Chapter 9
Marcus satin a chair in the darkest corner of the resort’s lounge, waiting for his Chosen to meet him for dinner. With Dove gone at the spa most of the day, he’d actually got a bit of work done. He tossed back another swig of bourbon and glared at the hallway. Given the carefree way Dove presented herself to the world, it couldn’t take this long to get ready. By the gods, if she embarrassed him, this would be the last time he allowed her in the public’s eye.
His temples throbbed. Already, he wished he were back in his penthouse, away from all this light, laughter, and noise. He dreaded the party ahead. Fucking Xavier. It wasn’t enough that he’d blackmailed him into visiting his garish resort. He also expected him to socialize. The bastard held Marcus over the coals and knew it.
The night promised to be hellish. Who did Xavier invite anyway? It wouldn’t surprise him if he’d sold tickets to this freak show. Those of the upper echelon would love nothing more than to gawk at a fallen lord. Already, he could picture the pity in some, smug laughter in others. Their curious eyes dissecting his disfigured body.
Movement from the hallway captured his attention. He turned, taking in the vision of his Chosen. “It’s about time you—” She stalked toward him, looking like some Greek goddess come to life. Thoughts scrambled.
She’s…
Gold straps circled her ankles. Sparkling material swathed her curvy hips, parting over one shapely thigh. Above the silken waistline, her stomach was bare. The expanse of skin invited a male to tuck his palm into the small of her back. Gilded fabric crisscrossed her full breasts. Her gleaming shoulders were exposed, leaving her graceful neck unadorned.
He should have purchased jewelry for her. Diamonds. Except they would have paled beside the brand he’d place on her throat. His mark. His. Blood pounded in his veins.
She’s beautiful.
Her silver curls were drawn away from her temples. The rest left to cascade in a thick silver waterfall down her back. He imagined his fingers running through the silken length. First, he’d fist his hand in the silk at her nape. Drag her head back. Run his nose along the column of her gorgeous throat. Slide his tongue against her heated flesh.
She’s…
Mine.
Something inside of him reached out to her. Inky tendrils swirled around her skirts. Shadows rolled beneath her feet like a ceremonial carpet. Despite the murk surrounding her, she strode forward, head high. While already entranced by her appearance, this new image held him spellbound. She seemed an artist rendering of darkness and light.
My light.
Voices echoed, and a door slammed, the shock enough to snap him from his stupor.
No! What was he doing? In his moment of distraction, the demon’s energy had pushed to the surface.
“Back off, you bastard,”Marcus snarled the mental command.
“Want to touch,” grumbled the demon.
“Over my dead body.”
“Again?” taunted the demon.
Marcus gritted his teeth and tensed his insides, pushing the creature down. The beast withdrew with a frustrated growl, the shadows fading with him.
“Hey,” Dove said, her soft jasmine fragrance a soothing balm for his jagged nerves. “Sorry I’m late.” She hitched up her skirt, revealing slim ankles wrapped in glittering straps. “I forgot my sandals and had to circle back. I figured this was a no shirt, no shoes no service kind of dinner. Although, after meeting Xavier, I’m not sure that’s entirely true.” Gold rings glinted on her toes. For some reason, he found this incredibly attractive.
He cleared his throat. “Forgiven.”
“You look nice.” She beamed at him, eyes warming as they slid the width of his shoulders, taking in his lightweight hooded tunic and linen slacks. The way she looked at him, he almost believed she meant it. His face warmed under his cowl. The praise was her attempt at kindness, nothing more. He was a scarred monster hiding beneath a hood. Did she want something from him? Was that the reason for the compliment?
“How about me?” She offered a teasing smile, holding her arms out and twirling for him. “After spending several hours at the spa, I’m certain every inch of my body has been massaged, buffed, and moisturized.”
She was stunning, but not in a manner in which he was accustomed. Nothing about the way she looked could be purchased or faked. No matter the amount of polishing. Dove had a natural beauty about her, one that radiated from the inside out. It made him yearn for just a sip of what she offered.
As she turned, the glyph along her spine was revealed. For faeries, he’d heard it was an erogenous zone, the delicate nerves highly sensitive. His fingertips tingled with the need to stroke her there. His blood warmed, heading south. At his body’s response, he winced. Where did that thought come from?
Rather than give her the compliment she sought, and—if he were honest—deserved, he took her elbow, propelling her in the direction of the dining room. “Come. Xavier is waiting.”
