Cruel Stakes: Vampires & Vices No. 2, page 12
I climb inside and it’s like a coffin in here.
“It’s a good thing I’m not very claustrophobic,” I complain. When Adrian locks us in from the inside and a strip of red LED lights along the ceiling immediately brightens the enclosed cab, I relax a little. There are two rows of leather seats facing each other. He takes one and I take the other and the car begins to drive.
I’ve avoided eye contact since leaving New Orleans. This time I let my gaze linger over him and don’t hold anything back about how I’m feeling. I’m angry. I’m frustrated. I’m scared. And I’m also attracted to him, which I hate, but there it is.
He stares right back. Something grows between us, thick and confusing.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, breaking the silence.
I have nothing to say to that. I don’t know if I even believe him. Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore.
He leans forward and then something slams into the car, metal hitting the metal like a bomb, and we’re flying. I’m simultaneously kicking myself for not putting on my seatbelt and trying to grab onto Adrian. He can’t get hit by sunlight. We’re suspended in air as the vehicle flips over and then rights itself again.
Everything stops and the red lights flicker and then turn off.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He hisses but his hands are on me, running up and down my body.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking for injuries. Hold still.”
“Dude, I’m fine,” I say and he stops.
“But I can smell blood.” His voice whispers through the dark, taking on a sinister quality.
“It’s my head.” I can feel something wet dripping down my forehead and wince when I try to touch it. “I really should’ve worn that seatbelt.”
“The venom will heal it fast.”
“Oh, nice perk. Now tell me, do you have any guns stashed in here? I’d like to be able to defend myself.” I never thought I’d hunt the vampire hunters but I don’t want to die today.
He growls low. “Why do you have to smell so good?”
“Are you serious right now? We’re under attack, someone is obviously trying to kill you, and all you can think about is my blood?” I keep feeling around the seats but there’s nothing of use. I hate that I can’t see in here!
He groans in frustration and when my hand accidentally brushes his, he catches it and tugs me into his lap. He wraps his arms around me in a cage and I freeze. “One taste,” he whispers in my ear, “I promise not to bite.”
I elbow him in the chest. “Don’t be a creep.” But he doesn’t laugh and he doesn’t let me go. He’s breathing hard, fighting the instinct to feed on my wound. He resisted before but this time we’re in close proximity and he may be minutes away from dying. What’s stopping him?
I should, but I don’t fight back. I lean into him and can’t reason away why part of me is completely okay with this, maybe even wants to see how he reacts. “Fine, but I swear if you bite me, I’m going to rip your head off.”
He chuckles and then his mouth is pressing against my cheek and moving upwards. He stops when he reaches the blood, tongue trailing along a line, cold and hot intermixing. He groans with satisfaction.
Gunfire sounds outside and it seems to shake him from his task because he stops. I use that as my cue to peel away from him and find the other bench. Little pops blast into the side of the car but nothing has a chance of getting through so far.
Someone knocks on the side of the car. I want to unlock it and go out there, but I know I can’t expose Adrian like that. A French voice says something I can’t understand and Adrian replies.
“What happened?” I ask.
“Hunters,” he offers with a little growl. “They’re gone now and we’re continuing on.”
The engine starts and the lights brighten. “What did I say about this car again?” he asks. Under the lights I can see my blood on his lips. He smiles, licks them clean, and teases me with a wink. “What did I say?” he presses.
“That nothing would happen to us when clearly it just did.”
“I said we’d be fine and we’re fine.”
I hold my hand to my head wound and glare. “Speak for yourself.”
Chapter 19
“We’re going to the palace of Versailles,” he tells me. “Act impressed. Queen Brisa will love that. But don’t be needy, she hates needy.”
“You’re kidding,” I whisper. “Versailles?”
Adrian looks at me sidelong. “Brisa’s been wanting to take up residence there since Louis XIV built it. She even infiltrated his court for a few years and nearly succeeded in her efforts.”
“She really doesn’t know how to let things go, does she?” I lean back and close my eyes, trying to sort through my thoughts.
“No.” The single word speaks volumes. I need to be careful from this moment on, more so than I’ve been in the past. If I’m going to get out of here alive, I must pretend that I’m here because I want to be here. The last thing I need is to get locked up, or worse, murdered because Brisa figures out I’m full of shit and want nothing to do with her creepy little vampire family.
The car stops again. Adrian pulls out his phone and looks at something. “There’s cameras on the car,” he says. “We’re in a garage. It’s safe to get out.”
I scoff. “Why didn’t you use that before?”
His eyes flick to my forehead. “I was distracted.”
Right …
My fingers play at the wound. It’s mostly healed right now, but I’m a mess. “I can’t walk in there like this.”
“You’re with me,” he says, “you’ll be fine.” He wrenches open the door and steps out.
We’re met by household staff, a mix of humans and vampires. A vampire greets us, bowing to Adrian. I’ve never seen anyone bow to him, not even at his own coven meeting. Things must be pretty formal here. The vampire eyes the mess of blood but doesn’t say anything. Then he’s back to Adrian again. “Your highness.”
Adrian clears his throat. “Casper, you don’t need to call me that. How many times have we been through this?”
