Chapter 2
Chapter Two
The Searah townhome was everything I imagined when I dreamed of a family home.
It might not have been opulent like the mansion of Lord Azad, but it was lush with history and comforting touches—and most of all love.
Every time I visited, one item or another was pointed out to me as once belonging to a however-many-times-great-grandmère.
I could not imagine such a thing: to be nestled within the womb of a family who truly loved and cared for you.
Lilith proffered a heavy mug, steaming with a rich earthy scent. “Here.”
I tried not to wrinkle my nose at the serangunah, but Jules caught it anyway. The blood-replenishing potion was thick, like drinking chocolate, but bitter with a grit I could barely stand.
“It’s an acquired taste. Give it a few more months.”
There was no use in holding my breath, though I did so anyway as I took a large sip before spluttering. “You’ve said that for the last six months, Jules.”
Before I’d come to Oylen, though I’d worked as a blood giver, I’d never been given such luxuries as serangunah.
Lilith and her mother laughed, alto and soprano mixing in harmony.
Calling Jules by her first name had been a difficult habit to make after her mother had lectured me over proper etiquette.
Solange Searah would have taken Deimos, the god of the moon, by the ear and chided him on his treatment of Amayah, the goddess of night, if she’d had the chance.
Lilith flopped down beside me on the couch, nudging my knee with hers. “So, how was last night?”
I took another large sip from the mug, choking a little. “Fine. Lord Montag generously dropped me at the Souzterain and Noah walked me home.”
The Vyenur in question ambled in from the kitchen, flipping through a book labeled Recipes of the Hearth and shaking his black hair from his face, flashing a portion of the demon sigil etched into his light brown skin. “The male calls himself a gentleman and then doesn’t accompany her home.”
I didn’t agree—the last thing I needed was a client knowing where I lived.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Lilith teased.
Noah gestured to the window while he turned and fell into a worn armchair by the fire. “It’s day.”
As a Vyenur, his job was to hunt the venefica—nighttime demons that plagued Oylen and the outer regions.
Though we’d heard more and more reports of them slipping into other regions, even down into Flourisant.
At two hundred and ninety-eight, he was regarded amongst his people as a youngling, something that rankled each time he successfully defeated a swarm of venefica.
We’d met my first evening in Oylen after Lilith had offered me a tour of the neighborhood.
She and Noah had been acquaintances for a few years and we’d run into him on his way to patrols.
Lilith had only mentioned in passing that I was their newest blood giver and looking for a place to stay before he’d offered up his spare room.
Since then, the three of us had been damn near inseparable.
“Jules, can you make this?” Noah asked, turning the book in her direction. She raised a brow, leaned over to read the page and hummed thoughtfully.
“What do you need with a seven-layer gateau, Noah? You don’t eat food,” I teased before Jules could agree.
He grumbled, shifting his shoulders deeper into the chair and disappearing behind the leather spine. Lilith laughed while Jules leaned over to pat his hand consolingly and turned back to me. “Eamon was very taken with you.”
I froze, the rim of the mug pressing into my lips. Flashes of Lord Azad’s face burst before my eyes and I took another drink of the serangunah.
Jules smoothed the skirts of her black day dress after she crossed one knee over the other. “He asked me to inquire as to whether you’d be willing to come to his house tonight for a private session. I believe he is interested in offering an exclusive contract.”
The serangunah turned to mud and I struggled to swallow the rest of it. I could only imagine for a male like Lord Azad he was unused to hearing the word no. In fact, there were probably dozens of blood givers in Oylen alone clamoring for his attention.
“Doesn’t he usually patronize Cheyenne?” I hedged, setting the mug on the table beside the couch.
Jules pursed her lips. “He does, but he has requested you.”
A hand slid over my arm, squeezing gently. “Eamon is a good male, Adrienne. He will not take liberties.”
I appreciated Lilith’s reassurance, even if it wasn’t what I feared. Jules, however, watched me carefully and there was a bit of Solange in her expression.
