Murmurs and unguarded thoughts rose up in the ballroom. She was their mystery guest. The same sects from the clans had been coming for centuries and nothing deviated from that list. The Council and other elders of species would have spread the word around to the most powerful families, warning them, but many would find out tonight the dangerous gift of the mist had been transferred for the first time since the Great War.
Simone broke through the crowd of staring faces, sheathed in a fire-engine red dress that lovingly hugged every curve of her body. She stalked with her casual lithe grace, her long, gleaming sunset red hair rippling over her arms. A long slit in the gown ended at mid-thigh.
His heart stopped dead in his chest, and there it was, on the floor. He lifted his gaze and gulped, following the slit, up, up, to her creamy neck and dreamed about ripping the dress right up to her throat. He swore to do that tonight.
Her long, supple leg flashed, hid, then flashed again in an endless seduction. The bust gripped her breasts like a pair of loving hands. Gold stilettos shimmered on her feet. The lights in her green eyes danced, and she stared at the vampires around her, a charming smile on her lips. With blood-red lipstick and her natural, flashing green eyes, she was truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“See, nothing to worry about,” his mother said, impishly. “But it looks like the Wentworth boys are going to give you a run for your money.”
The wealthy vampire brothers moved from the wall, deadly seduction written on their faces at the prospect of another female vampire in their midst. No doubt, they’d heard about her since Dravego’s death and were waiting in the wings to meet her. They skirted a waiter, but that waiter turned, caught sight of Simone, gawped, and went down for the count with two full trays of blood.
Juliun faded, but Simone already reappeared on the other side of the waiter with a tray held in each hand and not one drop of blood spilled.
Her fast reflexes—one of the many things he loved about her.
A collective gasp rose up from the crowd, and their faces slackened. Heads turned in stupefied unison to Juliun, then the king. Accusation and disbelief warred in their expressions.
Juliun stared back with intentional disregard; like he cared what they thought, and the mist pulsed farther from his body in dire warning. If any of them spoke out about her…
“Are you okay?” Simone asked the waiter. “That’s a lot of blood to carry around. Where do you want it?”
A waitress hustled over to the melee, apologising profusely for the inconvenience and grabbed both trays. After the servants bowed, they melted away into the background.
Whispers and thoughts rose in volume.
Simone’s eyes flashed, darkening from their usual sunlit-streaked green, and her full, rosy lips curved with pure mischief.
Those lips would drive him crazy. Maybe they already had. He’d been dreaming of kissing her in the spirit world and in the clinic every second of the night. A million things went haywire inside of him, yet he was totally focused on one. Her. Him. Together. In bed.
That cute, dangerous slope of her nose, the fearless thrust of her chin, the amused looks she flicked to the crowd. She swivelled at the sound of breaking glass and caught sight of him.
He blinked, staring down at his open hand and at the red mess over his palm. Glass and blood spattered his shoes. He looked back up at her.
Her stare locked onto his. He couldn’t move.
Lost in that whirlpool again, their minds connected, and a primal joy cried within his heart. *Will you dance with me?*
Chapter Forty-Five
Simone could imagine Juliun’s breath wafting across her skin as he uttered the invitation. The last time she’d seen him for more than five minutes, he’d kissed her senseless, and all that she’d wanted to do was retreat to Ravenkeep for a little late night delight.
Okay, maybe a lot.
Between caring for her mother, Tammy and the other prisoners held in Dravego’s lair, Simone hadn’t much free time up her sleeve. That was all about to change.
Juliun frowned. *Do you know the steps?*
Her gaze ran over his superb figure in the black tuxedo. His hands clenched, jaw granite hard, neck muscles strained. He towered over everyone else.
*Simone?*
*Yes,* she answered with a smile. *I would love to dance with you.*
Royal vampire blood beat in her veins, controlling her DNA, and she drifted with slow, smooth steps toward him. Hunger rolled and coiled in her stomach. She’d spent so long lingering over her mother and Tammy at the clinic that it had taken Simone forever to find a dress in her price range in London.
