“I’m happy I could be of assistance.”
“Though I have to say, I’m surprised you decided to throw this party after what happened with the Sergheev coven. I couldn’t help but notice the lack of the guards your property is exhibiting.”
“It’s a fortress. It survived for hundreds of years, it will survive a few more.”
Beauviers regarded him with cold eyes. “Careful, or some might think you had something to do with the massacre back in Russia.”
“What…? How..? No..?” De Nemours stuttered. Was Charles suspecting something?
“Rumor has it you have a wizard at your command.” Jacques gaped at the elder. I’ve been betrayed. His mind reeled, trying to find the culprit. “Nothing more than gossip, I’m sure.”
It was clearly a warning. No mistaking the tone or the gleaming in those cold, black eyes. The hairs on the back of De Nemours’s neck prickled.
“In a thousand or so years one tends to gather lots of enemies. And our kind tends to gossip worse than old spinsters at church.”
“True.” The quick dismissal seemed even more dangerous. “But usually if one knows one has enemies, one might try to protect oneself. Guards might be a good start. Unless one has a different means of protection. Like a wizard. Or maybe one’s not afraid because one knows there’s nothing for oneself to worry about.”
A shiver ran down De Nemours’ spine at the not so veiled jab. What did Beauviers know? Did he known about the wizard? But it couldn’t be, because otherwise, Beauviers wouldn’t have braced the subject. He would have come straight for De Nemours’ head, not fish around.
Two of his vampires entered, wheeling in large carts filled with bagged blood, and De Nemours took advantage of the distraction to escape Beauviers. He walked up to the stage, waved at the musicians to dismiss them, and clapped his hands to command everyone’s attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served. I took the liberty of bringing young ladies and men for your pleasure. Or, if you prefer, we have also bagged. Any blood types you want. Feel free to take your pick. Or, if you prefer, we have also bagged. Any blood types you want.”
The crowd stirred as the donors started mingling.
* * * *
Shawn watched the guests arriving from his hiding place in a dark corner of the garden. He watched through half-lidded eyes, careful not to let his presence be known, measuring each of them as a potential opponent.
The last of the guests had disappeared behind heavy oak doors, the limos had finally been parked, and a single vampire took up guarding duty near the entrance. Only then did Shawn move. He crept up to the back of the building, hoping for a way in. There were trees of all sizes, and few of them were close enough to the wall to facilitate his entrance. He circled around them until he settled on one. A big trunk, at least thirty centimeters in diameter, with big enough branches to hold him.
Climbing up the tree came to him naturally, and not even the three-meter gap was much of a challenge. He lunged from one of the lower branches and landed gracefully, though noisily, on a first-floor balcony. Hopefully the noise would be masked by the music coming from inside the house.
He plastered his ear against the windowsill, listening carefully, and decided it was safe to proceed. A small push had the window open and he crept inside, his senses alert. Once again he marveled at the lack of guards as he crept down the hallway searching for the party.
* * * *
De Nemours had his fangs deeply embedded in the soft flesh of a feisty brunette and his hand buried under her skirt. She moaned in pleasure and the sound reverberated in his mouth. He tore open his pants, buttons flying. She was warm and pliant, and he craved the pleasure her body would provide. He shoved his hands under her skirt again and ripped her panties away. He pushed her against the nearest wall, fangs still embedded in her neck. She tasted pleasant enough, not too sour and not too sweet either. She was just a means to quench his thirst, nothing worth remembering a month from now.
* * * *
The door opened. The vampire on guard flew through the air, landing hard on the floor, and skidded to a stop at Charles Beauviers’s feet. The lord locked eyes with the exotic looking man standing in the doorway. Dark hair, gray-green eyes, smelling like a vampire with an underlay of earth and forest. Shifter. And judging from his posture and the confidence exuding from him he was an alpha. Charles smirked. This was going to be interesting.
One by one the vampires filling the great hall ceased what they were doing and stared at the stranger. The girl under Jacques De Nemours picked up the change in the room and tried to wiggle herself free. The vampire snarled through clenched teeth and tore at the tender flesh under his mouth.
Beauviers cleared his throat. The silence finally registered into De Nemours’s brain and he swirled around, snarling.
Chapter 16
Shawn locked eyes with the first bloodsucker that had been aware of his arrival. He looked plain, somehow geeky, despite the perfectly tailored suit he was wearing. Yet, there was something impressive about him. The bloodsucker smirked and Shawn’s eyebrows shot to the sky before he managed to school his face into a mask of boredom.
He dared taking his eyes away from the vampire and glanced around. The sight socked him. Hundreds of vampires in different states of undress were writhing on the floor or against the walls, feeding or fucking in what seemed to be a full-blown orgy. As if on cue they started taking notice and disentangled from each other. All but one.
The geeky vampire cleared his throat and Shawn’s eyes flew back to him.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I intruding?” He didn’t sound sorry at all. He sounded smug and challenging and very sure of himself.
