Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
LYRA
Achill crept down my spine as I stared at the brass door knocker shaped like Medusa’s head. It seemed a lifetime ago that I had stood here with Kaden, not fully trusting the male at my side.
So many things had changed since then, though the one thing that hadn’t was my utter disdain for vampires.
The plan was simple: Slip into Mirabella’s party using her mortal pets as a cover, find the hands, and get out. With a little luck, her clan would be so overcome with bloodlust that they wouldn’t even notice a huntress, a fae, and a Morkahlf in their midst.
Swallowing down my unease, I adjusted my neckline and checked the witchwood blade sheathed at my thigh, along with the stakes hidden beneath the gown I’d donned at the House of Guile.
It was made of the same curious gossamer fabric as the dress Kaden had given me in Adraeis, only this one was a deep shade of crimson that was a bit on the nose for a vampire party.
Adriel was dressed in a black velvet tunic with a band of silver embroidery along the cuffs. Sorsha was resplendent in a shimmering golden ball gown with a deep plunging neckline.
I hadn’t wasted much time wondering how Kaden’s residence in the mortal realm always seemed to be equipped with custom-tailored finery. I suspected that, like the Forest House, his home in the Quarter was enchanted to meet the needs of its occupants.
I’d found two leather thigh holsters in my chamber, fitted with fresh hickory stakes. Tears had pricked my eyes as I’d imagined Kaden looking out for me, even when he was a prisoner in another realm.
Standing on Mirabella’s doorstep, I could feel Adriel and Sorsha watching me expectantly. My hand shook as I reached out and ran a finger down the center of the door as I’d seen Kaden do on our last visit.
Almost at once, Medusa opened her sightless eyes, and her face twisted in a monstrous expression. I jerked back as the brass snakes began to writhe and hiss, but a second later the door creaked open and I was hit by a wave of sound.
Adriel’s face tightened as he breezed past me and Sorsha and strode into the house. He’d magicked away his wings and wore no visible weapons, but I had no doubt that Kaden’s royal guard was plenty lethal without them.
An eerie, off-kilter melody floated toward us through the open door, and Sorsha looped her arm through mine before stepping over the threshold.
The coppery tang of blood hit me first, mingling with the scent of sweat and dust and ancient things that had begun to mold.
Half a dozen pale faces whipped in our direction, and instinct had me reaching between the folds of my skirts for the stakes sheathed at my thighs.
Something told me they could scent my hunter blood and knew I’d staked hundreds of their brethren. Had word of Silas’s demise reached the far edges of the Quarter? Would these vampires find themselves in a vengeful mood now that I no longer had the protection of his hunters?
The air in the foyer was too thick, choked with the stench of blood and mildew and that sickly sweet smell all vampires carried.
They were dressed in an odd assortment of clothing, all from different eras.
The mix of velvet tailcoats, ruffled linen shirts, silk tuxedos, and formal tunics created a jarring visual effect.
Some of the males wore beards, while others were clean-shaven. But they all shared the same predatory gaze — a hungry, lustful look that made my skin crawl.
Gods, I hated vampires.
My hunter instincts hummed in warning, but I forced myself to keep moving as those blood-red eyes raked over me.
Why had I worn this dress?
The idea that we might blend in with the crowd of mortals was laughable. None of us had the glazed, half-starved look of a vampire’s pet. In that moment, I craved the protection of my leathers and the comforting weight of my weapons.
A sharp, guttural cry drew my attention to the parlor on my right, where men and women in varying states of undress were draped over the antique furniture.
Most already bore the telltale marks of vampire bites — bruised puncture wounds that branded their necks, arms, and even, in the case of one woman, the inside of her thigh.
I fought back a shudder. These weren’t the blood tourists who visited the Quarter looking for a thrill. These were the vampires’ human pets, who lived with the clan and gave their blood in exchange for the dizzying high a vamp’s venom could provide.
“Delicious,” came a sultry growl to my left, and I turned in time to see a tall blond vampire running a finger up the back of Sorsha’s arm.
The princess stiffened beside me, and I heard her breath hitch as the vampire’s gaze raked over the exposed swells of her breasts.
My insides clenched as he drew closer, but then a dark shape swirled in my periphery, and the vampire’s back slammed into the wall.
“She’s not for you,” Adriel growled, his eyes flashing dangerously as he placed himself between Sorsha and the vampire.
The male bared his teeth, exposing a pair of gleaming white fangs.