“Do I have a choice?”
She blinked, rearing back as if I’d slapped her. “Of course you do, love. And Eamon would be displeased to know you came to him out of a sense of duty rather than desire.”
Desire. The desire she spoke of was one to provide sustenance to a vampire in exchange for payment.
But there was too much peril tangled in that word.
Last night, while Gerald had fed, my mind had wandered to places I could never put name to.
My body had given in to those thoughts and he’d wrongly assumed that something had grown between us, when I had been imagining another male entirely.
A single moment of weakness and now Lord Montag believed I desired him, believed there was some understanding growing between us.
“Please express my gratitude to the lord that he would be so kind as to offer a private session, but I must decline.” My voice slipped into that practiced tone my mother had taught from a young age, using the heightened language of the upper-class immortals of Oylen.
Jules tilted her head to the side, waiting a beat longer than perhaps was necessary.
Her power was strong—in fact, the entire line of Searah witches was one of the strongest left within the city now that magic was slowly dying—but she never shared exactly how it manifested.
Yet magic shimmered in the room, slipping across my skin like warm silk.
“I will send word as soon as the sun sets,” she replied with a nod, and there was no hint of disappointment in her voice.
However, it didn’t stop guilt from twisting my insides.
Risqeu was one of the oldest dens in the city, but after the Covenant had outlawed blood drinking, the Souzterain had been moved and turned into an illegal market.
I knew the Searahs struggled to make ends meet.
Denying a wealthy immortal more patronage was risky for a business that relied on each and every client.
Only last week had a similarly aged den closed down—or been shut down by the Covenant’s disciples. It was difficult to tell these days, especially when the den had “accidentally caught fire” during the day.
“Perhaps…” I started.
But Jules lifted a hand. “It’s fine, Adrienne.
Your comfort is more important to me than Eamon’s coin is.
Besides, he has been a loyal supporter of this family for longer than I’ve been alive, and so generous with us through my mother’s passing.
” Her voice weakened on the last few words, glassy eyes slipping to the altar set beneath the west-facing windows.
A shiny black bowl had been only recently laid out with fresh flowers for Solange.
Lilith’s hand on my arm tightened before it slipped away. “Maman…”
Jules sniffed heartily and rose to her feet, brushing off her dress. “I need to gather herbs from the rooftop for lunch.”
“I’ll set the table for four,” Noah called after her, rising from his chair.
Silence fell between us for a beat and I wrapped an arm around Lilith, tucked her into my side and rested my chin on top of her curls. Noah slipped into the space next to her and enfolded us both in his embrace with his long arms.
“Say something,” Lilith murmured, grief choking the words in her throat. “Anything.”
I ran a hand through her hair, exchanging a look with Noah. He propped his head on her shoulder, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Last night I opened the carriage right before Gerald Montag was about to kiss Adrienne.”
She wrenched herself upright with a gasp, almost headbutting Noah in the process. “What? Did you want him to? Would you have let him?”
I groaned, running a hand over my face. “No, of course not, he’s my client.”
Noah ran his tongue across his teeth. “Nice-looking client, even if he is a bit of a prat.”
“Is this why you won’t see Eamon…because Gerald has asked for exclusive feedings?” Lilith asked, brows raised.
“No, and I do not believe Lord Montag has asked for such a thing,” I answered so firmly I knew it sounded anything but casual.
If only it was that simple. I played with the frayed edge of my cuff, noting that the lace had been repaired so much it was now more thread than fabric.
“Then why? Putting aside his wealth, Eamon is still the best male I know—”
“Hey!” Noah protested and Lilith rolled her eyes.
“The best vampire male I know.” She placed her hand over mine. “I think, if you let him, you would grow to like him very much.”
I flipped my palm over to squeeze hers, nodding down at my knees and the serangunah now cooled in the mug. “That is exactly what I am afraid of.”