50
When I say the name she looks as though she’s seen a ghost.
“I ah, I don’t, ah..”
“Don’t lie to me, Catriona.”
Her eyes wander around the room, and I realise she might be more forthcoming without an audience.
Miranda, Valérie, and Silke are staring at me as though they’ve never seen me before and hanging on every word.
‘Welcome to my world, ladies. Blood, murder, destruction. Not the fairy tale you imagined.’
Yet there’s one person in this room totally inured to me ripping someone’s heart out in front of her.
“Do something about that,” I growl, pointing to her arm where her IV’s ripped out, blood now leaching onto the bedcovers.
She glances down and frowns as though unable to comprehend what I’ve asked as her blood continues to spill. If I didn’t know better I’d say she looks like she might vomit.
“Catriona, stop the bleeding.”
Slowly, as though a zombie, she ineffectually covers the wound with her hand, shuddering as blood begins to leak through her fingers.
I scowl at Miranda, the one nearest to her and the one most likely to make any sense.
“What’s wrong with her?”
“The doctor injected her with something.”
‘Christ.’
Nodding, I leave the room in quick strides to issue my instructions to the vampire guards.
They’d done well to identify the man disguised as a doctor and alerted me immediately.
I expected no less; they were hires from my family estate and answer only to me.
I’ve completely broken the rules by having them with me, but now that I have them on site I’ve decided to keep them around.
Wolf agreed it was probably a good idea given that we still don’t know where Asumpta is either, and neither of us would put it past her to do something bizarre.
But it wasn’t a threat from a vampire obsessed with me that had prompted me to bring the guards in.
Catriona’s last words in the ambulance, the fear in her tone, had made me think twice about becoming complacent about the threat from her pursuers.
I hadn’t heard back from Falcon as to whether he’d dispatched her chief enemy, and there’d been no sign of anything untoward in Seville, but if she was still worried, I wasn’t taking any chances.
After all, she’d evaded them for three years, and they still hadn’t given up.
I couldn’t be bothered, though, trying to convince the director that there could still be a threat, so I’d made a call.
Fortunately when I received the notification from my guards about the security breach I was already on the premises and making my way to the wing where the contestants were being held.
I’d instructed the guards to let the fake doctor into the room so I could catch and question him, but when I’d seen Catriona’s face and the looming needle, I’d acted impulsively.
Threat negated, as Wolf would say.
‘Except she’d still been injected with something. I’d risked her life in order to get information.’
“Get the other contestants to another room. Double the guard and find me a real doctor.”
“My lord, your friend asked me to pass on a message.”
“My friend?”
“Yes, the royal; she didn’t give me her name.”
“Royal? What did she look like?”
“Tall, beautiful, raven hair,” he says before clearing his throat loudly.
‘Christ! Please tell me Asumpta isn’t fucking around. That’s all I need on top of the goddamned mafia.’
“What was her message?” I sigh heavily, making a mental note to call Falcon as soon as possible.
“She said to tell you, ‘there will be no other’ — that was it.”
“Fucking great,” I shake my head.
I’m about to question him further and set new orders about ‘friends’ when I hear my name called and turn to see the director jogging towards me from the end of the corridor, camera crew hot on his heels.
‘What the fuck is he doing here?’
“Wait, wait,” he shouts as the guards begin wheeling out the other contestants.
“Mr Dott, this is no place for you and your crew right now. Why are you here? I told no one I was visiting tonight.”
“Well,” he puffs, “Viscount, odd as it is, you’ve shown your partiality to the Italian contestant. We thought to film your reunion now that she’s regained consciousness.”
“And you knew this how?”
“The camera in her room, of course. We rushed over when we heard you’d left your lodgings. It seems we missed some action?”
“You could say that,” I frown. “Someone attacked the contestants.”
I don’t bother telling him that one in particular was targeted, or that a crazy vampire woman obsessed with me also visited with fuck only knows what plan in mind.
“Attacked?” He stares at me as though I’ve gone mad.
“Yes. Perhaps a fan wanting a particular outcome. Who knows? Catriona was injected with something. I need to question her without the cameras. When I’m satisfied, I’ll allow you in to do your worst.”
“We can’t film anything about the attack. The producers will want this one covered up just like the others,” he says, shrugging. “But if Catriona is involved, that figures.”
“Figures how?”
“Ah, didn’t I tell you? I’m sure I mentioned it…”
“Mr Dott, my patience grows thin.”
“Right, ah, well, we thought, security and the selectors that is, that the cartel must be involved in some way with the attacks, since we hadn’t had any problems since the Mexican took a bullet in the brain. But apparently there have been suggestions that the Italian is in some way compromised.”
“Compromised how?” I frown.
“Not entirely sure of the details,” he shrugs, “but there’s a push to have her eliminated sooner rather than later. I thought you knew this and that’s why you bit her in Seville, but then you stopped, so…” he shrugs.
“Mr Dott, you told me nothing of the sort.”
“Well, I have now…”
“When you say a ‘push’ to have her eliminated, are you suggesting the show is going to be rigged somehow?”
“God no,” he looks sincerely shocked at my suggestion, which strikes me as ridiculous given the history of this Game. “No, no, no. We were just going to let nature take its course. But certainly we’d encourage you to deepen your connection with other contestants, if possible.”
“Encourage how?”
“Oh, ah, you know, romantic ways.”
“Mr Dott,” I bare my fangs, allowing them to run all the way out, “I don’t have time for your bullshit right now. Run along before I give you a demonstration of my romantic ways with men.”
“Ugh,” he shivers as I lean close and pretend to sniff near his throat. “Please, Viscount, that won’t be necessary. Just one quick reunion scene?” He adds hopefully.
“You heard what I said,” I snap, withdrawing my fangs and turning from him. “Go interview the other contestants; I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to make the most out of Valérie’s hysteria.”
Sighing, he and the camera crew turn to follow the guards.
Striding back into Catriona’s room I hurl a chair at the camera in the top right-hand corner of the room, smashing it to bits, before spinning back to her.
She doesn’t seem alarmed, but her face is very pale. A sheen of sweat is beading her top lip, and her heart is thundering.
Fortunately for her, and me, she’s stopped bleeding. The dead man’s blood is the only thing I can smell in the room. Still, I’m not taking any chances.
“Now,” I say quietly as I move to pull up another chair next to her bed and withdraw a white silk ribbon from my pocket, deftly wrapping it around the scars on her throat. “Talk.”