If she was disappointed with his reaction, she didn’t show it. Instead, she kept pace at his side. In this, she earned more than a crumb of his respect. His Chosen wasn’t a female who needed his approval to know her own worth.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” she confessed, practically bouncing. “Who do you think Xavier invited to join us? I bet he knows a ton of fascinating people.”
She was eager for the company and the mundane small talk? He studied his ward from beneath his hood. Why wouldn’t she? She had no reason to plot, scheme, or worry about politics. For a breath of a moment, he wondered what it would be like to walk in her shoes—or bare feet, as she seemed to prefer.
Before he could explore the idea further, they stood before a pair of massive wooden doors, heavily inlayed with gold and sparkling gems. Two guards waited on either side, bare-chested, hips swathed in linen, heavy swords at their sides. As Dove and Marcus approached, they bowed their heads and opened the doors.
One of them announced in a booming voice, “Lord Marcus Steele and his Chosen, Dove Laurent.”
Anticipation bubbled out of his effervescing Chosen. She practically quivered at his side. He imagined she’d be quite disappointed by the end of this evening. For some strange reason, the thought didn’t sit well.
Dove’s gasp drew his focus to the situation at hand. Before them stretched a fifty-foot table, heavily laden with trays teeming with tropical fruit, exotic flower arrangements, and gilded china. Decadence at its finest and most obnoxious. At the head of the table was none other than Xavier, the space wide enough, two buxom females sat on either side of him, or on him, more or less. One nibbled his earlobe, her enormous breasts pressed into his side.
Along the length were four couples of differing races and origins, all of them chatting and smiling. The chatter dimmed but didn’t stop as they entered. There was nobody he recognized. Nobody of importance, at least. None to carry the tale of his evening here back to his House.
“Marcus!” Xavier bellowed, waving him over like he summoned a taxi. “Come, I’ve saved the best seat for you.” Sure enough, two chairs on his right were open. Marcus settled Dove into her place, then accept the spot closest to Xavier. Strangely, the chairs across from them remained vacant.
“Beautiful, Dove,” Xavier exclaimed, wine sloshing over the rim of his goblet, onto the ivory toga he wore. “Tell me, how was your day?”
“Wonderful,” she gushed, bracing her forearms on the table. “In fact, I can’t recall when I’ve had a better one.”
“Wonderful, wonderful.” Xavier burped into his fist, gold rings glittering on his plump fingers. “Allow me to introduce two of my favorite concubines, Persephone and Seraphina.”
They were fictitious names, of course, all part of the false grandeur Xavier exuded, though Dove didn’t seem bothered. She exchanged pleasantries, complimenting the women’s hair and accessories while Marcus endeavored not to inhale the male’s addictive pheromones. For each person, the incubus’s fragrance became what they most desired. Tonight, Xavier smelled like moonlight, with a touch of jasmine.
“And you, Lord Steele, tell me, how do you find Adara Island? Is it everything you’ve heard?”
It was exactly as he’d heard. Loud, gaudy, too bright, surrounded by miles of salty ocean on all sides and ruled by an egotistical narcissist with aspirations of grandeur. “I fear the rumors are true,” he responded in a tight tone, failing to hide his disgust.
Xavier’s jovial smile waned, and he canted his head, taking Marcus’s measure.
“True, so true,” Dove said, covering his blunder. “It’s all true. What isn’t to love about this place? The sun, the ocean, the accommodations, the hospitality.” At Dove’s glowing review, Xavier’s smile returned. She was clever, using flattery to bolster Xavier’s ego. Perhaps Marcus hadn’t given his Chosen enough credit. Still, he couldn’t have her believing it was okay to undermine him.
“And that spa,” she added.“I mean, come on. The seaweed wrap is out of this world. My skin has never felt this smooth. What do you think, Lord Steele?” She thrust her forearm under his nose.
Delicate veins ran beneath her golden flesh. Her light floral scent filled his senses. Warmth flooded his system, and his fangs ached. More than once she’d offered him her vein, disappointed when he declined. Did she think to entice him here in front of witnesses, where she believed she was safe?
Below the table, he pulled the glove off his uninjured hand. She gasped as his bare fingers closed over her wrist. With her focus riveted on him, he drew her arm beneath his hood, pressed a heated kiss to her wrist, and tongued her pulse.
“Smoother than silk,” he murmured, lowering her arm, pressing her hand against his thigh. When she remained frozen, he leaned in, whispering, “Breathe.”
She sucked a breath like she’d resurfaced after diving into the ocean. Her face turned a delightful shade of pink and she jerked her hand from his lap, rubbing her wrist. He smirked to see goose bumps pebble her flesh.
