“I’m impressed, Winifred Preston. When Alaric’s mother told me about this little party, I thought it would be a disaster. After all, the Duke of Dourdom hates dancing, loathes fancy dress, and is morally opposed to fun. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a slow-motion trainwreck, especially when it involves certain members of certain royal courts. But with you at the helm, Allie has a chance to pullthis off.”
Allie?
Allie?
“I’m just the organiser. Alaric’s the one who’s done all the work.”
“Is that what he’s told you? Interesting.” Gideon rubs his chin. “Did he tell you that I’m his party planner?”
“No.”
I can’t even imagine Alaric hiring a party planner. I assumed that his mother was taking care of the details. Or Reginald. Or that Alaric planned to bar the castle gates and throw boiling pitch on anyone who tried to get in.
“You’re looking at the genius tasked with transforming this dusty room into a ball no one will forget. And now that I’ve seen the space we have to work with, I’m even more convinced this will be the event of the year.” Gideon tilts his head to the side, regarding me with those fierce blue eyes. “You should be my date for the ball. We’d turn heads.”
The butterflies in my stomach do a little cha-cha-cha. “Are you asking me?”
“I don’t need to.” He steps closer, his finger trailing a chilly line along my arm. “Surely you can feel the passion between us? This sexual fission just begging to be unleashed?—”
“Gideon.”
I whirl around, jerking my arm away from Gideon. Alaric looms in the doorway, glittering beads stuck to the wool of his tailored jacket, his face a storm cloud.
Gideon either doesn’t notice or isn’t afraid of Alaric’s moods. He sweeps his arm across his body and bows deeply. “Allie, looking dapper as always. I was just chatting to your organiser about the ball?—”
“Winnie doesn’t want to go to the ball with you,” Alaric growls.
“Winnie is standingright here.” I plant my hands on my hips. “Thank you for the invite, Gideon,” I say sweetly. “But I won’t be attending the ball. I’m not really the ball-going type, and I’ll be back in London by then, anyway.”
“Such a pity,” Gideon sighs dramatically. He moves behind me, and before I can step away, he leans in close, his breath dancing over my earlobe. “You would have made a fine date. Don’t you think, Allie?”
“Getout,” Alaric snaps.
“I can’t leave yet.” Gideon grins as he moves to the loom. He’s enjoying himself far too much. “I’m moving a loom. Winnie, darling, would you bend over here for me and undo that nut?”
Alaric looks like smoke is about to pour out his ears.
“You know, Winnie.” Gideon starts to unlock the clamps holding the loom together. “Some years ago Allie promised me – upon pain of an excruciating death – that I would never have to move this loom again. And yet, here we are.”
“I couldn’t have foreseen my mother throwing this infernal ball,” Alaric mutters. His eyes never leave me as he crosses the room to help Gideon with the pins.
“Having become intimately acquainted with your mother during the party planning process, I rather believe you should have foreseen this— Are you helping me take apart this infernal contraption, or making love to it? You’ll need to give that pin a bit of welly?—”
Reginald slips into the room and joins me as we stand in the corner and watch Alaric and Gideon curse each other out as they take apart the loom and march it, piece by impossibly heavy piece, to its new home upstairs. By the time Alaric lifts off the warp beam, his shoulders rippling and his features stoic, with not even a droplet of sweat on his forehead, I’m the one who needs the cold shower.
“I didn’t know Alaric had a friend,” I whisper to Reginald as Alaric and Gideon get into a bickering match over a scuff Alaric claims Gideon made on the marble column.
“I’m not certain Gideon Blake is someone you’d want as a friend,” Reginald replies. “But my lord has his strange ways, Ms Preston. I find it’s best not to question them. That way lies madness.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ALARIC
Dhampir – the abomination born from the coupling of an Upyr man and a human woman. That this is the only procreation that our kin can conceive outside of the Kiss! Corrupted by the unnatural mingling of blood, the Dhampir’s hunger can never be sated. With teeth of iron, they will tear their way through their own mother’s flesh, consuming her from the inside out before unleashing their horrors upon the world. They will kill indiscriminately – not for food, but for joy, and will devour the flesh of their kin. They must be prevented at all costs. Such are the strict laws pertaining to copulation with humans.
—The Crimson Annals: Accounts of the Laws of the Upyr, Akakios the Younger of the Blood Ptolemy
Callista: Since I know you’re not reading the news, I am informing you that the community is in uproar over this husking in our territory. Our kind fear this will expose us, that we will be hunted again. You say that you have Gideon Blake investigating on top of his duties as planner. What good is a property developer? Especially one who brazenlyflouts Court customs. Has he any leads to share? I wish to speak with him when I arrive. Arrange the meeting. And find that killer.