“My dear De Nemours, how thoughtful of you to organize a hunt for us. You shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble. Really.” The unremarkable vampire turned mockingly to the snarling one, sarcasm heavy in his voice.
“What? My lord, I…”
“I’m not here as prey.”
“Why are you here then, therian?”
Whispers sounded around the room. The crowd shifted menacingly toward Shawn. Why is he not at my throat yet?
“Kill him,” the vampire called De Nemours barked. The crowd took a step forward. Shawn braced himself for the fight that was sure to follow.
“Wait.” The counter-order was given in a much softer tone and it was obeyed immediately. So the unremarkable man held some power in these circles.
At the same time easy steps reverberated through the hallway behind him. Fuck. I’m screwed. Like it made much difference if he’d have to face two hundred and fifty vampires instead of just two hundred.
His survivor instincts kicked in and he shifted so his back was pressed against the open wooden door. The clean scents of forest and earth and freedom assaulted his nostrils and he turned around, startled. One by one, werewolves entered the grand hall and lined up behind him. His friend Andrei, the cute but lethal Dana, and many others. Andrei winked at him and addressed Beauviers.
“Good evening, gentlemen. I couldn’t help myself noticing the complete lack of security this place is exhibiting.”
Smiles spread across some of the bloodsuckers’ faces, as if they found the joke particularly funny.
“This is becoming more interesting by the minute.”
Andrei bowed his head graciously as De Nemours snarled. The master didn’t seem to be enjoying the show as much as the geeky vampire.
“We apologize for interrupting your party. We are here for our friend.” He gestured in Shawn’s direction. “So if you’ll be kind enough to hear him out, we will be on our way.”
The lord turned to the jaguar, motioning him to speak.
“I’m here for my mate.”
“There are no shifters here, kitten.” The elder waved his hand around to point at the entire audience. “Except for your friends, of course.” A few vampires snickered behind his back.
De Nemours seemed to be at a loss of words, staring open m
outhed at the werewolves filling his hallway.
“I don’t remember saying that my mate is a shape-shifter.”
“Human?”
“Vampire.”
“Whoever your mate is, she isn’t here.”
“I can see that. So if you don’t mind, you can send for my mate and we will be on our way.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” De Nemours screamed, his gaze flying back to his lord.
“De Nemours, what are these nice people talking about?”
Shawn couldn’t detect any condescending in the bloodsucker’s tone, so he answered the vampire.
“Valentin, the vampire you snagged from me three days ago. Or your wizard did, to be more specific.”
“You lie!” The vampire’s eyes darted around frantically. “There is no wizard here!”
“Sir.”
The bloodsucker stepped forward and offered Shawn and Andrei a smile.
“I’m Charles Beauviers.” He offered no title, no further clarification. “Please elaborate.”
Shawn obeyed, offering as much information as he could, while keeping the part about the ruby for himself.
Shawn watched the play of emotions on Beauviers face, and the thoughtful expression he found there told him the man was not surprised by what he was hearing. He seemed to be more powerful than De Nemours and Shawn decided to address him.
“Do I strike you as suicidal? Why would I crash a bloodsucker’s party if I didn’t have good reason? Besides, don’t you have means to know if one’s lying?”
“We do.” Invisible feathers brushed against Shawn’s skin and tiny fingers probed his mind, the touch not at all unpleasant. He stared challengingly at Beauviers, guessing correctly that he was the one doing it.
Seconds later, the probing ceased and the elder nodded. “He speaks the truth.”
De Nemours jumped forward and growled.
“You come into my house and accuse me of harboring a wizard? Don’t you know it’s against the law?”
Shawn smiled serenely at him.
“I just want my mate.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” De Nemours seemed to have gathered himself. Shawn sniffed the air. The vampire was afraid of something. Really afraid. Beauviers, on the other hand, was thoroughly enjoying the show. Maybe if Shawn played his cards right he’d walk out of there still wearing his whiskers.
“I think you do.” Andrei leaned to the side and rested his shoulder against the door, crossing his arms over his chest, placing his weight on one leg, the perfect picture of a relaxed, carefree man.
“You will die for this.” De Nemours snarled and lunged.
Beauviers grabbed him midair and settled him back on his feet. Shawn didn’t do as much as flinch.
“You have any proof of this, kitten?”
Shawn shifted back and dug into his clothes. He brought up the torn piece of sweater, and held it up for everyone to see.
“You call that proof? It’s just a cloth.”
“It’s all that was left behind after your boys left with my mate. It’s soaked in Valentin’s blood and it carries the kidnappers’ scent. Your boys. I can smell them all over this place.” Though knowing he shouldn’t, he couldn’t stop himself from baiting De Nemours a little. “Gotta say, your caster did a great job with the snowstorm. If you want to rent out his services, I’m sure he would make you a ton of money.”
Shawn tensed, waiting for the explosion. De Nemours snarled again, but before he managed to go for Shawn’s throat the elder grabbed him by the scruff and held him tight.
“Not so fast. Give the man a chance to prove his words. If he’s lying, he will pay for it. If not…” Everyone in the room could fill in the blanks.
