Forbidden Blood (Vampire Venators Romance Series)

by Heaton, Felicity

  Even Kearn thought she was crazy for suggesting they go to the masquerade. That had to be the reason he hadn’t said a word all evening. He hadn’t even complimented her when she had walked out of his bedroom in her ball gown. His eyes had remained cold and impassive. She had mentioned how handsome he looked and he had merely holstered his gun at his hip, covered it with his black mid-thigh length military-style jacket, and turned away towards the door.

  He did look handsome though. No. He was gorgeous.

  The black jacket had a double set of bright silver buttons down the breast, and silver-blue embroidery around the hem, cuffs and the tall collar. The thick material didn’t conceal his physique. It stretched tight across his chest, emphasising his muscles. The finger-length silver strands of his hair brushed the collar at the back and by his ears, almost white against the contrast of black.

  She looked across at him as he drove. They were heading out of central London, towards the suburbs. He changed gear and her gaze fell to his legs. They looked lithe but powerful in his tight black trousers that were tucked into black over-knee riding boots with bright shiny buckles.

  The woman at the club had worn something similar. Was this Kearn’s uniform? If human police wore such a thing, even more women would be falling over each other to get to them.

  The car slowed and she faced front. Her heart pounded at the sight of the huge black wrought iron gates opening ahead of her and the massive sandstone house beyond. It was beautiful, impressive with the façade lit and every window on all three storeys emanating a warm glow. With the long corseted black dress she wore, Kearn in his uniform, and this house, she felt as though she had fallen back in time to a period when the rich threw balls full of ladies and gentlemen, like the romantic dramas on the television.

  Kearn parked the car at the end of a row of sombre-coloured Bentleys and Rolls-Royces and flashy black sports cars.

  Amber followed him out of the car. The golden gravel crunched under her black heeled shoes. She stood with her black gloved arm on the roof of Kearn’s car and tried to take it all in. A large fountain stood in the centre of the courtyard, the water lit with the same warm lights as the house and flowing like molten gold. She had never felt so out of place. She had never imagined that vampires would live in a place like this. She had always thought they would live wherever they could, hiding in the shadows and stalking humans, like monsters, not that they would lead grand lives and be rich and powerful.

  A couple walked past them.

  And beautiful.

  They both wore black and were talking and laughing just like people, only she could see a difference in them. The way they held themselves, tall and proud, posture perfect, set them apart from anyone she knew. They emanated a sense of nobility, of grace and power.

  The brunette smiled at the man, her dark eyes melting into red, and placed a slim black mask across them. He smiled back at her, adjusting the mask so it settled over her eyes and tightly fitted her delicate features. He slipped his own mask on and preened his short sandy hair back.

  “Countess Huntingdon and Marquess Pendragon.” Kearn’s voice was pure darkness.

  Countess Huntingdon? Amber knew that name from Kearn’s book. Could someone so beautiful really be so bloodthirsty?

  When she turned to ask Kearn, he was staring at her dress. He had chosen well this time. She had expected him to buy her another ridiculous outfit, but it was glamorous and refined, elegant enough to make her feel as though she might fit in at the ball. The straps of the black satin corset were ribbon, tied at her shoulders, with tails that flowed down her back, tickling her. The long skirt almost reached the floor, cut in such a way that it didn’t cling to her legs but still gave away their shape.

  She had tied her hair up, twisting the lengths into a messy gathering at the back of her head, and had surrounded her eyes in dark make-up while painting her lips red.

  When she had stepped in front of the mirror in Kearn’s bathroom, her reflection had been exactly how she imagined a vampire looked—all sensual and seductive. She felt that way, especially now that Kearn’s eyes were roaming over her body and leaving a hot trail in their wake. She kept still, not wanting his attention to leave her.

  “You should take your hair down.” His gaze touched on her throat and red ringed his irises.