The older looking vampire doesn’t even bother to respond to that. He stays professional as ever. “I must apologize. As Brisa recently acquired our new palace, it’s not fully renovated yet. There’s not a lot of space for everyone during the daylight hours.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Adrian mumbles. “Can you direct me to a shower, please? I’d like to freshen up before meeting with Brisa. I think Evangeline would like to as well, given her current state.”
I shoot him a little glare but nod my agreement because I probably smell like garbage and I’d like nothing more than to scrub off the dried blood.
“Of course.” Casper turns and leads us through an unmarked door, then down a wide hallway and a sweeping staircase. “Most of the windows are boarded over as a temporary measure until we can get them all turned into bulletproof UV-proof glass.” I bite my tongue from saying what a shame that will be. The building is stunning, even from the tiny slice we’ve seen so far. I’d love to explore it in all its grandeur sans tinted glass, and now I never will, not really, not now that the vampires have already started modifying it.
“Here you are.” Casper’s voice is apologetic. “Again, I’m truly sorry for the lack of space, but we did outfit the closets for you.”
A human woman opens two large wardrobes which are bursting with clothes––but not modern day clothes. This is the stuff of fairy tales. “I’ll be your personal maidservant.” She smiles at me. “I’m Remi.”
The vampire shoots her a pointed look and she rushes from the room. I think I like her—I don’t like him.
“As I was saying, Her Majesty doesn’t want any of the princes staying in the rooms with the boarded up windows. You are to be in the rooms with the new ones already installed. Oh, and don’t be alarmed by the increase in guards when you roam about the palace. They’re there for your protection.”
“Thank you,” Adrian cuts him off. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine”
Casper leaves us to it, and we take in the room. It must’ve been a guest room from long ago, much of the decor has been meticulously cared for over the centuries. Either that or restored, because it looks like we could’ve time traveled right into France during the seventeenth century. I seriously hope the bathroom has running water. It must, because Casper probably would’ve said otherwise about the showers.
There’s a grand four-poster bed in the center of the room with a loveseat and dressing table by the tinted window. Wallpaper lines the walls in textured blue and gold fleur-de-lis designs, and the crown molding is at least six inches thick.
Adrian strides over to the armoires and grumbles at the contents inside the one clearly meant for a man. “So she wants to play dress-up, does she?”
“What do you mean?” I join him, my heart squeezing when I get a better look at what’s inside. The gowns are from what I think is the Renaissance age, or whatever age it was that this palace was built. I should’ve paid more attention in history class, not that we went into European history all that much in school. His clothing is in a similar fashion. I spend a good five minutes looking through all mine and then move to his. It reminds me of the princes from movies and television shows. “Wait a second,” I let out a little snort, “do you have to wear tights?”
“They’re called hose,” he grumbles and I laugh again.
“Excellent.”
But really, I’m only teasing because the outfits are pretty cool.
“Admittedly, this wasn’t my favorite era for fashion,” he says.
“And what is?”
“Nice form fitted suits from a tailor as you often see me in or as close as I can get to nudity, take your pick.”
I punch him in the arm. “Ew, did you really have to go there?”
“It’s the truth. I don’t like to feel constricted.”
And wearing a suit isn’t constricting? I roll my eyes. And then my mouth pops open when I finally put the pieces together that Adrian and I are sharing this little room. It’s not that big of a deal, it’s not like vampires sleep, but it still feels way too intimate. I’m only here because he blackmailed me into coming. My hatred for it all is no surprise, and I hate him too for manipulating me. And now I’ll have to be turned into one of them while wearing a massive ball gown.
I carefully close the armoires and spin around to plead with Adrian. “You can’t turn me.” My voice wobbles. “Please.”
“We have a deal.”
“One I was manipulated into making.”
“I don’t want to turn you, Angel, but I have to follow her orders.” He looks away.
“Please. Promise me you’ll at least try to save me from it.”
“Vampires can’t promise anything, least of all me.” He walks to the bathroom. “Don’t try to run away. You’ll be killed if you do.”
He closes the door, and I fall back onto the bed, staring up at the canopy over the bed. There’s no way this is happening. There’s no way. It can’t be.
But it is.
After Adrian finishes in the bathroom, I go inside. Turns out there’s no shower in this room, but there is a beautiful clawfoot bathtub. I soak in it until my fingers turn to prunes, and the blood on my scalp is gone, then I slip into silk pajamas––the only thing that’s not a dress––while I’m still in the bathroom because I desperately want to get out of Adrian’s sweatpants and do so in privacy. I come back out into the bedroom to find Adrian lying on the bed with his hands behind his head and his eyes closed. I know he’s not sleeping but perhaps he’s resting his mind. All the more reason to disturb him.
I stomp through the room, throwing the old clothes down next to the armoire because I have no idea where else to put them, and settle into the couch. This isn’t an enemies-to-lovers, only one bed, will-they won’t-they situation. This is an enemies-to-allies-to-enemies, and I refuse to go near that bed when he’s on it.
