I brushed my fingers lightly over his baby-smooth cheeks. “Blue, you are not acting like yourself lately. Seriously, what’s the matter? Let me help.”
For a moment, he leaned into my touch, wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me tight. Blue had always been put together, sure, and confident, even when I knew he couldn’t possibly be. But his visible trembles, his cheek pressed against mine, and his lack of halfhearted flirting had me freaking out just a little bit.
His weight sagged against me for half a second, and then, just as he’d done last night, he pulled back, giving me one of his cocky, charming smiles, saying, “Maybe I just wanted to feel you up, little vampire.”
He winked.
And he looked so much like the old Blue that I questioned whether what I was feeling had more to do with my own situation than him at all. I bit my bottom lip, stomach flopping as I wondered whether I should push this matter further or just let it drop altogether.
I pursed my lips, trying one last time. “But you would tell me if something was wrong with you, right?”
He chucked my chin, stepped back, and brushed himself down. “Oh, come now, young ’un. I’m Blue,” he said, as if that was supposed to explain everything.
He was totally lying to me. I wasn’t an idiot. But there was a hard gleam in his eyes and a wry smile on his lips, that, more than anything, let me know the subject was off limits.
For now, anyway. I’d try again another time.
I grumped. “Well, fine. Whatever. Lie to me if you want. What do I do now? Where are Merc and Steven?”
Squaring his shoulders, Blue clapped his hands. Instantly, the musty old study was filled with racks upon racks of couture gowns. My jaw dropped as the old vanity in me flared to life. Once upon a time, before I’d died, I’d been a clothes whore to rival Blue.
“What the...?”
Blue grinned his arrogant grin. “I may have begged Helen to beg Jolene to send me her very best gowns for you. She must like you, because—dear goddess!” He squealed as he yanked out a hanger with a plum-hued garment unlike anything I’d ever seen before. He held it up to himself, twirling left then right, like a primping prima donna. “Look at this one! You must put it on, my darling. You simply must, and if you don’t, I will. Ah!”
He moved the dress toward me, and I almost couldn’t breathe, it was so beautiful.
The top was a diaphanous and delicate kimono-style bodice with long bell sleeves. It cinched tight at the waist with a silk ribbon. The skirt itself was a clear, plum-colored mesh with strategically placed flower blossoms that cascaded in bigger and bigger clusters as they flowed into a train of dyed bird’s feathers.
He started yanking on the black dress I was still wearing from the night before, trying to pull it off me. I stepped back and smacked his hand away.
“Blue, contain yourself. Jeez. Look, I will give you that the gown is freaking stunning. It is! Jolene has outdone herself. But—”
Blue scoffed. “How quickly you forget your lessons, little one. Have you learned nothing from me?”
I twisted my lips, crossing my arms beneath my breasts. Thanks to his manhandling of me, half the dress was already sliding off my body. I huffed at a loose curl of hair. “And that lesson would be what exactly?”
He palmed his forehead hard enough to make a cringe-inducing, skin-on-skin slapping sound.
“Did you not notice how the shifters acted when you walked out in this thing?” He pointed to my now-sad-looking dress. “And the poor thing is nowhere near the art that Jolene creates.”
“It’s just a dress, Blue. That’s hardly the most important thing—”
“It is the only thing!” he cried dramatically, flapping the hanger with the pretty plum-colored dress around. “Don’t you get it, yet? This is power. Real power.”
I frowned. “It’s... a dress.”
He rolled his eyes. “Scarlett, you may only see a dress, but what they see is confidence. Arrogance. A vampire amongst shifters is not to be born, unless she is you.”
He trailed a gentle finger down my cheek, voice dropping an octave. “Don’t you get it? You have to show them that you belong here just as much as they do. They may hate you. They may even want to burn you at the stake, but gods help me, they will fear you. You have to fight for your right to stand beside your man. You have to fight to win. This isn’t a game anymore, Scar. This is your life. And his. If he loses yours is forfeit, those are the rules. When you chose to flaunt convention and take him as mate you took the good with the bad. That’s why we’re here. And you can never forget it.”
