Thirty-Nine #2
“I am helping my court. We are standing on a knife’s edge at present, thanks to a foolish play our prince recently made, and I will protect these vampires at all costs. If that means feeding you to the wolves, I won’t hesitate to do that instead.”
He leaned past her and opened a door she hadn’t realized they’d been pressed up next to.
“Lock the door. Do not open it for anyone until I come for you again.”
He didn’t say the precaution was to keep the prince away, but Camilla knew that was what he’d meant. The warning was there, flashing in his eyes. The only reason she hadn’t already been bitten was because Blade had intervened. Twice.
Camilla didn’t want to owe him any more favors. She sensed they didn’t come for free.
She ducked under his arm and did as he’d suggested, wondering, as the bolt slid home, how she’d control her senses the next time Zarus touched her. It seemed there were indeed some truths she couldn’t run from, no matter how hard she tried.
Blood will out, as they say.
A castle filled with vampires was perhaps the most dangerous place for someone with secrets like hers.
Blade returned directly after her bath, looking freshly bathed as well.
Camilla couldn’t help but feel disappointment when she heard his voice on the other side of the door. She’d never been the type to turn to religion, but she’d prayed Envy would be standing there, looking suspiciously close to an angel. Something she knew he’d hate.
While she’d been alone, she’d had time to go over the events leading up to her kidnapping.
The Fear Collector had given her that name, Prometheus. It was the vampire prince’s true name apparently, which made sense. Otherwise Zarus would be inundated by too many creatures speaking his name on a daily basis. The Fear Collector had either known—or bet—Camilla would say it out loud.
She was certain of it. Which meant this had to be part of the game. All she had to do was survive until Envy puzzled out the clue, if he hadn’t already done so.
Unless this was part of the game she needed to solve… her mind raced with new possibilities. If she’d been tricked into coming to the vampire court, the game master had a reason for it. There had to be something here he wanted her to find. But what?
Blade gave her an icy once-over when she kept the door half closed.
Instead of ushering her into the corridor, he pushed his way into her chamber.
“Give me your wrist.”
She clutched it to her chest. The gowns she’d found waiting for her after the bath left much of her skin bare.
The sleeveless dark plum one she wore now was the most decent, and its neckline plunged to her navel.
The right side of the skirt had a slit to her thigh, and the silk clung to her every curve, as if she’d dipped herself in paint.
Two little straps held the top in place, but barely. One quick move in any direction and she’d be on full display. She shuddered to imagine being so bare in front of the vampire prince.
“No.”
“Do you prefer to offer me your throat?”
His mouth curved into a taunting imitation of a smile as his gaze dropped to the dress’s slit. There wasn’t anything heated or sensual in his look, only mockery. Blade enjoyed reminding her that she was only a warm meal.
“There is always your femoral artery if you’re feeling a bit more daring.”
She leveled him with a hard look.
“Have you been drinking?”
“An idea came to me.”
He casually dropped onto a high-backed chair, his gaze running over her again, this time contemplatively.
“Vampires are highly territorial by nature. Even the prince wouldn’t touch what belonged to another, at least not without making a grand show of fighting for the prize. Should you be bitten by someone else, he’d have to submit an official challenge.”
“Let me guess,” she deadpanned, “ you wish to own me.”
“No, darling, I wish to get rid of you. As easily as possible.”
He leaned forward, his hands clasped loosely in front of him. If it hadn’t been for the hunger taking over his expression, he would have looked deceptively relaxed.
“One bite. One mark. Zarus won’t move on you again.”
In life things were rarely as simple as Blade was making this out to be.
In fact, whenever someone promised an easy solution to a difficult problem, it was wise to run as far and fast in the opposite direction as possible.
Camilla knew one thing with certainty: if Blade wanted her blood, that was precisely what she wouldn’t trade. He clearly had his suspicions, and she would not confirm them.
At least not willingly.
Some secrets were worth holding on to for as long as possible, no matter the cost.
“There must be another solution,” she said.
“Your demon prince won’t come, lamb. It’s you and me or you and Zarus. Unlike the prince, I won’t turn you. And I won’t try to fuck you.”
“You could simply help me escape.”
Blade’s chuckle was deep and dark.
“Where would the fun be in that?”
Camilla didn’t comment. She hadn’t expected him to help her, so his rejection was unsurprising.
He rose from the chair, a dark omen in the flesh, and motioned for her to follow.
“It seems you’ve made your choice, then. Move. We’re going to be late for dinner.”
Camilla glanced down at her silken gown again, at all the tempting skin it left on display. Blade had made it clear he didn’t view her as anything other than food, but other vampires wouldn’t feel the same.
“I sincerely hope I’m not the entrée this evening.”
She wasn’t trying to be funny, but Blade’s fathomless gaze suddenly twinkled with amusement.
“That all depends. Try to keep your wits about you and you’ll probably be fine.”