by Callie Rose
Which is shitty of the vamps, but excellent for me. It gives me an easy way to blend in and not draw attention.
I try the look on as I gaze at my reflection in a small mirror hanging on a corridor wall. Vacant, unfocused eyes. Dreamy smile. Limp, listless arms. Loose legs. Looks like I just got fucked hard and put up wet.
Good.
A shiver runs through me as the memory of Rome’s touch fills my senses, but I don’t force it back like I usually would. That’s the feeling, right there. That’s the authenticity I need to get away with this.
I begin a spiral search pattern, looking for any weaknesses in the defenses. I’ve done plenty of recon on their lair from above ground, so I slowly start connecting what I’ve seen on the surface to what I’m now glimpsing below.
I finally figure out where all those smoke stacks on the surface are coming from—it’s the vampires’ various industries. Kitchens and smitheries and things I can’t even guess at, nor do I want to. I wander into the kitchen at one point with that idiot smile plastered on my face and look up one of the pipes. It’s at least forty feet tall, but only about fourteen inches across.
A tight fit, but not impossible. The problem is that down here, near the stoves and ovens, it’s hot enough to make waves in the air around it—not to mention the crisscrossing metal grates every five feet or so. That’s one hope dashed.
“Come on, girl. Out with you. You’re not allowed in here.”
The head cook chases me out of the kitchen with more patience than I would’ve expected, muttering about bubble-headed tributes, and I wander away.
Guards are posted at every intersection during the day, and they wander around their designated areas, always alert. Some of them snicker as I stumble by, giving each other looks I would expect to see on middle-school boys. Jesus. I guess being immortal means you never have to grow up.
Eventually, on one of my not-so-random wrong turns, I discover where the deliveries come in. It’s a set of stairs a lot like the ones we came down when we were first brought into the palace, and at least half a dozen guards patrol the hallways around it. If I could ambush the guards, I might be able to use that as an escape route, but it’d be dicey.
That’s about as far as I’m able to get before dinner. I don’t even realize how much time has passed until Anastasyia finds me in the hallway and snags my elbow, pulling me after her. I quickly realize that she’s rounding all of the tributes up like a mother hen, and I hurry through the corridors after her as she gathers the pack of girls.
Jessica slips up beside me, her hazel eyes wide as she nudges me with her elbow.
“Where were you?” she asks. “I thought that horrible James killed you.”
I shudder. “No, he didn’t . But not for lack of trying. Lack of skill, maybe.”
She lets out a short, humorless laugh, but then her expression sobers. “He could bond with you, you know. Or me, or any of us. God, can you imagine being bound to him? All that brutality, all the time.” She wraps her arms around herself and shudders. “And a magical element that makes you want it. Ugh.”
“They aren’t all like him,” I tell her, trying to sound comforting. “Some of them are… nice.”
She shoots me a suspicious look, looking equal parts shocked and horrified. “You sound like Winona.”
“Ouch. Take it back,” I say with a grin. “Before I start pointing out obvious shit like it’s some scandalous discovery. If I start stealing that signature move from her, then you’ll know I’ve really lost it.”
Jessica grins as we both pick up our pace a little to keep from getting too far behind the pack. We walk in silence for a moment, then she shakes her head. “I’m really afraid of him.”
“Well yeah, you should be.” I squeeze her hand. “Just avoid him at all costs.”
“How?”
I shrug. “Do it like Elise does, or hell, even Winona. She might be a bitch, but she’s not a dumb bitch. Flirt with someone more powerful than—what’s-his-name.”
I know the fucker’s name. There’s no way I’ll ever forget it. But there’s also no way I’ll say it unless I absolutely have to.
Jessica snorts, looking a little less pallid and terrified than she did this morning. “So, basically everybody?”
“Exactly. The world is your oyster. Or… the underground is your brothel, or something. I don’t know, I’m not good with analogies.”
She chuckles softly, and the sound bursts a bubble of stress in my chest, sending relief coursing through me. I didn’t know I was so worried about her until just now. Just another complication to add to my never-ending list of complications, dammit. But I don’t really mind. With Winona playing mean girl and trying to push people around, and the rest of the girls mostly looking out for themselves, Jessica needs a friend in her corner—even if I am temporary.
Anastasyia leads us all back to the tribute wing and gives us twenty minutes to dress, reminding us to take advantage of the provided wardrobe and choose something beautiful.
I choose a gown that’s gauzy and gossamer, with thin layers of lace in the skirt and a beaded bodice with a small strap that crosses over one shoulder. There’s a split at my left leg that shows glimpses of my thighs and calves as the fabric billows lightly with every step. The entire thing is a very pale blue, so light that it’s almost white. It’s different than anything I’ve worn before, but I sort of like how it seems a bit incongruous with the rest of this place. I like not fitting in here.
Our matron is waiting for us when we step out of our rooms, and once the stragglers join our little group, she leads the way through the labyrinthine hallways back toward the great hall.
“Is this another celebration?” I ask as we step into the massive room. The band is onstage again, the dance floor polished to a blinding sheen, and there are fresh flowers everywhere. The high table is full of vampires—Elders and other important members of the court, presumably—and Bastian already has a girl in his lap.