Taking my hand, he brought my knuckles to his mouth and kissed them hard. Passionately. He groaned deeply as he did it, sounding pained and terrified, and for the first time, I think I finally got it.
Blue had shown me, once before, just how much he really did care for me, right when he thought he would lose me to the Clan Infantes. He’d broken down and had oh-so-briefly let me in, let me see beyond the mask he always wore, that of the arrogant and mischievous ne’er-do-well, and into the heart of the deeply intelligent, cunning, and emotional fae beneath.
I touched the corner of his mouth, and he flinched.
The fae had a reputation for not caring, of being so long-lived that emotions—the true and soft kind—had faded from them completely, leaving them with feelings only on the most basic levels. Blue was genuinely worried for me, and he was starting to crack beneath the strain of it all.
“Don’t hate me,” I said softly by way of apology. “I’m still learning so much about everything. If you want me to wear this dress, hell, if you want me to wear nothing but thigh highs and heels—”
“Don’t tempt me, woman.”
“I will, if you think it’ll help me out here. Just... don’t—”
“Gods, Scar,” he whispered brokenly, looking at me with tears shining in his neon blue eyes, his dark skin looking flushed and paler than normal. “I could never hate you. It’s not possible, my little flower. Now, we’re gonna find your man, and you’re gonna prove to this whole damn enclave of rabid mongrels that a vampire has every right to this world, same as they do. Put on your dress”—he shoved it into my chest—“or I will put it on you.”
I chuckled, rolling my eyes as I took the hanger from him. Our fingers touched, and for just a second, he gave me a tender squeeze.
“You’ve always trusted me, Scar, even when others didn’t and warned you to keep away from me, that my kind was no good. Faithless, heartless bastards prone to smiling in your face and stabbing you in the back the first chance we got. But you never made me feel that way. You showed me that there are some Veilers in this world who say what they mean and mean what they say. So I’m going to prove to you that your faith in me wasn’t in vain.”
I smiled. “My faith in you has never wavered, Blue. You’re my friend. You’re my best friend.”
He stepped back, nodding toward the door. “Then go change, little vampire, and let’s give ‘em hell.”
Chapter 7
Scarlett
I stood, surrounded by a sea of shifters, their peppery, autumn-leaf scent a pungent perfume on the air, as beautiful and not-so-beautiful Veilers glided by, talking, drinking, and laughing loudly. There was an air of merriment in the situation, though I wasn’t exactly sure merriment was called for. But then, shifters, even the “domesticated” ones, loved nothing more than a good scrap to get the blood pumping.
Attendants were down below, scrubbing blood and bits of guts off the floor, cleaning up before the next deadly battle. The room was massive. It might have once been a great hall but had been recently transformed into an arena. It reminded me of the one Mercer and I had found ourselves in when Cole had decided to go all Schwarzenegger on us.
Blue and I stood shoulder to shoulder, leaning casually against an embellished wrought-iron railing. I was still scanning the crowds for a familiar face. I didn’t know many people here, but I hoped I would bump into Mercer or Steven, or, heck,
even James at this point. But no dice. I wasn’t even sure if they knew I was here, though how that could be possible was beyond considering. I was the only vampire with a fae bodyguard in attendance.
Gareth was around somewhere, never straying that far from our side, but sticking to the shadows so that it wasn’t easy for me to know just where our stealthy ninja was from one second to the next. He was clearly our handler in this place.
The battle to see who’d be taking over as acting Alpha of the McCarrick pack and, consequently, Silver Creek lands had been well underway for over forty-eight hours.
Or so Gareth had told us when we’d arrived, anyway.
