Lucy
I feellike I can breathe again. In fact, I feel like I could take on the entire gallery filled with vampires and win. Providing I have the ankh now tucked into the waistband of my knickers.
I don’t quite know what it was which drew me to the case and to the trinket in the first place, but the moment I set eyes on it, I had to have it.
I guess having a vampire mafia boss as a mate means Dominik hardly even blinked at my criminal efforts. Most probably small fry to him, whatever he says about notstealinganything.
He’s well known as the biggest arms dealer in Europe, along with many other businesses, most of which are, surprisingly, legitimate. But then how else would he explain his vast wealth, other than by far more criminal enterprises?
And the shiver of excitement I felt for liberating the jeweled ankh, as well as being by his side? It’s the most alive I’ve felt in years.
It would appear, dealing death, being close to death whilst also sustaining a life inside me, is a turn on I wasn’t expecting.
Maybe my failure to be as good a vampire hunter as my uncle wanted wasn’t because I lacked ability but because I had empathy.
What should a vampire be? Shunned, vilified, terrorized. Why not use your lot in the afterlife to become insanely rich and powerful? Humans created what vampires are. We can hardly complain about their modus operandi after the event.
“Madame?” One of the security guards stops me as I exit the gallery, his hand grasping at my arm like a claw.
“Yes?” I stare at him cooly. “Can I help you?”
He’s about to open his mouth again when his eyes flick over my shoulder.
“Are you touchingmy consort?” Dominik growls from behind me.
“Király úr, sajnálom, hogy nem láttam önöket ott,” the guard says in rapid Hungarian.
“Vedd le róla a kezed, vagy elveszíted,” Dominik growls, and I’m instantly released.
“Nagyon sajnálom.” The guard backs away.
It seems to me like Dominik has grown a foot in height and width with this encounter. He puts his arm around my waist and moves me into the crowd.
“We cannot trust anyone,” he murmurs in my ear as someone taps on a microphone making a loud shushing sound.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a compare says in English, having climbed onto a temporary stage erected along one wall of the gallery.
For a moment, he gazes around the room, and there is light laughter from the assembled monsters and vampires.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this wonderful gala evening, held in honor of the reopening of theSzalsarwing, recently refurbished to showcase some of the finest work the gallery holds,” he says in a heavy Hungarian accent.
Next to me, I feel Dominik flinch as the compare continues. A quick glance, and I am faced with the most enormous stone gargoyle who is leaning forward, murmuring in Dominik’s ear.
The vampire bares his fangs as he listens, but I’m unable to catch a word, even if it was in English, which I doubt.
The sooner I get better at Hungarian, the sooner this won’t be a problem.
Dominik grabs my hand. “We have to go, Lucy,” he says.
There’s no urgency in his voice or in his form, but something about the words are something I doubt I’ve ever heard from a vampire, an exhortation to leave.
Like cats, vamps have an innate entitlement to be anywhere and everywhere they like. And they never do anything when asked.
This reception is for him; he isn’t going to leave willingly. I feel a chill which is only tempered by the ankh pressing into my thigh.
We make our way through the crowd, now concentrated on the stage, and out into the entrance hallway where the huge gargoyle is standing like the statue he is.
“Viktor?” Dominik says through gritted teeth.