“Oh, they get like this almost every night,” Elise says, turning to look back at me. “They like to live like they’re dying, because they never will.”
That’s what they think, I muse darkly.
One of these days, after I figure out how to get Nathan out of here, I’m going to use everything I’ve learned about them to wipe this whole place off the face of the earth.
I’m fairly certain at this point that our hosts aren’t poisoning the food. That vampiress who served us last night was right; it wouldn’t make sense to taint the herd before they’re eaten. Besides, I’m starving. It’s not from the walk around the palace—that wasn’t nearly enough exercise to get me feeling this way. It’s probably because I didn’t eat much last night, and my breakfast was interrupted before I could finish.
That, and the fact that two vampires fed on me today.
I suppress a shudder at the thought of how much blood I’ve lost and take my seat. Unlike last night, I demolish every plate as fast as they can bring it to me, paying no attention to looking pretty while I do it. I can sit down and eat two large pizzas on my own after a tough hunt, so these fancy little dishes are nothing.
When I finally bother to glance up from my meal, I find Winona looking at me with thinly-veiled horror. I ignore her, but she gets more and more theatric about it until finally, exasperated, she bursts out with, “Oh my god. Do you need another fork?”
I pause with my mouth full, looking at her thoughtfully. “Sure. Give me yours, since you’re not using it. What’s the matter, didn’t work up an appetite today?”
Her face flushes, and she falls silent, letting me go back to my food in peace. Jessica chuckles quietly, hiding a grin behind her hand. Gretchen is grinning too, but she’s not bothering to hide it.
“Any of your royals take an interest in you yet, Winona?” she asks, still smirking.
Winona sniffs and turns up her nose. “I told you, it’s only a matter of time. Patience is a virtue, you know.”
I’m about to dig i
nto my food again, second fork or no, when the hair on the back of my neck stands up.
There’s a vampire approaching. I can feel him.
My spine stiffens as I glance around surreptitiously. From the corner of my eye, I can see a huge, rough-looking vampire striding toward our table. His gaze is focused on me, and the expression on his broad face is hungry.
Fear washes through me as memories of this morning fill my head. He’s coming to feed on me, I’m sure of it, just like James did this morning.
Okay, think, Mikka.
James could have killed me, but Rome stopped him. If I don’t let this big guy take me out of the ballroom, Rome might intervene again. If I do let him take me out, maybe I could find a stray stake or something lying around. Fat chance.
Before I can talk myself into pulling a Buffy in the bathroom, someone else steps up to the table, blocking the big vampire from my sight. I glance up and allow myself a small, relieved smile as I take in Connor’s familiar face. His blond hair is messier than usual, and his amber eyes gleam like warm honey in the light from the chandeliers.
“Might I have this dance, fair lady?” he asks in an over-the-top formal voice that almost sounds British, holding his hand out with a flourish.
“Why of course, good sir.”
I grin at him, mimicking his voice. Pushing my almost-finished plate away, I lift my hand to his and let him twirl me out of my chair.
It wasn’t hard to accept his offer. I tell myself that I simply prefer the devil I know—but deep down, I have to admit that I enjoy Connor’s attention. I enjoy Connor. He makes me feel almost normal, and in a place like this, that’s like finding water in the fucking desert.
Still, knowing that nothing and no one in this place is truly what they seem, I can’t help but feel like his sweet face and gentle optimism have to be an illusion.
Like it’s just a matter of time until the other shoe drops.
The next week passes faster than I would like. I spend as much of every day as I can wandering the corridors of the palace, breaking up my recon with time spent in the great hall or the small lounge in the female tributes’ wing with the other girls. I know I have to be seen doing other things to avoid drawing attention or suspicion as I search for a way out, but every minute that I’m not mapping out the palace feels like wasted time.
When we first arrived, Anastasyia said that the bonding ceremony was set to take place in a few weeks, so the clock is ticking. I have hope that neither Nathan nor I would be chosen by a vampire to become their blood-bonded human, but I don’t like to rely on things like hope.
Which means I need to get us out of here before the ceremony happens.
I haven’t found a way out yet, despite the hours I’ve spent searching. It’s starting to look like I’m going to have to fight or talk my way out of here—both foolish, neither likely to succeed. But there are still some parts of the palace I haven’t seen yet, so maybe there’s a route I haven’t discovered yet. The sprawling palace bleeds into the old underground, and as such, it’s filled with dead ends and random doorways that lead to nowhere.
Dinner every evening is a grand production, with dancing and music and a million courses. And every evening, Connor asks me to dance.
He’s done the same thing each night since I first arrived, asking me to dance but never touching his fangs to me. I’m glad for the buffer between me and the other hungry vampires, who seem to be getting increasingly irritated that I’m never available. It’s become a bit of a race to get to my table when dinner begins every night, but I pretend not to notice.
Tonight, Connor beats three vampires to my table to ask me to dance. I haven’t even finished my salad yet, but I’m not about to argue. Still, my curiosity is getting the better of me.