The ostentatious wealth of the place was astounding. The royal banners of the three acting Alphas that served on the council fluttered in the massive beams above our heads. There was a wolf’s head with a crown of thorns on one, in the colors of the Lobos pack. Another displayed a stag with a crown of stars on its head, in the colors of the Petrov pack. And finally, there was the banner of the tusked boar with an apple in its jaws, in the colors of the Campbell pack. Each pack’s coat of arms, with their house’s family motto and crest, were emblazoned upon the walls, just in case anyone should forget who was nobility and who was not.
There were weapons affixed to the walls—maces and daggers, broadswords, and wickedly curved blades. I had no clue what some of them were. Knights’ armor gleamed like polished silver beneath the soft glow of hundreds of lit torches. It was all grand and made to inspire a sense of awe and shared history.
A history I had no part of.
I’d never felt uncomfortable around shifters, even when I’d known they weren’t that wild about me. I’d never felt like I was a stranger in a strange land.
Here though, I didn’t feel like I belonged at all. The three nobles and their packs had a shared sense of camaraderie I would never know or understand.
I straightened my shoulders, sipping slowly on the goblet of wine a servant had handed me earlier. It was a robust red with hints of black cherry and an oaky finish. It tasted surprisingly coppery, too, like blood, only sweeter. It was delicious.
Unlike vampires, shifters weren’t cunning when it came to assassinations. They would simply walk up to you and stab you as you watched. I didn’t worry that they might poison me. It wasn’t their style.
Blue leaned in next to me. “I think they’re just about ready for the next fighter. I’ve been told it’s Mercer.”
I frowned, looking at him slantways. “And you know this how? Pretty sure you haven’t left my side the entire time we’ve been here.”
He chuckled. “I’ve got my ways, vamp. Do you doubt me?”
“I might be young,” I said between sips, “but even I know doubting you would be a very stupid thing to do, my vain peacock.”
Looking back down at the open-style arena before us, he wore a proud smirk, but didn’t respond. His eyes, too, had been scanning the grounds almost the entire time. But he was back to his own, suave self, laughing and keeping my spirits high, making me think I had been projecting my anxiety on him after all.
Blue had been right about the dress, as he so often was. From the second the guards spotted us walking down the pathway, there’d been an air of deference to them. Their eyes bored holes into me, and I’d seen their appreciation even as I saw their innate revulsion at so clearly finding me—a vile fanger—desirable.
Maybe it was the clothes, or maybe it was what wearing the clothes did to me, but I felt powerful. Strong. Tenebris was quiet inside me, content merely to watch and take it all in. But it wasn’t knowing she was with me that made me feel calm. It was the knowledge that no amount of begging or pleading could change the situation Mercer and I were in. Ironically enough, being here made me feel more tranquil than I had in days, and it was no doubt the quiet confidence I exuded that made them keep their guard up and hold their tongues.
Oh, I was gawked at. Blue and I both were. We stuck out like sore thumbs in this place, but not because we were the only beautiful monsters in attendance.
Shifters had their own delicious and rugged appeal. The women were grace and power, even in their tight-fitting gowns and fancy hair styles. The men were far wilder than either a vampire or fae male would be. They had loads of hair and crazy beards, but their faces looked chiseled from granite. A quiet power radiated off them that I’d always found spine-tinglingly appealing.
But Blue and I had been crafted differently, and there was no mistake about that. He was all androgynous beauty and clean lines, where I was deceivingly delicate-looking. It was attractive to some and off-putting to others, unless I turned on my charm, which I did, smiling at anyone and anything that crossed our path.
They’d nod and look either surprised or scandalized, but they didn’t treat me the way the shifters in Silver Creek who hated my guts did. The disgust was there, but beneath it was some measure of respect. They couldn’t peg me. I was their ancient and bitter foe, and yet I didn’t act like I was above them or disrespect any of them. I knew all the shifter protocols. I stared none of them in the eye, did not sneer or insult them as just about any other vampire would have done. It confused them.
Clearly, the whole Veiler world didn’t know I was mated to one of their own because I was certain my reception would have been very frosty, otherwise. It helped that my gown covered my mark and that I’d not fed from Mercer in several hours. The scent of our bond was very faint now and would be easy to miss among all the other smells.