Juliun drew her into the warm embrace of his arms, and she felt in the right place, with the right person, and her hunger eased, swamped by the stronger sensation of belonging.
His arms were strong, and slowly with his left foot, he led her across the floor in an elegant waltz.
He was the masterful aristocrat here, the beautiful and simplistic dance emphasizing his loose limbed grace. He stepped forward and slowed down, then carefully twisted her, his arm secure on her back as he dipped her toward the floor. Her hair rippled out from her head, and he stared down into her eyes, running his fingers through her hair, down her neck, to her waist.
He pulled her up and kissed her neck, moving his firm, warm lips slowly up to her earlobe for a quick nibble. Her breasts pushed against his chest.
She breathed in heavily, shivering. “Juliun.”
The orchestra ended the song, and he stepped back, offering his hand. “Thirsty?”
Her thudding heart still played the music within her. She constantly thirsted for him and could have danced forever, but she took a deep breath and smiled. “Yes, please. I’m sorry I’m late.”
“I missed you very much,” he confessed, gently cupping her elbow and leading her toward a waiter who hovered on the fringes of the ballroom. Juliun plucked a glass from the tray and offered her the drink.
She opened her parched lips, and the warmed blood ran down her throat, soothing and rich. She sighed. “Mmm...good.”
He regarded her with a curious stare. “You have not fed?”
“No,” she said. “I didn’t have time.”
“We can’t have that.”
Simone turned at the female voice and found Lissanne grinning at her. Juliun’s mother looked up at her son, obvious pride on her face, and a mind message passed between the two for his light gaze flashed back to Simone and roved over her with an obvious hunger, yet he handed Simone another glass of blood and bowed over her hand.
“My mother wishes to show you the tradition female vampires follow when they attend the ball for their first time. It is considered good luck.” He grinned. “I would hate to tempt fate.”
Simone laughed. “Aww, tempting fate sounds like an awful lot of fun.”
Lissanne hooked her hand in Simone’s arm. “It’s so wonderful to see you together.” Her gaze flicked over Simone’s shoulder at all the gathered vampires. “How are you holding up? You have that distinct hungry look in your eyes.”
Simone couldn’t say, ‘It’s from wanting your son,’ could she? Instead, she answered, “I didn’t expect…well it’s nice to meet new vampires and all. Maybe I could do with some time to get drunk before the start of the twenty questions about the mist I hear everyone thinking about. The last two nights have been crazy.”
Lissanne laughed. “I know. There are excellent samples in the tasting room. Come on, I want to have a little chat. It’s part of the female initiation into vampirism to sample the blood that’s on offer.”
The tasting room blazed with light from chandeliers in the ornate ceiling. Female vampires in sweeping, luxurious ball gowns floated across the floor, laughing and smiling as they drank.
“They’re not feeding directly from others?” Simone asked. “I thought that would be all the rage here.”
“In the back rooms,” Lissanne said, pointing to a darkened doorway. “Although,
they do try to be more discreet here. Things can get out of hand when vampires feed from each other.” She led the way to the tables lined with blood and avoided the waitresses who dashed behind. “Two Tranquilisers and two of my usual,” she ordered.
“Tranquilisers?” Simone cozied up to one of the stools and arched her eyebrows.
“Yes,” Lissanne said, decisively. “The effects should last precisely thirty minutes into any inquisition.”
Simone chuckled.
“You look stunning by the way,” Lissanne declared. Two shot glasses filled with alcohol-laced blood arrived, and Lissanne slid a glass across the bar toward Simone. “Drink up.”
She downed the drink in one go, and a fiery warmth burned down her throat and filled her belly. She coughed. “Wow. What’s in that?”
“A mixture of spirits.” Lissanne grinned and handed her another champagne glass filled with blood. “Vodka in this one.”
“Oh!” Simone smelled the brew. “Mmm.” She took a first sip and laughed. “That’s so good. Who would’ve thought I could drink this stuff?”
“I know.” Lissanne patted her hair and looked around the room. “And there’s more where that came from. Lovely tradition this.”