“You know,” I say loudly, hoping to disturb him, “the least you could do is let me enjoy one last hurrah in the daylight.” It’s late afternoon, and there may only be a few hours left for me. Adrian doesn’t move. “What would you give to have one more hour in the sun?”
His eyes open, and he peers over at me.
“Well?” I fold my arms over my chest and raise my eyebrows.
“I’d do anything.”
“Exactly.” I nod toward the door. “Do you think I care about those guards out there? Give them an excuse and help me get outside.”
“You’re not leaving this palace during the sunlight and it’s not your last night as a human.”
“You don’t know that,” I say sharply, “and I don’t appreciate being lied to anymore.”
He sits up and runs his hands over his face. “You’re right. I don’t know that. But I do know that Brisa will want to test you for a while first. I also know that if she thinks for even one minute that you’re not loyal to me, and thus to her, then you won’t be turned. You’ll be dead.”
“And what does sunlight have to do with that?”
He flashes through the room so quickly I nearly fall off the loveseat. He’s on his knees, leaning over me. I’m average height, but he’s tall, and he dwarfs me in both his size and his presence. His fangs extend, and fear seizes me. I have no way to protect myself. “The sun has everything to do with that. You should want this so bad that you’d be eager to throw away the sun. You should worship the darkness. And if Brisa suspects how you really feel, I can promise you’ll be wishing you were dead.”
“But you said she’d kill me.” Okay, now I’m just being a smart ass.
“She will, but she won’t hurry to do it. She’ll take her time. And then she’ll go after your family and anyone you’ve loved.” His eyes flash silver. “The last person you want to cross is a vampire, and Brisa is the worst of them all.”
“Sebestian said there were worse ones than her.” There I go again.
He stills. And then he stands. “There may be.” He starts to pace the room. “Someone has been killing off princes, and when they can take over those bloodlines, they will target Brisa next. I know vampires that would like nothing more than to enslave the human race. Hugo was one of those. I suspect Sebastian is as well, though I don’t know for sure; he’s always been disgustingly loyal to Brisa.”
“And so have you.”
He nods, but he knows what I mean. He’s loyal to her as a defense mechanism. There’s a knock on the door, and Adrian opens it. “Sorry to interrupt,” a woman says, “but we’re to get her ready for the ball.”
“Is that you Remi?” I ask, strolling to the door, grateful to find a human and not another vamp.
“Yes, Miss.”
“The ball?” Adrian frowns. “Are we seriously doing one of those again?” He sounds as if he’s a duke and a million mamas are after his hand for their eligible daughters. I fail to bite back a laugh.
“Oh yes. Queen Brisa insisted we have one every night the first year she’s here.” First year? Remi looks pointedly at me. “Come along now, there’s much to do.”
Chapter 20
I stop laughing abruptly. This is so not my scene. But I have to play the part, that much Adrian has made clear. I really hope that I can trust him this time. I snort again and he shakes his head.
“Lord help us all,” he moans.
The young woman looks to be in her twenties—probably old enough to be compelled so she can work here. She takes me to a dressing room, and I’m descended upon by five other human women of varying ages. I seriously wonder if they work here because they want to or if they’re here because they’ve been compelled. I wouldn’t be surprised by either. Too many humans have accepted vampires as part of everyday life. We’ve become complacent and desensitized, treating vampires like part of society instead of a stain on it. Maybe the vamps pay well? They certainly have the money.
The maidservants don’t make me bathe again, but they do my nails, style my hair onto the top of my head, apply way too much makeup, and then fit me into a corset that makes my waist tiny and my boobs big. Then comes the heaviest gown I’ve ever worn, times a million. “What is this thing?” I complain, already getting hot. It’s itchy and huge. It’s also a striking sapphire blue that compliments my tanned skin tone. The bodice is cut in a low sweetheart shape, and the twins are on full display, having been pushed up by the ridiculous corset underneath. I think of Ayla, and my heart hurts. I’d love to share this with her, sans vampires of course. She would absolutely love it.
At least, the old her would have.
She still hates me. She knows I’ve dumped her brother but still doesn’t want to talk to me. She hates that I joined the hunters but she doesn’t seem to get that I’m doing it because I love her and want her to live in a safer world. If only I could text her.
“Do any of you have a phone?” I ask the ladies. They frown. “I want to take a picture of myself like this.” I hold the universal symbol of phone to my ear by extending my thumb and pinky.
“Non, Non,” one of them says. “C’est interdit!”
“I’m sorry, I don’t speak French.”
“She said it is forbidden. Privacy is of the utmost importance here,” another replies, speaking English with a thick French accent, “there are no phones allowed in the city for us humans.”
“So what do you tell your families when you get home? Do they know you work here?”
“We live here,” another supplies. She barely has an accent at all. “This is our home. We are each other’s family now.”
She sounds a little robotic, and I know the answer to my earlier question. These humans have been compelled, probably multiple times. The only one that seems to have any spirit left in her is Remi, but she keeps quiet about the phone thing, shooting me an apologetic look.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
They finish off the job with white gold jewelry adorned with diamonds and sapphires. The sparkling jewels settle around my neck and hang off my ears like prison chains. And when it’s time to go, I don’t want to move.