A sudden hush among the crowd began to filter through the room like a wave, and my skin tingled, knowing the next battle was about to begin. There was nothing quite like watching two grown and powerful shifters at the peak of their prime duke it out.
I imagined it must have felt a little bit like watching Roman gladiators exit their tunnels in the colosseums of old. A ginger-haired male, rippling with muscles and with a youthful face, bounded up the platform to the wild applause of the European contingency. “For the Stewarts!” he roared, voice throaty and rumbling with his barely checked power. He was nude. Shifting would ruin their clothes anyway, so why bother wearing any to the ring?
“True ginger,” Blue whispered, nodding with his chin toward the thick thatch of russet-colored curls between the shifter’s thighs.
I grinned.
Blue chuckled. “Too bad he’s about to die. I’d have liked playing with that one, I think. So rare to find a such a fine specimen of male flesh these days.”
There was a harsh growl at our backs, but when I turned to look, I spotted no one behind us. Though in the shadows, I did see the faint hint of silver hair slip back into the darkness.
Blue never turned, though his lips did tip at the corners.
A blond-haired woman also climbed the steps and smiled cheekily at the ginger. She was incredibly tall, easily six feet if not an inch or two more, and dressed in the Campbell colors of dark green and blue. On her thick, heavy waves of hair rested a tiara of fiery-red jewels. She was absolutely stunning, with high, slashing cheekbones, sharply slanted golden eyes, a heart-shaped face, and soft, pouting lips. Her features were human, but there was something lupine about them too. I had no problem picturing her in her wolf form. She was a gorgeous representation of the woman and the wolf.
“Calum.” I heard her say his name with a slight hint of laughter. “May the great Wolf spirits smile down upon you this day.”
“And ye, milady,” he said with an almost reverent bow.
The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on edge, and my heart, which wasn’t quite as supercharged as it normally was, beat just a little bit harder. Walking up the steps to join her was a far more grizzled-looking shifter male. Hair that must have once been inky black was now more salt than pepper. He, too, wore the Campbell colors. Three long vertical scars ran down his left cheek, and the left side of his mouth looked pinched shut, as though flame had melted his skin together. But the good side of his face was not unpleasant to look upon. His bearing also commanded at
tention. This was a man who owned his power and had no issue with the kind of leader he’d become.
That was an attractive quality that would make any female stand up and take notice, melted face notwithstanding. I’d never seen the Campbell before, though I’d heard of him, but I was ninety percent sure this had to be him. The way he gazed at the crowd with familiar superiority, and with the fine stitching of his clothes, he was either the Alpha or a very, very high-ranking noble of the pack.
It made me wonder just how many times he’d fought to keep his grip on his pack. Were those old wounds a result of wars or of young wolves who tried to depose him and take his home for their own?
The stomping of boots and pounding of fists reverberated like the death drums through the stone chamber, echoing loudly and sending my pulse into a skidding rhythm. I glanced at the faces around me. Some were dark, and some were light. But those wearing the Campbell tartan looked upon that man with pride and obvious respect.
“Who is that?” I whispered, fairly sure of the answer.
“The Campbell.” It wasn’t Blue who answered, but Gareth, gliding up like a ghost, moving so silently that I shivered. I’d never heard his approach.
Tenebris fluttered inside me, disturbed that she’d not sensed him, either.
I pursed my lips. I was on edge and cagey, ready to rip him a new one. Except, when I turned toward him, I noticed his hand was on the small of Blue’s back, and he was leaning in far closer than a casual acquaintance would.
Blue went stiff as a board and expertly sidestepped Gareth. The move was so imperceptible that if I’d not been looking at them already, I’d never have noticed it. Gareth clenched his molars but said nothing as he braced his hands behind his back, looking impeccable and aloof as always.
It wasn’t my place to say anything, but helping Blue with his problems would definitely keep my mind off my own.
The Vampire Went Down to Georgia (Southern Vampire Detective Book 3) Page 10