, her legs weak, her body pulsing hot and low. With his third pull of blood, she came, hard and fast, her legs buckling beneath her. As the pleasure ripped through her over and over, she felt Arturo’s arms around her, holding her close, his mouth moving from her neck to her jaw, to her cheek, to her mouth. And then they were kissing, touching, his hands in her hair, her free hand sliding over his muscular shoulder.
She barely noticed the pull on her wrist, didn’t even realize it had stopped until Arturo pulled away, kissing her forehead, and she realized she had both arms wrapped around his neck.
In a flush of embarrassment, she pulled away, hazarding a glance at Micah who was watching them with the same look on his face she’d often seen on Arturo’s when they first met—that rapturous look of feeding pleasure.
“I’m going to hang around you kids more often,” Micah said, his tone all too serious. “If it was half as good for you, Quinn, as it was for me . . .”
Quinn’s face flamed hotter. “I’d rather not discuss my orgasm with you, Micah, if it’s all the same to you.”
He grinned. “No discussion necessary. I was there.” He shook his head, his expression turning once more serious. “Don’t let Fabian get a taste of that, or he may lock you two up and never let you leave.”
Micah strode to where he’d tied his horse and quickly mounted. “On the plus side, I’m refueled to the top. On the downside, I’ve got a woody like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Micah . . .” Arturo growled.
With a laugh, Micah turned his mount with a wave. “I’ll find you.” Then he disappeared into the dark.
Arturo retrieved their mounts, then hovered over her as she reached for the reins. “He did not take too much?”
“I don’t think so. I feel fine.” To prove her point, she swung up into the saddle without any trouble. “That was . . . rather embarrassing.” And more intriguing than she wanted to admit.
“We are vampires, Quinn. We are Emoras. Blood, pleasure, fear . . . we must feed.”
“I know.” She sighed. “I know.”
They continued on until a large stone wall came into view on the hill in the distance. “Is that it?”
“It is. Do not forget your role, tesoro.”
“I won’t screw this up, Vampire. Not in that way, at least.”
“I usually feel when the magic begins to claim you, but tell me early, yes? And I will try to help you keep it in check.”
She glanced at him. “How?”
A smile claimed his mouth, leaping into his dark eyes, stealing her breath. “Distraction.”
Quinn laughed. “I’m sure.”
His smile softened. “How I like the sound of your laughter.” Slowly, that smile of his died, his expression turning serious. “If you are in danger, do whatever you must to protect yourself. If you have to use your magic, do so. It is better for you to be revealed than harmed.”
Quinn nodded. “All right. But I’m not leaving until Vintry frees my magic.”
Arturo eyed her thoughtfully, then nodded. As they neared the gates, he glanced at her. “Are you ready?”
Quinn swallowed. “Sure. What can go wrong?”
Their gazes met, the knowledge leaping between them with chilling resonance.
Anything. Everything.
Chapter Sixteen
As Quinn and Arturo rode closer to the stone wall, to the stronghold of yet another vampire master, Quinn’s tension mounted, and the shiver that went through her had little to do with the cool temperature of the air. Fabian Neptune was a pleasure-feeder, not a pain-feeder like Cristoff, though she wasn’t sure that was much comfort. Especially given the fact that Arturo hadn’t wanted her anywhere near this place.
She glanced at Arturo. “Do none of you feed on happiness? On love or joy?”
“Some do, but it makes them no kinder, cara. I knew a vampire once who required the joy of children. She hid in the shadows feeding from their giggling laughter, then snatched them up and sucked the blood from their bodies.”
“All of it?” Quinn asked, horrified.
“Too much for them to survive.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Yes. She was a vampire with no heart and little conscience. A monster, no matter how she fed. Feeding on joy did not make her good any more than Bram’s need for pain makes him a monster.”
She’d met Bram on her first visit to Gonzaga Castle. A good friend of Arturo’s, he’d spent most of his time in the real D.C. as an emergency-room surgeon, healing humans even as he fed from their agony. He’d been visiting V.C. the night Blackstone’s trap sprung and was now trapped, unable to return to his job or to the life he desired. He’d been a man in torment when she’d met him, forced to feed on the torture his master, Cristoff, preferred.
“This place is in the middle of nowhere,” she murmured. “Northeast D.C.?”
“Yes.”
They grew silent as they rode up the dirt track to the huge wall where two guards stood, dressed in black, armed with what appeared to be semiautomatic assault weapons. For the werewolves or other vampires?
“Arturo Mazza requests an audience with Fabian Neptune,” Arturo said formally, pulling up two dozen feet away from the armed men.
Quinn pulled up behind him like the good little Slava she was pretending to be. The walls of this place had to be thirty feet high. Maybe forty. Atop stood two more armed vamps.
“State your business,” one of the guards called down.
“Diplomatic in nature,” Arturo replied. “I have news of the sorceress.”
No one replied, but a quick look up revealed that the one who’d asked the question was no longer there. For several minutes, nothing happened. And there was no peering in. The two wide gates within the rock walls appeared to be solid steel.
One of those gates began to swing open. The guard from the wall stood in the opening and motioned them in. “Fabian wishes to see you.”
As they knew he would.
Arturo’s horse moved forward without any visible signal on Arturo’s part. Quinn’s horse followed. As they cleared the gates, she stared at the structure rising before her. As big as Gonzaga Castle, it looked like a freaking wedding cake. The curved walls were white stucco, the levels in three distinct tiers, smaller as they rose. Each of the upper floors was ringed in intricate and
swirling banisters lit by the torches standing in regular intervals around the whole.
The windows, instead of glass, appeared to be cut crystal. Even the front door appeared made with crystal panels. It must weigh a ton. Then again, a vampire could probably lift a ton.
“Wow,” Quinn breathed.
“Fabian enjoys the finer things,” Arturo replied quietly.
That was one way to put it.
At the base of the steps, Arturo dismounted, and Quinn followed. A Slava ran toward them to take their horses, and the guard led them up what appeared to be cut-crystal steps and into a foyer that was a fairyland of sparkling light. The foyer’s massive chandelier supported no fewer than five dozen lit candles.
The floor, mosaic tiles in whites and golds, depicted . . . Quinn’s eyes widened . . . a thoroughly pornographic scene. She cocked her head, trying to see it from a better angle. Was that position even possible? Tearing her gaze away, she admired the walls covered in gold-leafed flowering vines.
A wide stair rose from the foyer, fanning out as it went up, the steps crystal, the railings pure gold draped in filmy white ribbons. On either side sat beautiful fountains tinkling with water. Though the room certainly didn’t run to her personal tastes, she could not deny it was a feast for the eyes.
The guard led them through the archway to the right and into a room of color and beauty. Yards and yards of white silk draped the windows and walls, which, considering the likelihood of spilled blood, didn’t seem like the wisest decorating choice for a nest of vampires. But she didn’t see any stains. The fixtures here, as in the foyer, were all crystal and gold. Flickering candles sat in hurricane glasses lining a shelf that ran around the entire room, some eight feet high. Large silk chaises in bright pastel prints lined every wall though most remained empty. There were flowers everywhere, filling vases, scattered on the chaises and the floors, their fragrance perfuming the air.
A bright blue mat covered the floor in the large pit in the center of the room, reminding her of the kind of springy mat she used to spar on in her Tae Kwon Do dojo. Behind the mat, the room rose several steps to a chaise that appeared to be made of pure gold, covered in black velvet. And on that chaise, lounged a man.
Pamela Palmer - [Vamp City 02] Page 17