Simone could think of something far better and it included Juliun. Naked. Her bed, his bed—it didn’t matter as long as they were together.
Her heart ached thinking about it.
“I know Juliun wishes he could share this with you,” Lissanne continued. “He’s been on hot coals all night. You know he cares for you deeply, and I believe that you feel the same way about him.”
Simone stared into her drink. What was Lissanne going to say? Was this the time to confess all to Juliun’s mother? Simone nodded and looked up. Juliun was worth it. “I do. I love him.”
“Then you have my blessing.” Lissanne smiled. “If you’re going to be looking for him, he’ll be the one in the next room with the black cloud, and everyone will be cutting a wide berth so they don’t disappear.”
Simone understood how he felt.
“Radu and Luc taught him how to use the mist. I’ve never seen him lose control of it like this. I don’t think I can ever repay you for helping save his life.” Lissanne’s eyes were wide and honest. “I couldn’t be happier for the both of you.” She leaned across and kissed Simone’s cheek. “Now, I get to go and stir up all those old biddies. Wish me luck.” Lissanne sauntered away to a group of elderly female vampires who were decked out in so many jewels, their hands and necks glittered like stars.
Lissanne was right.
Simone left the bar and found Juliun in a dark cloud of mist. She materialised to the empty spot behind him.
He stiffened, and the awareness of a predator tightened every line of his body. The dark aura of the mist pulled into his skin and sank into him. His body solidified.
She neared in slow steps, her heart galloping, the scent of his masculine spice driving her crazy. She leaned in next to his ear. “You wanna get out of here?”
He twisted around, his stare powerful and fierce. “Is that a trick question?”
She shifted her gaze from his face to his broad chest, taut abdomen and long, muscled legs, then slowly back up to his custom-cut tuxedo and glowing grey eyes.
She sipped her blood and smirked. “Here’s a trick.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Simone opened her eyes inside his lavish suite at Ravenkeep. Similar to the balmy air on a summer’s night, there was not one part of her he couldn’t touch when they faded. She placed her wineglass on the sideboard, her fingers running down the delicate stem of the glass. A stain of red pooled in the bowl. Were her lips marked with the deep hue?
Stars sprinkled the night sky, and she breathed in the wafting, salty breeze from the North Sea. Her long hair ruffled across her shoulders. “It’s a beautiful night.”
Her gaze caught on the dancing candlelight along the walls, flickering in the soft wind, but continuing their hungry burn. The rich and heady scent of roses, wood and salt fanned her. The smell, like the memories of her time in this town, and her future with Juliun, washed over her in one startling moment.
Here she was again, but this time everything was different. Was it possible she wanted him even more than he wanted her? She’d started building again with her new choices, and it felt amazing.
He reclined in an antique red velvet chair, one ankle crossed over his knee; the black pants moulded to his long, powerful thighs. “You make it all beautiful, love,” he said, quietly.
Her fingers tip-toed to the back of her dress, and she tugged the zipper, the gentle rasp ticking away each beat of her heart. She tilted her head, lifting the fall of her hair with one arm, and the firm bodice parted at her shoulder blades, then she delicately wiggled her arms and let the fabric drop to her waist.
His shoes thudded on the floor, and she caught her breath.
He stepped into her line of sight. The muscles in his neck were tight as he stalked around her, never once dropping his silver gaze from her face. Always, his gaze remained on hers, hinting at thousands of promises, delights and dark temptations. A hundred-thousand nights of longing.
The breeze twined around her body, and the moon pulled at her, the waves, the intensity in his eyes. “Who are you, Juliun?”
Silence stretched dangerously.
“A predator of the mist.” He stepped closer. His glowing eyes blazed into hers. “A stalker of the vein. The darkest shadow you thought you never saw.” His hands shook, then fisted, and he shucked off his jacket and threw it on the bed.
“That and so much more.” The elegant room shimmered around her, the glow from the candles played over the luxurious sheets. “You’re the vampire who helped me save my mother and supported me to be more than I ever imagined. Don’t ever feel guilty for turning me, Juliun. I love you exactly the way you are.”
