“Commander?” I have to catch my breath and am relieved when he preens, clearly thinking I’m impressed when in fact I’m terrified. I’m standing before the vampire who would, no doubt, be sent to kill me if Valeska knew who I was. “Have you ever met the queen?”
“Many times.” He reaches for one of the curls resting on my shoulder and rubs it between his fingers. “Red. We don’t see it often in our kind. It tends to fade toward brown after we’re turned. Green eyes too. Lovely.”
Marcel is dark-haired and dark-eyed with a silver ridge around his iris. While they cast their own light, they are nothing like Damien’s. I try not to cringe when he bends his head and his lips brush the side of my neck. This is, after all, what he paid for.
I swallow hard. I’m ready.
He strikes, and for a moment I’m confused. There’s no pain. Complete euphoria bubbles through my body. It’s both similar to feeding Damien and completely different, like the difference between lust and love. With Damien, I’ve always felt both. This feels shallow, uncomfortable. My pulse pounds and my cheeks flush. If I’m honest, a dull but persistent throb begins between my legs. Biological responses to the venom in his bite, I recognize. My conscious mind wrestles against the feelings, rejects them, holds them at a distance.
Vampires are death. They hold death’s seductive draw.
His swallowing becomes rhythmic, peppered by his moans of pleasure. I sag in his arms, weakening from loss of blood. “You’ve taken enough.” My eyes flick to the red cord, so far out of my reach. “Stop. It’s too much.”
“Mmmm,” he groans, drawing back slightly, then seeming to change his mind and sinking back into my throat. Fuck. Behind him, Phantom forms, teeth bared. But my training with Cassius kicks in before any magical remedy is required. I reach down to the split of the silky robe below my waist and palm the dagger holstered on my upper thigh. Just as Cassius taught me, I arc the blade between our bodies and press the edge into his throat, hard. The blade sizzles against his skin. That’s a surprise. The blades must contain silver, like Marabella’s.
“Stop. Now!” I command.
He releases me with a final flick of his tongue to close the wound. I half expect him to thrust the blade away. He’s bigger and stronger. He could try to overpower me. But he looks at me with reverence as his long, tapered fingers rise to touch his lips. When I see he has himself under control, I lower the blade but keep it in my hand.
He clears his throat. “I’m usually known for my restraint.” His bushy brown eyebrows bunch together over his hooked nose. “Your blood is… indescribable.” He swallows again and again. “It’s perfect. It’s…”
I don’t have to be a mind reader to know what my blood is doing to him. Beneath his pants, his hard length nudges my hip through my robe, and although he’s just fed, his expression holds a different sort of hunger.
My stomach turns queasy at the thought. I slip the blade back into its holster and force myself to sound sweet as I say, “I hope you’ll come see me again. I can donate every three days, although…” I look down at my coupled fingers, trying my best to look forlorn. “Marabella tells me my schedule is filling up fast. Maybe I could move things around to make room for you if you’d help relieve some of my debt.”
I’ve never been much of an actress. When it comes to the arts, my talents lay with painting rather than drama, but with my blood running through his veins, I can see he’s impressionable, and I plan to make the most of it. I remember then, remember the fear in Damien’s eyes when he found out I had magic in my blood. Fear of being blood bound. By feeding Marcel my blood, might I move his heart by magic instead of emotion?
Commander Marcel reaches into his pocket, pulls out his wallet, and hands me every dollar in it. His lids flutter as if he’s confused by his own actions.
I fold the bills without counting them and slip them into the silky pocket of my robe. “Thank you.”
He moves like he might leave but then turns back to me, moving so fast I have no time to protest. His lips slam down on mine with a passionate, although completely one-sided, kiss. I hold very still, teeth clenched, until he finishes. His eyes are sparkling when he pulls away.
“See you in three days.” He winks, then unlocks the door and slips out.
Feeling woozy, I sink onto the edge of the bed. Only then do I reach into my pocket and count the money. Over six hundred dollars.
Phantom forms from the void again, eyeing the wad of dough. “I don’t like to see them touch you,” the fox says in my Grams’s voice. “He came far too close to draining you dry.”
Strangely elated, I hold up the wad of cash. “I don’t like it either, but tips like this are going to get us out of here.”
26
Marabella’s Secret
ELOISE
Marabella’s secret, I learn, is a shake that all the donors are given to drink with lunch. The girl who delivers it tells me it’s charmed to help replenish my blood supply. The drink tastes like berries but revives me better than any espresso.
“Marabella is incredibly pleased,” the girl says through a smile. “Apparently Commander Marcel was particularly taken with you—even offered to buy you. She refused, of course. She’s anxious to introduce you to other clients and wants to keep you strong.”
“Introduce me?” I scoff. “Is that what she calls giving my room key to anyone willing to pay?”
The girl offers a conciliatory smile. “We all knew what we were in for when we signed up for this.”
I school my features. This unassuming young woman in a kimono is currently my only access to another human being and the outside world. I need a friend right now, and complaining isn’t going to earn me one. “You’re right. Sorry for the negativity. I’m Eloise. I should have introduced myself this morning, but I was too…”
“Nervous?” she asks. “We all are at the start.”