Persephone—or was it Seraphina—fanned her cheeks. “How titillating. I’ve always suspected the bond between Chosen and benefactor was a sensual one. To share such an intimate connection must be so satisfying. Do tell us, sweet Dove. What’s it like?”
To Marcus’s dismay, the discussion around the table came to a lull. Heads swiveled their way. He’d expected to draw unwanted attention due to his injuries, not because of his Chosen.
He cringed and leaned forward, formulating a generic response, when Dove squeezed his thigh to silence him.
His molars ground. It seemed she hadn’t learned her lesson at all.
“I became Vivian Laurent’s Chosen at sixteen. While far from sexual, it was the deepest connection I’ve ever shared with anyone. We understood each other on a level most couldn’t comprehend. It’s only recently I’ve paired with Lord Steele.” Her mysterious smile even had Marcus hanging onto her next word. “Our relationship is exciting and new. Blossoming in so many surprising ways.”
“Before our eyes, I gather.” Xavier’s rounded cheeks pulled into a knowing smirk.
“Yes,” she whispered. That small admission had Marcus straightening in his seat.
Was it? No, surely. None but the most twisted of individuals would find him attractive now. Regardless of how she felt toward him, complicating their arrangement was a very bad idea.
Xavier refilled his goblet, sloshing wine onto the tablecloth. “Consider me honored to play host to your budding romance.” He raised his glass. “To new relationships, good company, overindulgence, and merriment.”
Around the table, toasts were made. Marcus drank deeply from his cup.
Rather than withdraw, Dove kept her hand on his thigh. For once, he wished he could read her thoughts. Did she do so to encourage him? Did he want to be encouraged? He inhaled, drawing in her enticing jasmine fragrance, and his thoughts grew fuzzy. Perhaps he did. The warmth of her palm branded his leg. It had been a long time since he enjoyed another’s touch. He found he didn’t hate the contact.
The room was thick with rich scents. Around him, laughter and good spirit abound. Gauzy draperies fluttered from the open windows. The gentle ocean breeze cooled the sultry evening air. It wasn’t often he found himself in such an exotic setting during a dinner party. Most were stuffy affairs. To his surprise, he didn’t hate this either.
Dove sipped from her wine glass while her fingers caressed the inside of his thigh. Blood rushed to his cock, and he swallowed a groan. Look at him, reacting no better than a randy youth. Did she think she was safe from retribution while they were in the company of others? Foolish girl. Marcus was the master of this particular game.
He parted the opening in her skirt and rested his bare hand on her knee. Dove uttered a squeak and choked on a mouthful of wine. She slapped her napkin to her lips, coughing and sputtering.
“Everything okay?” he asked, fighting a smile.
“Yep.” She gasped, tipping her head toward him, whispering, “What are you doing?”
He leaned closer, pressing his lips to her ear. “Keeping up the ruse you initiated without consulting me. The one where we play the role of a lusty couple with stars in our eyes. Well played, by the way. It’s exactly the kind of thing to endear us to Xavier.”
“All part of my plan,” she said, sounding breathless.
Little liar. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” He should have. Why he didn’t was a blur at the moment. The tempting vein in her neck thrummed with an enticing rhythm. He placed a chaste kiss on her shoulder, and her chest heaved with her quickened breath. Her breasts rising in an enticing manner. Seemed his Chosen was caught in a trap of her own making.
He stroked the inside of her knee, smirking at her indrawn breath. The female seated beside him was his. It was his blood that flowed in her veins, claiming her body and soul. He glided his fingertips higher, teasing her inner thigh. Stroking, drawing closer to her core. What would he find if he explored further? The white-knuckled grip she had on her wine glass taunted him to find out. And why shouldn’t he? She is mine.
Before Marcus could make good on the driving impulse, the doors to the dining room swung open, the guard announcing, “Magister Tiberius Steele and guest Carina Petrov.”
Marcus whipped his head around, ice sliding through his veins. What. The. Hell.
In walked his uncle, striding directly to their host. Xavier rose half out of his chair and extended his hand to Tiberius. “Welcome, welcome. So glad you could join us, magister.”
“Apologies for my tardiness.” Tiberius settled into the chair on Xavier’s left, his companion beside him. “I planned to arrive this morning but ran into some difficulties while supervising an arrest.”
“A ruler’s work is never done.” Xavier sighed, as though he knew the meaning of the word.
“Uncle,” Marcus said, tone chilly.
“Marcus,” Tiberius countered.
