Chapter 12
Xander
There’s no other word for how Autumn looks tonight: stunning. When I saw the dress in the shop this morning, I knew she had to have it, whether she wore it to the banquet tonight or to some other event another time.
Will is going to be angry, but there’s nothing else I can do. At this point, we’ll be even. He’s gone against me when it came to inviting Autumn into our home. I’m going against him when it comes to bringing her in front of Gaius.
She will be safe. We will protect her with our lives. And Gaius needs to know that we aren’t afraid of him. Otherwise, there will be more attacks on us in our own city, when we least expect it. He wants us to go quietly, without fanfare.
We need to demonstrate to him we’re willing to go to war. Bringing Autumn to the banquet will be a show of strength.
“So, where exactly is this place?” Autumn asks.
We have to stop at a red light. She uses the opportunity to apply mascara to her lashes. I can’t help but stare, entranced, until someone behind me honks their horn and I realize the light has changed.
I clear my throat. “It’s on the outskirts of the city, the edge of an old neighborhood called Old Thirty-Three. Gaius acquired a Victorian mansion. He likely has other properties in San Esteban, purchased under different names, listed as other holdings, so as to fly under our radar.”
“Fly under your radar?” she asks. “Are you saying he isn’t allowed to be here?”
“By vampire customs, no. He should not have come here without our express permission. But our past is…complicated.”
“Complicated,” she repeats.
Her hazel eyes meet mine briefly before I turn to look back at the road.
“Yes,” I say.
I can practically hear her mind working through that. She wants to ask questions, but she isn’t sure what to ask. I’m a dick for not explaining more, but that’s nothing new.
And her sweet jasmine scent fills my nose, making it difficult to think.
How can I explain two centuries of war and abuse complicated by vampire politics, when all I want to do is pull over, recline my seat, and drag this beautiful girl over to straddle me while I direct her movements with the sexy straps of her bodice?
This sweet little mouse is so beautiful when she comes, and I could make it happen in seconds if I wanted to.
“Really,” she says, smoothing down the skirt of her gown and adding fire to my thoughts. “Where did you get my dress?”
“I saw it in a boutique and bought it earlier today. Will told me about the invitation, and I thought you might need a gown.”
Tilting her head to the side, she studies me. “You were going to sneak me to the banquet all along.”
“No.” I focus on the road. “No, not at all. I wanted your attendance to be an option, though. Then something happened tonight—Gaius showed me what he wants. This is the best way I know to send a message in return.”
“Ah.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, but the silence holds an extra weight to it.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I just…I’m the way for you to send a message. I should’ve guessed that you’re using me.”
Now her feelings are hurt. That’s not what I intended. “Look, you’re treating this evening like a date. It’s not a date. It’s a political maneuver. The sooner you understand that, the easier of a time you’ll have here. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” she says, turning to look out the window.
There’s nothing beyond but darkness broken by the occasional street light, but now that we’re reaching the edge of Old Thirty-Three, where the houses are fewer and farther apart.
I hurt her feelings. I hate that. If I could just get her to leave us and live her fragile human life with its comparatively simple trials and dangers, everything would be so much easier. She wouldn’t be sad right now, and I wouldn’t be in pain for causing her sorrow.
“What else do I need to know about Gaius?” she asks. “Does he have a frerte or sorte? An amant?”
This is more comfortable ground for me. Facts, not feelings. “He has a frerte. His name is Benjamin. Their amant is a woman named Freya. You will meet them tonight. You will not speak to them unless they speak to you. The same goes for Gaius. He is very, very dangerous, Autumn.”
We reach the driveway and I pull in. Autumn is quiet as we travel through the darkness. There are several cars parked along the paved circle in front of the house. I park near Will’s.
I help Autumn out of the car. She clings to my hand. She smells so fucking good, and I can’t look away from her gorgeous mouth. She put some kind of gloss over it, making her lips shinier than usual.
After I shut the car door, I close the distance between us until she’s pressed against the side of the car.
“Xander,” she says, her voice quiet, “what are you doing?”
My hands form fists. We’re about to walk into a mansion full of vampires, and she is an unclaimed human.
I want to grab the soft fabric of her skirt, bunch it up around her waist, and drop to my knees in front of her.
I want to imprint her scent on my skin, and take hers all over me.
