Forty-Seven
T he party raging within was like nothing I’d seen before. The previous affairs had been rowdy displays of opulence, a peek into some mythical, palatial world. A chance for the common man to feel like a god. Tonight was a bacchanal.
As though stepping past the threshold once more into a veiled other-world, a sort of haze settled around the foyer, a sweet smokiness that I couldn’t decide was real or in my head. It calmed the jitteriness of my limbs, the vibrations I swore I felt around my heart, like it was begging to flee.
Something about being unable to discern anyone’s identities was frightening and thrilling. If I were just a simple partygoer, I’d revel in it, finding a man to pull into a corner somewhere, without taking off our masks, knowing that tomorrow his name would still be a mystery. And plenty of people were doing just that—alcoves full of small groups of huddling people, deep in conversation, some with only couples, mouths fused together, in compromising positions. Like something out of A Midsummer Night’s Dream , with their elaborate costumes, a sense of wonder permeating the room.
The room was so full, I wasn’t sure how I’d make it into the ballroom, or even further into the house.
There was no way that none of Lucas’ men were here, either. Friends of his who would know my face could cash in for that million dollar reward.
My only saving grace was my mask, but I wasn’t sure that would hide me from Marcel. I’d dined with him, long enough he probably knew my scent. He seemed to that afternoon he’d come to the manor, stopping in his tracks.
His grin still sent shivers through me, nothing like the man I’d met that first night at the speakeasy.
But I needed that smile pointed at me tonight. Needed him to think he could have me, just long enough for Vince’s rage to turn deadly.
I shoved my way through the room, the heat of the bodies bringing a dampness under the mask at my eyes. That haze didn’t help, making the room seem smaller than it was. The crowd closing in on me, the air becoming thick.
In the ballroom, deep emerald sheets hung from the ceiling, like the trunks of trees supporting the ceiling. Vines hung from the beams. A few girls twisted through them, their limbs tangled in the sheets, flipping through the air like they were flying. They beamed at the partygoers below them, wearing floral masks, soaring through as though they had wings.
Flora would be delighted .
When all of this was over, after we all had a chance to breathe, I would insist on throwing another party like this. The decorators had turned the house into a faux-forest, a mythical dreamscape that made me want to do nothing but waste the hours away, drunk with Vince under a willow tree.
Just like we used to.
A quick glance up at the balcony revealed no familiar faces, just the masks and costumes of strangers, downing champagne, spilling gin over the railing.
If he saw me before Marcel did, this whole thing would go up in flames.
But a part of me wanted Vince to find me, to turn that beast onto me. I wanted to forget all about the task at hand. I was betraying him—I had lied to him—and I was putting myself into danger, all to fuel his fury, entrap Marcel, and let go of the beast onto our enemy.
I just needed to get upstairs, where I could pull Marcel into the room Veronica and I had talked about. He must be wandering around. Or he would, soon. And he needed to find me.
He would find me. He had been frenzied for a taste.
It wouldn’t be that hard, it just needed to go according to plan.
I took a deep breath, letting the oxygen settle into my limbs, clearing out all the anxiety in my chest, before I shoved into the crowd of the dancefloor.
There were some revelers that danced, though most were staring at the entertainment, the girls in leotards defying gravity. The sheets ruffled like waves as they skimmed the crowd. The band began to play a popular song, and the crowd shifted, girls pulling their partners to the middle of the floor .
And in the shift, I saw a pair of dark eyes staring right at me.
No.
No .
Not yet—I hadn’t even made it upstairs—He wasn’t supposed to be here yet —
I shoved against bodies with more strength, ignoring shouts of indignation when I pushed a girl’s drink into her chest.
I needed to get away from the crowd, to lure Marcel elsewhere—
“Miss Helena Quintrell,” his cloying voice came from behind me, sweet saccharine and brandy.
I froze.
Fuck .
There was a lump in my throat as I took another breath to center myself. Okay. It’s fine. Just convince him to follow you .