Her thumbs clumsily hooked beneath the waist of her dress, and she divulged herself of clothes, all the while trembling. Her dress and panties lay puddled at her feet, and she stood there naked, excited and full of love.
She held the image of him in a daze and ached.
He leaned over the frothy mass without touching the dress, as though it were sacred, and the seconds ticked by with inexorable slowness.
Then he lifted her hair from her shoulder, and the strands spilled across her breast. A soft, warm pressure of his thumb caressed the scar at the back of her head, and she drew in a deep breath, tethered by the heat of his lips, the feeling behind his touch.
She yearned to feel him inside of her, but she dropped her head to the side and exposed her neck.
He trembled all over. “You really want that?”
She twisted her neck and looked him in the eyes. “Exactly as you are. No changes. I want you. Love you.”
He shrugged off his clothes that fast he blurred, and he dropped them on the floor. “Love…” His naked body pressed against hers. “I love you, too.”
He gazed into her eyes until his teeth descended and lengthened into razor points. Then he leaned in, inch by inch, the softest caress of his cheek moved over her face, his mouth roaming to her pulse that beat wildly.
His fangs slid into her throat.
A delicious shudder wracked her body, and she groaned, feeling like he had a direct line from the wound in her neck to the throbbing sex between her legs. Gentle pain and intense pleasure intertwined, a contrast of deathly excitement and love, leaving her feeling that he’d left his mark upon her soul.
His skin grew so slick and smooth that she gripped his buttocks, pulling him closer to her body.
He groaned, one hand playing with her nipples, tweaking sensations that made her bite her lip, while his other hand ventured lower in a lust-arousing exploration of her soft, moist flesh. He inserted a finger inside her, and she panted, straining against his hard body, utterly vulnerable as she rocked her hips back and forth, then reached down and caressed his erection between her hands, trying to slip him inside he
r. She wanted him closer.
His head lifted; lips and incisors reddened with her blood, and he swept her off her feet to the huge bed where he laid her flat on the satin covers. He laughed. “Not so fast, love. You asked me to taste you, and so I will.”
Her back glided on the cool surface, her bottom resting at the slippery edge of the mattress. She wiggled to get closer to him, anticipation and excitement curling in her stomach, every sensation magnified. Her nerves jangled in chaotic stimulation.
He grabbed her right ankle and lifted it onto his shoulder, and then he razed his teeth in a tortuous, exciting way against her skin. A tiny little bite at the inside of her ankle, and she gasped, sparking a deep longing inside her, another sharp nip on her calf muscle, and she cried out, releasing a sigh at the unbearable heat building in her body.
He nipped the curve of her foot, the arch, her little toe. He dipped his head, and his cheek brushed against the inside of her thigh, and then he bit the inside of her knee.
The grip of his teeth held there for unbearable seconds without breaking her skin. She knew what he was going to do. Her leg started to wobble; and he pinned it to his shoulder with his hand. Moisture slicked her thighs.
She didn’t know if she’d be able to stand this for much longer.
He captured her other leg, rested it up to his shoulder, then sharply bit into the toes of her left foot.
She moaned, feeling more warmth pool in her belly.
He trailed slow bites to her heel, her arch and all the way up her leg to the inside of her other knee. Tiny fires lit beneath her skin, and the sound of her groans turned into one long hum of ecstatic pleasure. Then he came back from the top of her thighs to her feet once again, and this time, he ruptured her skin, and at each nip, he sucked once, and then moved on to bite her again.
Little rivulets of blood seeped across her calf muscle, until his tongue slowly lapped across her, to heal, to drink, gliding over her skin, in tasting, sucking, and soothing the bites. With her legs still on his shoulders; he ducked and slipped forward completely between her quivering thighs, slipping the point of his nose between her sex, rubbing back and forth, panting on her sensitised flesh like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. He moaned and the reverberations hit her skin, and she gripped his head, tangling her fingers in his hair, her ankles twisting to grasp the bottom of his back.
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