  Amber shook her head. Her neck wasn’t on show to get the vampire’s attention, or anyone’s at the ball. It was to get Kearn’s attention and it was working. She wanted him to want her. She wanted to lure him to her and have him kiss her again. She wanted his eyes on her and her alone tonight.

  With so many vampires around, he would be distracted from her and would perhaps speak with some of them. It was selfish and childish of her, but she wanted him all to herself.

  Kearn turned away and started towards the house. Amber hastened after him and fell into step beside him. Had she upset him by refusing his suggestion? No. He had been quiet since last night.

  Amber tried to feel his emotions but wasn’t sure how it worked. Before, she had felt things without even trying. Now, she was trying her hardest but she couldn’t detect anything. Had the strange connection between their blood ended, or was he somehow blocking her attempts?

  The bright foyer of the mansion was stunning. Gold candelabras lined the twin white marble staircases curving up in front of her towards a balcony and a massive crystal chandelier hung in the open space above her.

  “Sir, I will need to see your licence.”

  Amber looked over at Kearn. He was with a man at the bottom of the left staircase. The vampire couple were near the top. The woman was walking very delicately, lifting the skirt of her dress with one hand and holding the man’s arm with the other. He was still smiling and talking.

  Kearn reached into the collar of his jacket and pulled out something on a silver chain. Amber couldn’t see it clearly. The man blocking his way nodded and stepped aside. Amber hurried over to Kearn and glanced at the man. He wore a black tailcoat like a butler. There had been men outside in similar outfits. Staff? She supposed a house this big would need staff. Was he human or did some vampires work for other ones? That completely shattered her image of vampires. Did some of them have jobs? She supposed that Kearn did, although it seemed more like a calling than a profession. Before she had met him, she had thought that vampires would all be out for themselves, looking after number one, rather than serving others or caring for them. The idea that they had families would have seemed ridiculous. She had so much to learn about Kearn’s world. Every moment she spent in it challenged her perspective of things and changed her forever.

  She followed Kearn up the stairs. There was so much to take in and think about that it pushed her fear to the back of her mind, leaving only excitement filling her.

  The vampire couple stopped at the top of the stairs. Another couple in front of them walked through a wide arch and disappeared from view on the other side. The sound of the orchestra and choir sent a shiver over Amber’s skin and made her fine hairs stand on end. It was beautiful. Amber ran her black gloved hand up the bright brass railing of the staircase and looked into the foyer below. More vampires were following them, all wearing black. Laughter rang out from one group and she recognised one of the vampires from the club. Her heart beat quicker at the reminder that any of the men here could be the one after her blood. It snapped her back to reality. Her fascination with this new world and her breathtaking surroundings had made her forget why she was here.

  Kearn’s stern look said that he hadn’t forgotten. His green gaze was on the group below them. The man was staring back at him, an equally dark expression on his face.

  Amber moved closer to Kearn. He stopped at the top of the stairs and glanced at her. There was a flicker of something in his eyes that she couldn’t quite interpret. Nerves? Fear? Worry? All she could feel were her own anxiety and excitement.

  “Is it tradition for everyone to wear black?” She hadn’t seen one person wearing another colour.

/>   “Duke Montagu declared that his ball this year would be a midnight masquerade.” Kearn adjusted the collar of his black military-style jacket. “Every year has a colour.”

  “Marquess Pendragon and Countess Huntingdon.” A loud voice echoed up from the other room and the vampire couple at the top walked forwards. The man held his hand out, palm down, and the woman laid hers on top of it.

  They were announcing the guests?

  Amber swallowed. They didn’t know her name. Would they even announce someone like her? Everyone would probably stare if they did.

  “What happened back there with the servant?” she whispered to Kearn, remembering the licence the man had asked for.

  “My appearance is not enough to confirm me as a Venator.” He unclipped the stand-up collar of his black jacket and pulled out a small silver medal on a chain. She didn’t have a chance to see it properly before he was putting it away again. “I need to show my licence to prove my status and to allow me entrance to this sort of affair where so many important people are gathered.”