“I’m surprised to see you here.”
“I could say the same. Still, when Xavier invited me to this soiree, saying my nephew would be in attendance, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to relax while spending time with family.” Tiberius stroked the shoulder of the female seated next to him. “Marcus, you remember Carina.”
Intimately. After their one night together, she’d done everything in her power to trap him into giving her a second. She’d even gone so far as to spread rumors they were engaged. Since his accident, he hadn’t heard a word from her.
“Carina.” Marcus dipped his head at the ebony-haired viper.
While swathed in a white halter dress with an orchid tucked behind her ear, she was far from innocent. She pursed her glossy lips, scanning his form. “My poor, poor Marcus. It’s so awful what happened to you at your casino opening. My sympathies for your suffering. I’ve heard your injuries are horribly disfiguring. Tell me, has it affected you”—she dropped her poisonous stare to his crotch—“in all ways?”
And there was the antagonism he’d been expecting. Carina studied him with morbid curiosity, attempting to peek beneath his hood. Why he’d given her even one night, he couldn’t remember. She was as bloodthirsty as they came. Perhaps, at the time, he’d considered them kindred spirits. His tolerance for her venom had fled the moment he’d left her bed.
Dove stiffened beside him and slamming her glass down with a startling amount of force. She aimed her too bright smile at his uncle. “Magister Steele, will you please tell us more about this arrest you’ve made? It sounds like dangerous work.” Marcus’s little defender was quick to change the subject. Her outrage on his behalf, charming, but far from necessary.
Carina gasped, smacking her manicured fingers down on the table, making their glasses jump. “How dare you speak to the magister in such a familiar way? Best you mind your place, Chosen,” she sneered the word as though it were a disease.
Xavier interrupted. “Now, now. All are welcome and considered equals at my table. Like Dove, I too would like to hear more about this arrest.”
Carina snorted and sank back into her chair.
Tiberius smirked, seeming to enjoy the confrontation. “It was nothing too exciting. Just another arrest of a Zion conspirator. The offender was known to have donated large sums of money to his cause.”
Carina stroked his arm. “My dearest Tiberius, you’re too modest. Without the task force you created, I fear the underworld would be overrun by criminals.” She pressed her hand to her ample breasts, her expression contorting into some semblance of sincerity. “Tiberius and his task force are working night and day, arresting all known sympathizers. They are the true heroes among us. People give far too much credit to that stuffy old clan leader, Victor Custodis. He and his little army of miscreants handled the situation poorly from the beginning.”
Marcus pressed his lips together. In the past few years, the animosity between Tiberius and Victor had grown to a critical level. Problem was, Victor and his men had managed Council law enforcement for decades. This wasn’t the time to go to war with the powerful leader. Not with Zion instigating a rebellion. He prayed his uncle wasn’t vindictive to the point of shooting the Council in the foot.
Xavier frowned. “I hear those conspirators are cast into the prison realm. Many have their assets confiscated. Harsh consequences, don’t you think?”
“Not at all,” Tiberius said. “There needs to be zero tolerance for those who seek to destroy our way of life. None are above the law of the Council. It’s important we treat all offenders equally.” He met Marcus’s hooded gaze, delivering his subtle warning.
The maniacal gleam in his uncle’s eye was the reason Marcus needed to find Helen, and fast. To clear himself of the false evidence she’d left, tying him to Zion. Tiberius’s witch hunt was already out of hand.
“Any theories on who this Zion character may be?” Xavier leaned back in his chair, resting his drink on his rounded stomach.
“We have a few leads. Nothing I’m at liberty to discuss,” Tiberius said.
The male seated next to Carina leaned in, stroking his thick moustache. “I hear he’s a lycan. Who else would stand to gain so much with the fall of the Council? Those werewolves have been angry ever since their leader was given a Council seat and they were forced to wear collars to suppress their beasts.”
Another guest, a woman with a narrow face and pencil-thin eyebrows, joined in. “No. He’s definitely a mage. For years, they’ve believed themselves to be above Council law.”
“Perhaps she is a faerie,” Dove interjected, incurring Carina’s heated glare. “After all, the Council has subjugated us for years, afraid if we grew too powerful, we may take over the world. After all, one of my ancestors came close eons ago.”
“How cute. It thinks it’s powerful,” sneered Carina, glaring down her nose. “Nobody in their right mind would join a rebellion led by a filthy faerie.”
“Enough politics,” Xavier exclaimed. “It’s time we discuss more pleasant topics. Have I mentioned I purchased a new helicopter?”