Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
We took a plane across the ocean and then a train through the countryside in the heart of the old country.
There were more and more vampires with every stop.
Traveling with Gavriel was interesting. People automatically trusted him, handing him their children, instead of huddling away like they did around me.
No one seemed to notice I was a vampire when I was next to him.
Except the vampires. They noticed. I wasn’t ancient, but I’d been very active while I was under Tralcon’s domination.
I knew very few by name, but I’d never socialized with any of them, particularly the ones who pretended to be friendly.
Like Lady Anastasia, the vampire who had been staring at me for the past ten minutes.
Finally, she got up and walked over on the rocking train until she came to a stop at my row.
Gavriel was on the aisle, giving me the window.
He thought he was being protective, but I was by the window so I could kick it out and drag him away with me if things got sticky.
“I’d like a word,” she said to me, ignoring Gavriel completely. That was interesting. He was a very pretty angel, and if I remembered correctly, she liked to collect and break pretty things.
“Then you should speak with a vampire who likes talking,” I said flatly.
She flashed me a fanged smile before turning it on Gavriel. “Would you mind if I borrowed your companion? I don’t suppose you know her name, do you? She was always just ‘The Blood.’”
He looked at her, then faced front, a bored look on his face. He was ignoring her. Of course he was. He could smell corruption, and she was pungent with it.
Her claws came out, and she slashed at him, a direct hit that would have gone into the side of his neck and come out the back, snapping his spine if I hadn’t interrupted her trajectory, my claws through the bones of her wrist, twisting and spreading my fingers just so, snapping the bones, then catching her other hand with my other claws, before I came around, finishing the sweep with her neck, so her head went one way, the body went another, and her blood stayed mostly inside the body so cleanup would be minimal.
Four other vampires stood to stare at me, at the body, at the lack of blood.
I hadn’t even stood up. Gavriel was ominously still, but when I leaned over and inhaled, he didn’t smell like pain, just anger.
Of course he was angry. Some random vampire almost killed him just because he wouldn’t humor her.
Two vampires came and carried Lady Anastasia away seconds after she’d fallen while I settled back into my seat and stared out the window, watching the scenery.
Gavriel’s anger grew with every mile instead of decreasing until I half expected steam to come out of his ears.
We got to the small town on the outskirts of the Vampire King’s estate and the small hotel with plush blue carpet.
I remembered that carpet. I’d had bare feet the last time I’d been here, because I never wore shoes until Mr. Good announced that it was part of my uniform.
The walk from the train station to the tall hotel was quiet and peaceful other than the angry angel at my left. Once we’d gotten to the hotel, I started towards the cream desk, Gavriel a seething shadow at my shoulder.
“Hi. Do you have a reservation?” the man in a blue suit that matched the rug asked in perfect English, almost like he knew where we’d come from and was expecting us.
“Yes,” Gavriel said, moving so that his body was between myself and the other vampire. “Gavriel Hartshorn.”
“Of course it is. Pardon me for not knowing,” the vampire clerk said, smiling at Gavriel like he was edible. He was, but it wasn’t common knowledge, and it was certainly going to stay that way.
I grabbed the vampire clerk’s tie, yanking him against the edge of the counter. “Don’t look at my angel, or it’s the last thing you’ll do,” I hissed, using the full breadth of my aura of evil on him.
He swallowed and stared at me, his eyes widening as he finally recognized me as the person I’d been the last time I was there.
His veins bulged, and he swallowed hard as he choked without needing to breathe.
“Oh. You’re Tralcon’s Lady Blood. I remember now.
I won’t look at the angel. If he’s yours, no one else will touch him. ”
I released him and glanced at Gavriel, who was more angry than ever, in spite of how impassive his face was. “I know. At least not more than once. Send hot chocolate up to the room. And dinner. Angels get hungry.”
“Yes. I remember. Lady Death likes hot chocolate, no milk, no sugar, just chocolate in boiling water. And Lord Gavriel will have the full menu.” He handed over the key with shaky fingers, making me feel self-conscious.
Had I overreacted? Possibly, but we were in vampire territory. Violence was persuasion.