I wait until he’s twirled me to the far side of the dance floor, where the music from the band will hide my voice and I’ll be too far away for anybody to read my lips.
“Why do you always ask me to dance?” I ask him once we’re finally there.
He shrugs and gives me a lopsided grin. “Need the practice. Wouldn’t want to smash down some three-hundred-year-old woman’s toes, right? Gotta practice with someone young and sturdy enough to take the abuse.”
He winks at me, his eyes sparkling, but I level him with a skeptical look. I don’t buy for a second that he’s doing this just for the practice, and I let my disbelief etch itself all over my face.
Connor’s grin fades, and he looks away, gazing out over the crowd of vampires milling around and between tribute tables. When he turns his face back to me, there’s a somberness to his gaze I haven’t seen in him before.
“It keeps you busy,” he says quietly. “Keeps the others from feeding on you.”
I fight against a frown. That doesn’t make sense. He sounds almost protective, but that can’t be right. All the vampires do the same thing, don’t they?
They all feed on humans. It’s part of the whole deal. Technically, any of them could feed on me anytime, and a few of them have if they manage to find me during the day, although I do my best to keep moving around and make myself scarce if there are any vamps around. Connor must feed on blood too, although I’ve never seen him drink from anyone during the feasts that take place nightly.
Is he possessive then, maybe? He wants to keep me for himself?
But that doesn’t make sense either, since he’s never so much as tried to kiss my neck.
“Why haven’t you fed from me?” I ask abruptly. Too abruptly, I realize, as the tips of his ears turn pink.
He glances down at me without answering, his golden eyes warm. He looks almost shy. No, I decide as his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks for a moment—he definitely looks shy.
His gaze roves over my face for a moment, and then he pulls me a little closer, too close for a proper waltz.
“Would you like that?” he murmurs in my ear. “Do you want me to?”
My stomach flips. What the fuck? No, of course I don’t.
But… yes.
Some part of me does want it. The part that the prince and Rome both tapped into somehow, the part of me that craves their touch like a suicidal cow being led to the slaughter. My breath is raspy, and I can feel Connor responding—half aroused, half timid, like he doesn’t know if I’m turned on or afraid of him.
I’m not afraid of him, I know that much for sure. I also know that I’m supposed to be playing the role of an eager tribute, so my feelings don’t really matter anyway.
Dragging in a breath, I bite my lip and nod. It’s a mistake to meet his eyes as I do, because they darken with a blazing heat, and something in my body responds to it.
Changing course slightly, Connor dances me to the edge of the floor, then tucks my arm in his—a clumsy imitation of a classic gesture, but still kind of nice—and leads me through the crowd toward the large doors on one side of the room.
As we pass Nathan’s table, I can’t help stealing a quick peek at my brother. He’s been much better about not looking at me or acknowledging me in public, and I do my best to ignore him too so that no one will realize we know each other, but I can’t help worrying about him.
He’s looking a bit better, the dark circles beneath his eyes fading a little, and I let out a relieved breath. Maybe the remnants of whatever drugs he was on are finally out of his system.
But even as I feel that weight lifting off my chest, I notice a female vampire crossing the room toward my brother with a ravenous, seductive look on her face. My stomach twists itself into knots all over again.
He may be clean, but he’s still not safe.
Chapter Fifteen
We step out into the quiet corridor, and I do my best to shake off the parting image of the brunette bloodsucker making a beeline for Nathan.
Connor leads me a little way down the hall, looking as nervous and excited as a kid on prom night. Part of me wants to reassure him, which is stupid. What kind of vampire needs reassurance before he bites somebody?
&
nbsp; Then again, what kind of vampire uses his food for dancing lessons? I might just have to accept that Connor isn’t your average vamp.
I brace myself against the wall but smile at him.
Dammit all, I’m not his girlfriend, I’m his food.
But his breath catches in his throat as he licks his lips, and I can’t look away from his gaze. His hands tremble slightly as he cups my face, turning my head aside to expose my throat. His breath is hot and fast on my skin. Jesus, I feel like I’m deflowering a virgin. I never have known how to feel about that.
His lips linger lightly on my neck, right at my pulse. He kisses me softly and flicks his tongue against my skin—not like he’s tasting it, but like he’s feeling it. He’s still so close to being human, it isn’t fucking fair. It’s too easy for me to pretend this is something it isn’t.
My body is already buzzing with heat and adrenaline, but Connor hesitates, moving his mouth over me with agonizing slowness. I can’t tell if he’s teasing me or if he’s working up his nerve. Either way, the waiting is beginning to fray my nerves.
I put my hands on his back, just over his hips, and press my body close to his. His breath deepens as he relaxes, and then I feel them—his sharp fangs scraping over my skin. Anticipation makes my stomach clench and my knees weak, and I grab him a little harder for support. His breath quickens again, but he’s not hesitating anymore.
His teeth pierce my skin, more painful than Rome but far less so than James. He pauses after he’s in and just… holds me. I allow myself to be comforted by his touch, his nearness, the barrier of him between me and the world—even though he’s doing what the rest of the vampires would do if he gave them the chance.