My stomach hardens, heat pooling in my belly as I glare at the two of them.Mother, Morrigan and the vampires are all politely laughing at each other.
Dahlia catches my eye, all while smiling, nodding and laughing at Carmen.My gaze darkens.Dahlia laughs again and then locks eyes with me.Does she think I was checking her out?
I wasn’t.
And even if I did think she was hot, it’s not like I would actually go anywhere near a vampire.The Whisper Club was a onetime mistake.No.I need to stick with the last thousand years of history.Vampires are all parasites.Besides, I’m perfectly happy standing here drinking champagne on my own.
I’m not even lonely.
Though, I will say that night feels like a million years long.
Marcus staggers back inside, having—I assume—dumped Blane outside.
He scans the room searching for me, spots me, and makes his way over.But en route, he stumbles into a chair, followed by shoulder barging some distantly related cousin of mine.
Something is very wrong.
The guard’s skin is glazed, grey and sweaty looking.Maybe Blane put up a fight.I hope Marcus knocked the crap out of him, it’s less than Blane deserves.
Marcus staggers forward, leaning on the nearest table.
Yeah, he really doesn’t look good.I push off the wall and down the rest of my champagne, slinging the empty glass onto a passing server’s tray.
Dahlia glances my way; something in my expression must grab her attention.She jerks off the bar stool, cutting Carmen off mid-sentence and marches towards me as I head for the bodyguard.
“Princess, Penel—” Marcus says, but his words catch in his throat.
“What’s wrong?”My words fall away as his skin turns a dark shade of purple.What in the?—
“Oh, dear,” he says and buckles forward.
There’s a presence at my side.I turn expecting Mother or maybe Morrigan, given she did assist me with Mosel earlier.But they’re still engaged in chatter a table away.To my surprise it’s Dahlia, her expression furrowed as she scans the guard.
“First you insult me, and now you come to my rescue?Real charmer you are…” I say.
Dahlia opens her mouth to respond, but Marcus lurches forward.A groan that sounds like a garbled scream rips from his chest, followed by several splatters of blood.
Blood.There’s a vampire stood next to me.
“Shit.”I glance at Dahlia, edging away from her.Her nose flares.A shimmer of rouge flickers across her expression, and I swear she stops breathing.
“Are you going to—” I ask.
She gives a curt shake of her head.“I’m fed.”
Marcus bellows out a curdled cry silencing the entire bar almost as aggressively as when the vampires walked in.I reach forward to help him up, but Dahlia grabs my hand.
“Don’t,” she says right as Marcus explodes.
When I say he explodes, I mean he literally eviscerates into a million pieces.Blood, organs, bone and tissue spray across the bar splattering over Mother, Morrigan, every lord, lady and royal-adjacent person in here.
There isn’t even a shred of uniform left.
I flinch as I’m showered in his residue.I wipe my mouth, shuddering as it does nothing to remove the blood from my lips.My clothes are drenched in entrails, sinew and bone shards.
There’s a split second of silence that stretches and stretches as collective realisation drifts through the bar.And then it’s carnage.
Screams rip from one side of the bar to the next.Mine included.I lean forward and throw the entire contents of my stomach up, including—sadly—both glasses of champagne.