  No emotion touched his voice and he didn’t look at her. His green gaze remained focused on the entrance to the other room.

  For a brief moment, she caught a glimmer of his feelings.

  Nerves.

  For some reason, that unsettled her.

  Why was he nervous?

  She forced herself to focus on something else. Would his family be on the other side? He had said he was of noble blood. Kyran was sure to be there. She couldn’t imagine him missing something like this.

  Amber looked back down the stairs. The group she had seen enter were all masked now. She didn’t have a mask and neither did Kearn. He had said they wouldn’t need one but everyone else was wearing them.

  She turned to see Kearn standing near the arch glaring at her and hurried forwards, almost tripping on her dress.

  “Do not say a word,” he said when she reached him and she heard the nerves in his voice now. “Do not speak unless spoken to, do not stare, control your emotions as much as possible and remain close to me.”

  Amber glanced through the arch at the room beyond and her breath left her. Golden tones lit the expansive rectangular room stretching out below her, warming the dark red walls and reflecting off the ceiling height mirrors that lined the walls between equally tall windows. The choir rose with the orchestra and her heart fluttered. It was incredible. In the centre of the room, a river of black dancers moved at a swift pace, all of them in perfect synchronisation as though choreographed. More people lined the edges of the room, some walking around and others gathered in groups. She had never seen anything like it.

  Kearn grabbed her arm and yanked her forwards.

  “Pay attention,” he hissed beneath his breath and she fell into line beside him at the top of the wide red-carpeted staircase that swept down into the ballroom. He let go of her arm and straightened his jacket out.

  He wasn’t the only one nervous now. Her heart jumped around all over the place and she tried to calm it but couldn’t. Her throat was parched. She needed a drink. Something alcoholic, and strong.

  The servant at the top of the stairs raised an eyebrow at her and then turned to face the room. She glanced to her right, at Kearn, and he titled his chin up. He looked so noble and handsome, proud and powerful like the Marquess Pendragon. She wanted to look that way too so the vampires would see they weren’t the only ones who could do beautiful and graceful.

  She raised her head, faced forwards, and took a deep breath.

  Kearn’s words echoed in her head like a mantra. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Don’t stare. Don’t let her feelings get the better of her.

  “Venator Savernake!” the man to her left announced.

  Amber expected Kearn to offer his arm. He didn’t. He walked down the stairs at a slow pace and she followed unsteadily on trembling legs, her ankles wobbling in the heeled shoes. It was impossible to calm her nerves.

  The entire room had stopped.

  A sea of red eyes stared at her from behind black masks and she felt their hatred deep within her.

  She held it together and kept walking. Vampires waited at the bottom of the stairs, their eyes boring into her. Her hand twitched, tempted to touch her bare throat and cover it. She felt exposed and vulnerable. This was the craziest idea she’d ever had and something said that she was going to pay for it with her own blood.

  “You said they wouldn’t stare at me,” she whispered.

  “They are not looking at you.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Amber looked at Kearn and then at the vampires. He was right. They were all staring at him with murder in their eyes and she could feel their hatred. Why hadn’t he told her they would treat him this way? She wouldn’t have insisted they come if she had known.

  They reached the bottom of the stairs and Kearn stopped. A blond man stood in his path. Marquess Pendragon.

  Kearn bowed his head and the man grinned, revealing the sharp points of his canines. His flinty gaze shifted to her. Amber bowed too, afraid of making the situation worse, and the marquess walked away.

  Kearn kept his head bowed.

  She didn’t like seeing him so humble.

  The room began to move again but their eyes were still on her. Kearn straightened and walked towards the right side of the ballroom. The people parted before him, keeping their distance, watching him pass with disgust. Her gaze fixed on his back and she wished she could see his eyes because she couldn’t sense his feelings and it felt as though he was closing his heart again. Why?