Everyone should know that she’s mine and Will’s. I lean in, run my cheek along hers.
“Xander,” she says again, pulling back.
“You shouldn’t go inside without my bite,” I say.
She shoves at my shoulders. “What the fuck?”
“Please. You go in there with your neck exposed, no marks on this smooth skin, obviously unclaimed? It’s akin to ringing a dinner bell for my kind.”
“Unclaimed?”
The way she tilts her head as she asks this question lengthens her neck, makes her even more irresistible. It’s all I can do to keep from rubbing my body along hers, yanking down that bodice to expose her tits so I can play with them while I drink her blood.
“Xander,” she says. “My eyes are up here, not in my neck.”
I tear my gaze away from her throat and meet her fiery expression. “Right.”
She says, “I asked you a question. What does it mean that I’m unclaimed?”
I look at her neck briefly before exercising what little self-control I have left and focusing on her face. “It means you haven’t been marked as anyone’s amant, and you aren’t a vampire. It means you’re unclaimed. It adds extra danger for you here tonight.”
“And biting me will help with that? Will you claim me?”
“I won’t claim you. But my bite will help.”
Her hazel eyes flash with irritation. “Fine. Bite me, get it over with.”
Autumn
His fangs run along the sensitive skin on my neck.
I try not to let it turn me on, but that’s like asking water not to be wet, or fire not to be hot.
It can’t be helped. I was a goner for him as soon as he crowded me up against the side of his car.
Panties wet, legs shaking, my breasts aching for his touch.
It’s not fucking fair.
Then when he presses the briefest of kisses against my throat, I automatically arch my back and neck, giving him more access. He makes a low sound in his throat—approval? Desire?—and then I feel the sting of his fangs penetrating my skin.
A quick feeling of suction follows. I clench my thighs together as my core tightens in anticipation.
Then it’s over just as fast as it started. Xander steps back, his dark eyes blazing.
“That’s it?” I ask.
“That’s it.”
“Usually Will, like…licks and kisses after. He said it helps the wounds heal.”
“Healing is a courtesy,” he says, “or sometimes a necessity if we must hide the evidence of the bite. Tonight, healing would defeat the purpose. We want you marked when we go inside.”
Of course. I keep forgetting that Xander has an ulterior motive here. I keep forgetting that Xander has an ulterior motive for every single thing he does.
Maybe that’s not fair. But that’s what I’ve seen so far.
Xander’s eyes are on my face. I feel like he’s looking into my head, like he can see too much. The man’s seen me naked, I’ve come on his dick, and yet right now, I feel more bare and vulnerable than ever.
“Let’s go inside,” he says softly, and takes my hand.
I allow him to lead me to the door, which opens as we approach. A dead-eyed woman stands next to it, her face devoid of expression. I start to ask if she’s okay, but Xander squeezes my hand in warning, so I clamp my mouth shut.
“Only speak when someone speaks to you,” Xander says, leaning close to my ear. “You are our pet tonight, someone who feeds us.”
Pets don’t feed their owners. I’m more like…livestock. But I keep that thought to myself.
Sensing my irritation, Xander adds, “Vampires will only respect you as our property. Don’t fuck it up, mouse.”
“I won’t,” I promise. “I’ll be the best freaking pet you ever saw.”
He chuckles, and I look around at the entrance hall we’ve just walked into.
There are so many people. After days in the library, I’m feeling claustrophobic with the press of bodies.
“Where’s Gaius Black?” I ask. “And how can I tell who is a vampire and who is human?”
“Most vampires will show their fangs tonight,” he says. “If you watch for fangs, you’ll start to notice other tells.”
I frown as I look around. Two people stand very close together as they talk, and I notice longer, sharper canines on each when they open their mouths.
Usually when I’m home with Will, and sometimes Xander, their fangs would only lower when they were aroused or hungry.
I wonder if showing them casually is some strange vampire flex.
Everyone is dressed very nicely. Skin tones vary from dark to pale. Nobody sparkles with diamond skin, which is unfortunate because that would make vampires very easy to distinguish from humans.
But as I study the finely-dressed people in beautiful gowns, or wearing suits or other nice clothes, I begin to see a theme among those who I find with fangs versus those who don’t have them.