Did Veronica know he’d come in? Did the others? Were they hunting him down right at this moment?
So much could go wrong.
When I turned to face him, he looked exactly as I expected: impeccably dressed, a pin-stripe suit pressed and ironed, his loose collar a stark white against his skin, though he had discarded his tie somewhere. Dark hair gelled back, his deep irises shining as they took me in. I could feel them creeping down my legs, catching on the curve of my hips, up my chest. Gaze lingering on my throat. Unmasked.
Marcel was a beautiful man, and it was a wonder I hadn’t fallen into his trap when I first met him.
I swallowed. “Marcel. ”
“Fancy seeing you here,” he purred, staring at my neck, his bloodlust darkening his eyes.
“How did you know it was me?”
“I’d know you anywhere,” he hummed, the sound deep, but I heard it all the same amidst the cacophony of the room. We were inches apart.
My eyes narrowed.
What was his plan tonight? He had to have one.
“Care to dance?” he asked, offering me his hand.
Everything within me recoiled, knowing what he was, what he wanted—from me, from Vince. Yet, at the same time, I forced myself to ignore the strength in his cheekbones, the charming way his hair fell around his ear. Like the girl within me saw him for face-value, his attractiveness—or maybe it was the fact that he was a predator and I knew I was within his grasp. A certain primal part of me that told me to get close, to let myself be taken.
Give up the fight and maybe I’d make it out alive.
Make him believe it. Bring him upstairs .
Without a word, I placed my hand in his. I couldn’t corner him if I didn’t play the part. Even if he made my skin crawl in more ways than one.
“Why the frown?” he asked, though he grinned as he pulled me closer, my breasts against his chest, his arm around my waist. I gasped at the sudden movement. “I haven’t put you off, have I?”
“You’re awfully comfortable—”
“Yes,” he said, dark eyes intense as they skimmed my face, my neck, my collarbones. His nose coming so close to mine. “You inspire a comfort in me, Miss Helena. I quite like holding you to me. Feeling you.”
My frown turned to a scowl, no matter how much I resisted or tried to act like he didn’t disgust me.
He only laughed.
“Don’t get too used to it,” I said.
“Why? Because of your loyalty to Vince?” There was a delighted arch to his brow. His cool hand wrapped around my own, his grip strong. He pulled me into a sway, pressing our bodies closer, his chest hard against mine.
I truly was trapped by him now, his arm caging me against him. And it was so different from the way Vince held me, the way Vince pressed our bodies together. I glanced around the room, hoping to spot his familiar face somewhere, or Dixon’s— someone .
“What do you want from him?” I asked.
“Worried he’ll see you dancing with another?” His voice was low, lilting, not the least bit concerned.
Hoping he sees me with you.
“I noticed an interesting letter in the paper the other day,” Marcel mused, whirling me around, moving us so quickly I couldn’t stay steady on my feet. Solely dependent on him to keep me upright. His hand tightened at my hip.
My stomach was in knots. I grit my teeth. “And?”
“A million dollars.” He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear. “That’s a lot of money, Helena Quintrell .” He said my last name like it was damning.
I looked him right in the eyes. “You don’t need a million dollars. ”
“No?” He laughed again, the sound deceptively endearing. “How would you know? Have you been doing some research on me? Maybe I’m dirt poor. Maybe I was once a printer in another life.”
A flicker of anger sparked, the emotions threatening to bubble up. Marcel knew what he was doing. He’d been doing his research.
And if he knew Lucas, too, I was done for.
Marcel sighed dramatically. “His poor parents. And they didn’t even know he was alive.”
My stomach dropped.
“Well, alive as could be.”
I searched the crowd for Veronica, for anyone . One of them had to know I was here by now.
But the balcony above was all masked partygoers. The servers couldn’t even weave through the crowd, staying to the outside of the dancefloor, watching with clear, emotionless expressions. None of them noticed me, either.
“Once I revealed the truth to them,” he leaned in closer again, his lips brushing my ear, “they were devastated. How could their son rise up to the top and leave them behind? How could he be so rich and leave them so poor?”