I turned and faced the large trunk that contained all of my ball gowns. They’d just been delivered. Would I make it through one ball without losing control? Probably not.
Gavriel walked over and hefted the trunk like it was nothing, like he had vampire strength. He stood there, waiting for me to lead the way, like he was my pet or something. I didn’t like that.
I tugged on the trunk. He quirked a brow but didn’t let go of it.
“I’ll carry it,” I said.
He shifted the trunk so that it was balanced on one shoulder with one arm and then picked me up with the other, carrying me and the trunk towards the stairs.
I was so shocked that I didn’t move, just stayed tucked close to his heart.
I could hear it beating, could smell his shampoo, his soap, his lotion, and the sweet scent of him beneath it all.
Angelic. Heavenly. So terribly irresistible.
I breathed him in, letting him carry me along with my trunk until we got to the hall upstairs outside our room.
He dropped the trunk with a thud and then took my shoulders in his large hands, pressing me firmly against the wall while he loomed over me.
He was very tall, and his wings came out which were so impressively deadly.
He was utterly dangerous, all sharp edges and stern wrath. Completely irresistible.
“Lady Blood, I am not impressed with your reckless behavior.”
I stared at him, confused, and not just because my head was full of him. “You should have seen me the last time I was here. I had no shoes, and there was so much broken glass. From the chandeliers, or broken mirrors? It’s a bit fuzzy, but there was definitely glass strewn all over.”
He leaned into me, impressing me with his warmth, strength, and complete lack of personal space.
I relaxed against the wall, letting him oppress me, helpless in the face of his goodness.
I never submitted, even when I was enslaved, but here I was, going limp and breathing him in like he was my personal heaven.
“I was sitting on the aisle so that no harm would come to you, but you interfered needlessly, killing when you never kill unless ordered. My life was not at risk, but you killed anyway.”
I blinked up at him. Why did his weight feel so good against me? Like a heavy blanket on a cold night. “She was going to snap your spine.”
“She was going to run into my protection wards and get burned. Instead, she’s dead. One more death to add to the list you keep in your head.”
I blinked at him. “You have protection wards?”
“Of course.”
I smiled up at him and slid my hands over his shoulders and behind his neck. “I like that.”
His eyes narrowed. “I see. At some point you’ve started thinking that it’s your job to protect me. The poor, helpless baby angel is going to get killed if you don’t watch him very closely. That is going to get you killed.”
I hesitated, then shrugged. “I'm already dead."
"No, you’re undead. You have to protect yourself and your soul, or I can't trust you."
I relaxed more fully, letting him hold my weight entirely. “You can't trust me. I'm a killer. You seem incapable of understanding that."
He grabbed the back of my neck and lowered his head until his forehead was brushing mine, glorious eyes burning into me.
His low voice was a dangerous caress. "I've killed more.
And I will keep killing, because it's a necessary part of life to destroy those who deal death and misery.
I've read your file. I've memorized your file. I know every carefully catalogued death, and you, Miss Ruby Blood, are not a killer. You are an executioner, not a soul who relishes the kill. I need to kill, but you don't even take live blood. You dealt an unnecessary death, imperiling your immortal soul and putting our mission at risk, and for what? If you don’t want me telling any vampires that I’m edible, then you guard yourself and your soul. "
Oh. This is what I’d done to him in Song, pinning him down so I could lecture him about safety.
He wasn’t going to kiss me, however much it felt like it.
Good. I hadn’t kissed anyone since I became a vampire.
I wasn’t about to start now. That would be ridiculous.
Then again, my entire existence was based on idiocy, so what was one more?
I could kiss him so easily, just lean in, brush my lips against his and taste his skin, his breath, his goodness.
“I hate to interrupt…” drawled an elegant voice that cut through the madness enough for me to pull back before I kissed the angel, thumping my head against the wall.
I struggled to escape Gavriel’s grasp, but as I tried to escape, his strength matched mine.
I stared at him while this weird satisfaction rose up inside of me.
He was as strong as I was. He released me as I relaxed back into his grasp.
I had no will to fight against him. He stood away, arms crossed while he glared at the newcomer.
“Herald,” I said, because that was either his title or his name. He was old enough for it to have been either.