What sets the vampires apart is more than the fangs. It’s charisma. A sense of danger or forbidden pleasure, perhaps. All the people with fangs here have that quality—Will and Xander, too, although I never would’ve realized it was a vampiric trait.
Vampires don’t seem to understand personal space or boundaries, either. They get close when they talk to each other and the few other people around the room who I think must be human.
I feel like an asshole, stereotyping an entire…race? Species?…like this. But somehow, when I see a person with their mouth closed, I can now guess whether or not they’re a vampire, and by the time they open their mouth again, I am usually correct in my guess.
Xander’s hand is warm on my elbow as he steers me through the crowded hall.
He greets several people, never introducing me even though their curious gazes linger on me.
Several of the vampires outright stare at the bite mark on my neck.
It takes all of my self-control to keep from covering it with my hand.
“This is a sweet little one you’ve brought, Alexander,” a woman says in a sultry tone as we walk past.
“She is indeed,” Xander says.
She looks between us. “You have not bound her as your amant. Does that mean you’ve brought her to share?”
Grinning, Xander leans toward her and says, “I’ll find you later, Sienna. You bring your snack, I’ll bring mine.”
He’s lying. He has to be lying. Because he wouldn’t do that, would he? I know he doesn’t want me around, but that…that’s a step too far. Will would never allow it. Where is Will, anyway?
Sienna’s laughter sounds like tinkling wind chimes behind us as Xander drags me forward.
“Shh,” Xander says, tugging me closer to his side. “Don’t make a fuss. You’re going to hear and see things that you won’t like. Please remain calm, and quiet.”
“But—”
“Vampire politics, mouse,” he says as we enter a small ballroom.
If I thought the entry hall was crowded, this is even worse.
The lighting is dim, the room illuminated solely by a glittering chandelier that looks to be draped in real candles.
The ballroom isn’t set up for dancing. It isn’t set up for a banquet, either.
Strangely, it’s filled with couches and loveseats, plush chairs.
“Where did all of these people come from?” I whisper to Xander. “If they’re vampires, and they’re in your territory—”
“Gaius invited them,” Xander says. “No one will question it, even though this is technically Will’s and my city.”
The balls on this Gaius dude. Wow. He must be very strong in order to carry all that audacity around with him. I ask, “Where is he—have you seen him? And where’s Will?”
Xander turns us so that I’m facing the side of the room. “Gaius is there, in the gray suit. Green shirt.”
I carefully examine the man Xander pointed out. His mouth is hidden behind a thick brown beard, and his eyes are cold. Even as he’s speaking to the blond man next to him, he looks around the room as if sizing up competition or finding someone else who will better help him achieve his aims.
“Do we need to go talk to him?” I ask. I hate that I don’t know the rules here.
At home in Altera, I could attend any function, and the etiquette and formalities were practically blended into my blood.
But here, I don’t know who I am or exactly what my standing is.
Even if I completely understood the spoken and unspoken rules of the hierarchy and where everyone lands on it, I wouldn’t know how to interact with the different levels.
“Eventually,” Xander says. “First, we will mingle.”
Mingling. I can do that. Except I’m not supposed to speak unless someone speaks to me. So I’m here to, what, look pretty?
I guess so, based on how Xander parades me through the room. I keep my eyes out for Will, but I don’t see him. Every time Gaius Black comes into my line of sight, I quickly look away. Maybe it’ll be enough that Xander brought me here, and I won’t actually need to meet him.
But while Xander exchanges pleasantries with a silver-haired vampire who looks at me like he wishes I was his next meal, a rich, deep voice calls, “Alexander,” from across the room.
It’s Gaius Black. He gestures Xander toward him.
Next to me, Xander stiffens. Perhaps not enough that Gaius would notice. But I feel it.
After an apologetic look to the silver-haired vampire, Xander loops his arm with mine and places his hand over my hand, keeping me in place.
My heart feels like a lead ball in my chest as Xander walks us toward Gaius with a faint, secretive smile on his face.
That smile is a show, a performance, just like everything else in this room.
A couple of large men move to the side of a large couch as we walk past.
And there he is. Will. He’d been hidden behind the men he was talking to. Now, no one stands between us.
He’s several feet away, but I can see him clearly.
His smile and posture are easy, carefree.
But those beautiful blue eyes are full of fury.