I swore I felt his tongue on my ear, sending chills down through my shoulders, down my spine. I shut my eyes against the sensation, against the brightness of the room, the racing of my heart.
“Don’t worry, Helena,” he whispered again, his hands tight on me .
His fangs were so close. He could bite me and no one could do anything about it.
“I relieved them of their problem,” he said. “They don’t have to worry anymore.”
God, he was sick.
Then, he really did press his lips to my neck. I cried out, the sound swallowed by the cacophony of the party. Shoving against him with all my strength, I tried to wrench myself away, but he didn’t budge, his grip on me too strong.
His tongue was hot, teasing my ear and my neck, threatening that bite, and I wasn’t sure he’d pull away.
He’d bite me and drain me.
He had looked at me with such bloodlust before. He would do it with glee.
“Relax,” he breathed. “Your heart is beating a mile a minute.” He traced his nose along my jaw, against my cheek. Such an intimate caress, one I’d felt over and over again from Vince—the way he’d press his face into my neck as though to cement himself to me.
“Have I ever harmed you?”
I clenched my jaw so hard I thought I’d hear a crack. “No,” I managed.
“Have I been nothing but truthful to you?” he murmured, speaking against the flesh of my throat.
To anyone else, it just appeared like he was kissing me, kissing my neck. No one would be the wiser. No one likely even noticed, caught up in their own dancing, the other women too preoccupied with the men holding them, the men too preoccupied with the girls in their arms .
None of them knew there was a vampire in their midst.
He could pull himself away from me and turn on any one of them in a split second.
There were probably other vampires in the crowd. Some of his allies.
If I ran, would I even be able to lose him? Or would a stranger dig their nails into my arm just for him to catch me again?
“You don’t know me.” I forced myself to speak.
“But I want to.” His leg came between mine, my bare thighs against his clothed ones, his arm around me, crushing me to him. “You’re right,” he breathed. “I don’t need a million dollars. I think I’ll just keep you for myself.”
“Let go.” The words came out of me in hardly more than a whisper.
He just chuckled. “Why, so you can go running back to your boyfriend?”
“You don’t want me.”
“Playing hard to get isn’t going to go in your favor.” His voice darkened. “What does he do for you, anyway? He came back to America years ago, and it took him this long to get you back? And something tells me you don’t really know who he is…”
“Let go ,” I insisted, pushing against him, however futile.
“Didn’t you know that he’s been paying Lucas off?” Marcel said in my ear.
I froze.
I felt the exhale of a chuckle on my throat. His hands tightening on me, one hand curling into my hair.
“Didn’t you know Vince is the one that told Lucas to marry you off? ”
My heart paused, a mini-death, growing cold. Though something in my chest broke. “You’re lying.”
Marcel pulled away, just enough for me to see the glint in his eye, the grin plastered on his face. “Why would I lie to you, my dear? I am not a liar.”
He brushed some hair out of my face, pulling the mask off. He threw it to the floor, where it was immediately crushed under feet. The people around us moved about as though we weren’t even there—never bumping into us, giving us a sort of privacy in their midst.
“Why would he do that?” My hands shook against Marcel’s chest.
Don’t believe him. He’s a liar.
“Didn’t you know he’s been threatening your family all along?” he continued, sneering, enjoying this.
I shook my head. It couldn’t be true.
How would he know?
He’s lying, he’s just trying to get you to run away with him—
I didn’t want to be here anymore. I couldn’t breathe, my lungs feeling shallow.
Movement above. A shock of auburn hair at the balcony. I almost cried out in relief, the sob pulled from me involuntarily at the sight of him.
Vince stood there, like he did my first night here, when he found me— he found me —amongst a crowd and zeroed in like he only had eyes for me.
Only this time, cold fury hardened his face. Hands gripping the banister so tight I thought I saw them splinter. He wore no mask, either—for once standing out against his partygoers, instead of blending in.