Sensing that our ruse was about to go up in smoke, I dropped my gaze to the floor and said, “We are a gift sent for the mistress of this house.”
My heart was hammering so loudly I was sure it must be stoking the bloodlust swirling in the air. Adriel stood as still as a statue as we waited for my pronouncement to land.
Still glaring at the royal guard, the vampire gave a jerky nod before straightening his dinner jacket and wandering off in search of new prey.
Releasing a shaky exhale, I cast around, wondering where we’d find Mirabella. But then I heard a trill of girlish laughter and looked up to see a pale female with auburn hair standing at the top of the stairs.
A sheer lilac nightdress draped her full figure, pooling on the floor at her feet. Loose waves fell to the small of her back, and the rouge that tinted the apples of her cheeks gave the female a youthful glow that offset the telltale pallor of death.
“A present? For me?” It was the effervescent voice of a child, and something about it sent a chill down my spine.
Sorsha stood stock-still, and Adriel shifted his body to place himself in front of the princess.
“But who would do such a thing?” she tittered, gliding down the staircase.
Mirabella moved with preternatural grace, the semitransparent fabric of her nightdress billowing around her as she descended.
Sucking in a slow breath, I tried to calm my racing heart as the vampire drew nearer.
“Lovely,” she mused, craning her neck as she reached for Adriel, trailing a finger along his jaw.
My insides felt suddenly brittle, as if they might crack under the tension radiating from the male standing beside me. But Adriel did not react, even as Mirabella’s finger continued down his chest.
“I know you,” she crooned. “You belong to Kaden, the wretch.” She jutted out her bottom lip in a pout. “You must be a present from him. An apology for how he behaved on his last visit.”
My insides clanged. The way she said it, it was as if Kaden had gotten drunk and broken a vase rather than butchering one of her friends.
She let her hand trail down Adriel’s abdomen as her gaze drifted to the princess.
To Sorsha’s credit, she did not cower before the vampire. She held her head high, the picture of regal poise as Mirabella examined her.
“Beautiful,” Mirabella simpered. “Though I prefer brunettes.”
Her gaze snapped to me, and it was all I could do to keep my hands from curling around one of the hickory stakes hidden beneath my gown.
Mirabella’s nostrils flared, and I glimpsed the serpent that lay behind those big doe eyes. “I remember you,” she whispered, her voice turning sharp. “You are the huntress.”
Inwardly, I winced.
She narrowed her gaze. “You staked Jeremiah and Ignatius.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Adriel’s hand twitch, and I remembered how he’d used his earth-wielding power in Dorthus to bring the walls of the king’s chambers crashing down.
Nervously, I eyed the huge buff-colored stones that formed the surrounding walls. “My apologies,” I choked, unable to think of a better reply.
There was no sense in lying. To an old vampire, blood was as distinct as a fingerprint. And judging by the clan that flocked to Mirabella and the casual power she wielded with a glance, Mirabella was a very old vampire.
“No matter,” she replied, wrinkling her nose. “But I am curious why Kaden would send you as an offering. His fearsome huntress.”
“Lyra,” I bit out.
“Lyra.” Mirabella savored my name, tilting her head like a cat watching a fly beat its body against a pane of glass as it tried to escape. “A beautiful name for such a brutal female. Though I suppose there is beauty in violence. At least there is when one dies by my hand.”
My stomach plummeted, and for an instant, I wrestled with how much to tell her.
The plan had already gone awry. We were supposed to infiltrate the manor posing as mortal blood bags, steal the hands, and be done with it. It now seemed unlikely that Mirabella would let us out of her sight, let alone give us access to the crypt where she hoarded her treasures.
“He is . . . very sorry,” I rasped.
“I doubt it. The Dark Prince does not concern himself over a slight such as that.” She narrowed her eyes, studying me more closely, and it was all I could do to hold back a shiver.
“No. Kaden wants something. If I didn’t know better, I would guess he is using the three of you as a mouth-watering distraction while he slithers into my home like a snake. ”
For a moment, the room was silent apart from the rapid drumbeat of our hearts and the distant whimper of one of the vampire’s mortal pets. I didn’t know what to say.
“Take them to the cells,” Mirabella ordered, her voice suddenly cold.
My chest constricted as the other vampires started to move, and I jumped as an icy hand clenched around my arm. Ripping the panels of my skirt aside, I palmed one of the stakes sheathed at my thigh and rounded on the male holding me.