  Was it these people and the way they treated him? She had expected them to act like friends and acquaintances but they were behaving like the enemy. Was it all because he was a Venator or did they have another reason to hate him?

  A sense of menace hung over the lavish red and gold ballroom. It hadn’t been there before they had announced Kearn. An air of excitement had prevailed then. Even the large orchestra and choir that lined the room beneath the balcony hadn’t drowned out the chatter and laughter. She had seen the smiles on the faces of the dancers. They were gone now, replaced by narrowed eyes behind black masks and low spoken conversations that she knew were about her and Kearn.

  Kearn stopped near one of the full height mirrors and turned towards her, his expression grim. The reflection of the room in the mirror made her feel as though a thousand people surrounded her, all staring her way. Kearn’s way.

  Everyone near them swept away, heads held high and whispering to each other.

  A wide ring of open floor grew around them, the vampires lining it watching her with contempt, and Amber felt even more in the spotlight than ever.

  What had Kearn done to deserve such a reception?

  Amber spotted Kyran surrounded by a group of women and men. She could recognise him even with his mask. He looked so much like Kearn. She smiled and he turned his back on her. Her smile fell away. Even Kearn’s own brother wouldn’t associate with him in front of these people. Her gaze shifted to Kearn. He stood with his eyes downcast now, his chin lowered, and it hurt her to see him so dejected. She wanted to talk to him, needed to say something to lift his spirits and let him know that not everyone in the room was looking on him with hatred burning in their eyes. Whatever he had done, it didn’t deserve such a callous reception or such cruel treatment. He didn’t deserve to suffer it, especially not from his brother. She went to touch Kearn’s hand but he moved it out of reach. Didn’t he want her to touch him? She only wanted to comfort him. Her eyes sought his and he looked at the mirror. Perhaps tonight had been a mistake. If she had known that it would be like this, she would have made him stay away instead.

  Amber moved around him, stepping into his line of sight.

  Kearn’s green eyes finally met hers and the loneliness in them echoed deep within her heart.

  She reached out to him and then paused.

  A murmur ran through the crowd, growing in volume until the music died, replaced by the confident swift click of
heels on the parquet floor. A tall man was heading towards her. The fine gold detailing on his black thigh-length jacket and tall boots, and the way the vampires parted for him, bowing their heads, spoke of standing and power. His long black ponytail made her think of the vampire but this man was taller and looked more heartless than the one after her. His red eyes glowed from behind his black mask, narrowed on Kearn’s back, a hard edge to them.

  Kearn turned and dropped to one knee before the man, lowering his head and pressing his right hand to his chest.

  The man stopped and ran his gaze over her. Everything about him radiated power—the way he held himself, the way he looked at her, and the way he made her feel inferior without even trying.

  She wasn’t sure what to do.

  Kearn’s silver hair had fallen forwards to mask his face and she was too afraid to get his attention. He hadn’t mentioned anything about a situation like this.

  She went to bow.

  “No.” The man’s deep voice sent a chill tumbling down her spine. She froze with her head only slightly dipped and looked up at him through her lashes. “Such grace does not need to stoop and bow before me. Only those beneath me should lower themselves to be there.”

  Amber glanced at Kearn. Beneath him? This man might be superior amongst his peers, but Kearn was a Venator and a Noble. Surely, they were on the same level in society?

  The man removed his mask, revealing his slim face. It had a cruel edge to it when he smiled. He was older than Kearn by at least twenty years. Was that his reason for acting superior?

  “I do not know why this Venator has dared to attend my ball, but if it is with the sole intention of presenting you to society, then I will accept his presence… if you will dance with me.” The man extended his hand to her.

  She didn’t want to take it. Everything in her screamed that this man was dangerous. He frowned, clearly displeased. It was his ball. He had a right to dance with whomever he wanted and she was sure that she should be flattered and accept but she didn’t want to dance with him.