He watched Marcel cling to me, hands wandering. A crack to his visage, and whatever he kept locked up within himself, nearly came spilling out, teeth bared.
There’s always collateral.
I couldn’t do anything. I had failed, and now Vince would start a bloodbath in the middle of a crowd of humans.
My cold companion chuckled, pressing his face to mine, gripping my jaw so we both gazed up at the second level, at the enraged vampire standing there.
“Look at that. We’ve been caught.”
The rest had to be nearby. Séra, Dixon—Veronica would stop Marcel if we got outside—
But Veronica was supposed to let someone know Marcel was here. She was supposed to be guarding entry from the front door, waiting to see him creep up. And she hadn’t. He could’ve come in another way, but why do that just to join the fray in the main rooms?
Unless he didn’t mean to face Vince here. He planned on getting out.
“Ah, he’s angry.” Marcel spoke with the same tone from the afternoon he came to taunt Vince. Basking in the reaction, waiting to see what happens.
It had been a matter of seconds, but felt like forever. Vince stared as though he couldn’t believe what he saw. Icy gray eyes taking in the scene—his human lover in the hands of one of his enemies—before he took in the rest of the room. I saw it in his eyes: he wanted to just jump down from the second story, to get to us quicker.
I wished I could shout loud enough for him to hear me, to wait, to not do anything too rash—
His teeth were out, glinting bright white against his skin, almost bristling like an animal.
He looked at me, to me , for a moment, the message clear, before he turned and ran.
“No!”
“We only have so long now,” Marcel said in my ear. He began to move us, whirling me around but keeping an arm around my waist. It didn’t take long for me to realize we were heading back to the front door.
I dug my heels into the floor. “Wait!”
It did nothing against his inhuman strength, moving me like I was a rag doll and weighed nothing.
My heels only skidded along the floor, leaving scuffs that would be gone by sunrise. The people dancing around us, the human crowd, parted for Marcel and me, none of them looking at us. Like we weren’t even there.
None of them were looking.
No one noticed my struggle. Like they were entranced.
“Wait!” I shouted again, digging my fingers into the arm around my waist.
This was going so horribly wrong. People were going to die .
And where were our friends? We couldn’t do this alone. Vince couldn’t take him on, one-to-one, I couldn’t bear to see it—
If Vince died —
Marcel laughed, glancing behind his shoulder, eyes focusing on something I couldn’t see. His fangs were on full display, those sharp teeth that had been seconds from puncturing my flesh.
When he looked at me again, his pupils were pinpricks. Crazed, like the madman he was.
“Do you not like being in my arms?” he asked. He didn’t move any quicker, almost as though he was unbothered by the chase. Oozing a confidence that made me nervous, a darkness souring my tongue. “You’re not trying very hard.”
How had the evening turned this way?
It was supposed to be simple—I would lead him into a suite, and Vince and the others would be there, and Vince would take care of it. Marcel was supposed to be dead . But with every step closer to the front door, my heart picked up pace, rattling in my chest, telling me to get out of here .
“Interesting how no one else comes to your rescue,” Marcel said, but the way he said it made my blood freeze in my veins.
What had he done?
“Let go of me!” I growled, unable to even touch my feet to the ground.
“And Lloyd Dixon is here, too,” Marcel went on, dragging me past the threshold into the foyer. The devils above watched on, grinning at the devil who had his arms around me. All the while, the rest of the party went on like nothing was happening. Bursts of laughter all around me, lovers embracing, drunken carousing, with little care for the girl being dragged away against her will.
“Where’s his gal, that beautiful blonde?”
My head snapped up at that, staring daggers into Marcel. “If you touch her—”
“I don’t need to,” Marcel smirked.
He had pulled me all the way to the front door. Vince was still somewhere inside, no one else coming to my rescue.
I searched the crowd, pleading with every god in my head that Vince would appear.
What the fuck had Marcel done?
I had walked right into a fucking trap.