“You cannot trust him. He is a therian. He doesn’t deserve to live. His kind should be wiped from the face of the world.”
“I just want my mate back.” Shawn shed all appearances of relaxation and stood with his fists clenched at his sides, his whole body tensed and ready.
“Die!” De Nemours pulled himself free from the elder’s grip and flung himself at Shawn. Shawn met him full-on.
The vampire went for Shawn’s throat with claws and teeth. Shawn settled for dodging each attack, the two of them dancing around each other. He would have loved nothing more than to tear the bloodsucker to pieces, especially when he was the reason Valentin was missing, but he knew he had to pace himself. De Nemours’s death could be the spark that reignited the long-lasting conflict between their species, and it wouldn’t serve Shawn’s purpose.
De Nemours’s attack was vicious, twice as powerful as any of the previous ones, and it became obvious that the man was a skilled fighter. His movements were a blur of speed and, despite his quick reflexes, Shawn had trouble keeping up. To Shawn’s surprise, none of the vampires tried to stop them.
He wanted to shift, he needed it, the beast inside raging to be set free, but the vampire was too close and in the few seconds it would take for the transformation to occur, the bloodsucker would have the perfect opportunity to take Shawn down. Talons raked across Shawn’s chest so fast he didn’t even see them and the scent of his blood filled the room.
The air exploded between them and the force of it threw both opponents backward. Shawn fell to one knee, breathing hard. The vampire lay on the floor, convulsing. Beauviers stepped between them, not smiling anymore.
“You have some balls, I’ll give you that. If you can convince me your mate is here and that you can keep him, you can have him. If not, you are not walking out of here alive.”
“Keep him? I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
“You didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you? You will have to find him. And when you do, you will have to earn the right to claim him as yours. And none of your friends here can help you.”
“So it’s my life for his.”
“No. It’s both of your lives or neither. You still want to do this? If not, you go now and we will forget it ever happened. But if you choose to stay, your decision is final, and you forfeit any right to change your mind later. So what is it gonna be, kitten?”
Shawn was starting to get uncomfortable. He’d been measured his whole life, sometimes he was found worthy and sometimes not, but this would be the most important test of all.
“I stay. May I ask you a question, my lord?” The elder wasn’t his leader, but it didn’t hurt to show the man the respect his age and rank deserved.
The vampire regarded him with shrewd eyes before agreeing. “You may. I will reserve the right to answer or not. But be careful what you choose to ask. Some questions are more dangerous than others. And for each question you ask, I will get to ask two of you.”
The vampire could ask anything he wanted and Shawn could do nothing else but answer.
“Why do you allow me the chance to get my mate?”
The elder chose his answer carefully, and Shawn knew he wasn’t getting the full truth.
“Because true mates are rare and the bond between them is sacred to my kind. Isn’t it the same in your world?”
“It is..”
“Now, show me that cloth you have.”
Reluctantly, Shawn handed the fabric over.
“You will have it back.”
He closed his fist over it and magic shimmered across his skin, but nothing showed on his face. The elder shook his head and handed the fabric back to Shawn.
“You say that your mate is somewhere here in the castle?”
“This is where my link with my mate brought me.”
“But you are not bonded.” It wasn’t a question.
“If you mean that I haven’t claimed him as mine, then you are right.” The crowd stirred and whispered among themselves, some of them shooting distrustful looks at Shawn. “But that doesn’t make him my mate any less.”
“Any particular reason you haven’t done so yet?”
“I only met him a week ago. We were on the run and he was sick.
There never seemed to be time for it.” That was his story and he was sticking by it.
The vampire’s poker face fell. “Sick?”
“Yeah. He was puking and losing conscience and having headaches all the time. I think he was getting better though.” The last words were unsure, reflecting his confusion.
The elder, however, didn’t seem to have the same problem. “Did he feed from you?”
“Yeah. Several times. Why?”
The lord waved the question away.
“Just curious.”
Shawn frowned and sniffed the air as inconspicuously as possible. The vampire was lying and Shawn quirked an eyebrow to call him on it. The lord smirked at him.
“Using that link of yours, can you find your mate if he’s anywhere here in the castle?”
“I believe so.”
“Show me.”
Shawn nodded and closed his eyes. He tuned out everything else and focused on the cloth in his hand. It pulsed and jerked and called to him. He was close, he knew it.
“He is here. In the basement. On the southeast corner. He is in pain.”
“So if I send my men down there they will come back with your mate?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
Shawn’s heart skipped a beat. Was the bloodsucker taking his offer back?
“I’m sure.”
“Very well.” He motioned two of his vampires forth, both tall, dark, broad–shouldered, and strong. “You heard him. Take five men with you and search the southeast corner of the dungeons. If you find a man named…” He turned to Shawn, addressing to him his next words. “What is your mate’s name?”
“Valentin Alekseev. Dark-blond hair, dark eyes, pale, and very skinny.”
Perfect Timing Page 17