“I don’t need to hurt your little friend, because you’re going to come with me without a fight.” Marcel looked at me in seriousness for the first time this evening, the deadly side of him seeping through his gaze. Eyes flickering to my neck once more, the tip of his tongue tracing a route along his lips. A threat. “If you come with me, Vince and your friend will be safe. I’ll leave them alone.”
I wanted to scream. To bash my fists against his face.
“You won’t be able to get me out of this house,” I said, hoping he saw how much I hated him. How much I wanted to kill him. A heat lined my eyes, watery anger threatening to spill. “You’re outnumbered.”
Marcel grinned one last time. It was almost a sad, curious smile, like he expected more from me. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
And we were invisible to the crowd.
We were at the front door, the heat of the manor escaping in a breeze to the outside. As people walked out, just as many, if not more, walked in. Only dozens of minutes ago I’d been standing right here, ready to take this creature on, and somehow, everything had gone so wrong.
“Ah, there he is!”
Like Marcel was greeting a friend .
But it was Dixon who stood before us, blocking the exit to the outside.
“Dixon!” I breathed.
Thank god he had come. I wasn’t sure he’d really help Vince.
His glare was tangible, his loathing for the vampire clear. “Marcel.” His lip curled, his own fang daring to peek out of his lips. But he didn’t move. Rooted to the spot.
Marcel paused in his steps. His fingers gripped my hips. “What will it be, Dixon?”
“Do something!” The tears threatened to spill over.
His eyes slid to me, and he faltered for a moment—just long enough for me to see that hesitation. But he didn’t move. Rooted to the spot.
He was holding himself back.
“ Dixon !”
I had to be going crazy. Why wasn’t he doing anything?
And then all my breath, all my fight, left me as he stepped to the side.
“Motherfucker!” I shouted, wet tracks staining my cheeks. Beating against Marcel’s body, my fists smashing into his hold on me.
Dixon’s eyes flashed, his resolve cracking. His hands were in fists at his sides.
“How could you? Goddamn liar !”
“Oh, hush now.” Marcel pushed me to keep moving.
Not a person turned their head.
“I had no choice.” Dixon’s nostrils flared. “He threatened Flora.” And he watched as Marcel marched me right past him. Doing nothing to stop the vampire from taking me away.
No, no, no, no, no —
A shout came from the crowd behind us.
“ Don’t you fucking dare !”
Vince emerged with all the fury of a vengeful god, shoving bodies out of his way as he stormed toward us.
I didn’t recognize him. His eyes had turned so dark, they were almost wholly black. His veins had darkened, deep indigo webs at his neck, his hands.
“If you don’t get your hands off of her, I’ll rip you to fucking shreds.”
Somehow, amidst the raucous sounds, I heard his deep growl, entirely otherworldly and animalistic. It sent all my hairs on end. But relief coursed through me.
This was the beast that looked out at me through those eyes.
This was the beast that came back for me.
This was the beast I loved.
I reached for him, hand outstretched over Marcel’s shoulder. “Vince!”
We were outside, on the front step, moving further and further away—
In a flurry of movement, Dixon was suddenly on top of Vince, wrestling him to the ground.
I screamed, watching Vince’s body hit the floor with a sickening thud .
He bared his teeth, all that rage directed at the one man. He punched and clawed and there was blood everywhere, spatter flying away from the fight, landing on other guests, who cried out at the fight .
But Dixon was a Born vampire and had about twenty years on Vince.
In moments he had Vince in a headlock, arm wrapped tight around my lover’s neck from behind. Vince kicked at the ground, clawed hands tearing at Dixon’s arms.
So much blood.
“How could you?” I sobbed, even though Dixon couldn’t hear me, my vision growing blurry.
Marcel pulled me away, turning, so he blocked the view with his body. He rolled his eyes at my tears as he led me away. I wanted to collapse, to fall to the ground and let it swallow me whole, but he kept me upright, dragging me on.
“You’ll learn that love is dangerous,” he said with grim finality. “It forces your hand.”