“When you got sent away for being an unregistered courtesan, did you slay every doctor and nurse in that institution so you could free the female inmates?”
“Perhaps.”
I grin. “You aresobeautiful.”
My compliment doesn’t have the usual effect. Her eyelashes flutter shut. She almost looks like she wants to cry. I quickly add a shot of blood to my drink and take a long sip.That’s better.I feel more like myself with blood on my tongue.
“When I was designing Sanctus, I couldn’t stop thinking about La Petite Mort. It was my sanctuary. The happiest nights of my life were spent in that confessional booth, playing backgammon with you and spilling my secrets, or sitting with the artists, mesmerised by Claude’s brush or Victor’s sharp wit oryou. Mostly you. I thought youdied, and I wanted to keep this piece of you alive.”
I bite back a rising panic, a sense that I’m walking along the edge of a bridge and below me are the turgid waters of the Seine. One false step and I could fall, and Arabella would be torn away from me again.
Arabella glares at the empty stage, eyebrow twitching.
“It’s not an exact copy.” I hurry on before I try to take back my words. “But I did hunt down an antiques dealer in Paris who was sellingoff the statues that survived the fire, and I even found one of the old confessional booths. Alaric carved these others for me.”
Arabella frowns at the gleaming marble bar and the giant gilded cage hanging over the dance floor. “I see you’ve modernised.”
“I made some improvements.”
“You’vemodernised.”
“We couldn’t very well have gas lamps and privies. I’d have a vampire revolt on my hands. Usually, this place is pumping, but tonight it’s just ours. Cocktail?” I gesture to the ornate absinthe fountain on the bar behind us. “We’ve painstakingly recreated the bloodsinthe you used to serve, right down to finding the perfect brand of French absinthe.”
Arabella still hasn’t said anything. Reluctantly, I turn away from her to perform the traditionalla loucheritual she loves. I place her bloodsinthe on a tray next to a single shot of blood for me. Arabella takes both glasses. She swallows the shot in one quick motion, and holds the bloodsinthe to her lips and takes a long sip.
I pour myself another blood shot and take a sip as she asks, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
I swallow. “Because I was afraid of hurting you. You didn’t want to remember the past, and here I am with this effigy of it. I didn’t want you to hate me.”
“Nothing’s changed. I still don’t want to live in the past, and I still hate you.”
She says it without venom, and my foolish heart dares to hope.
“Everything’schanged. You need a place to hold the variety show. I know you’re only directing it because Beth and Maisie twisted your arm, but I thought you could have it here.”
Arabella turns away, playing with the sword around her neck. I hear the rush of air as she breathes out, straightening her shoulders, steadying herself. Have I messed up again? I wasn’t even trying to win her over. I just want to help and—
“Let me make sure I understand this,” she says. “You want to invite the village of halfwits, future murder victims, and extras in the next terrible teen vampire novel adaptation into your super secret exclusive vampire club? You want Beth trying to sell everyone her beauty elixirswhile Isis Meriwether traipses all over the estate pretending to tell fortunes and Komal and Augustin Durant finally either eviscerate each other or fuck on the DJ booth? Why?”
“Because it will make you smile.”
“Hmm.” She stands up and whips my drink from my hands. I reach up to grab it back, but she spins away. Her heels clack on the floor as she steps up the narrow staircase onto the stage. “I’ll show you what will make me smile.”
38
Arabella
Alyra:Arabella, I assume you’re out with Gideon, but if you could be a dear and slip away to meet me, I’d appreciate it. I have something important to tell you, and it cannot wait. It is a most distressing and scintillating piece of gossip, and I’m afraid my mind won’t be at ease until you know.
Beth:Celeste is waiting in the getaway car. I’m finishing up with a couple of clients and then I’ll be downstairs with your disguise. Be careful. We don’t know what a vampire like Gideon will do when he finds out you crossed him.
MY HEELS CLACK AGAINST HARDWOODas I step onto the stage. A gleaming stainless steel pole stretches from the floor up into the fly tower and grid, secured at both ends. It calls me like a siren leading sailors to their ruin. I’ve certainly used a pole like this to lead men to ruin.
“What’s this doing here?” I ask, without looking back at Gideon.
“Oh, that old thing,” he says mildly, as if he didn’t order Sinead to have it installed in time for tonight. “It’s just lying around, waiting for a goddess to return.”
“You’d better hold this.” I hand him my drink. As I do, I run the tip of my finger over his lips. They part ever so slightly, and his cool breath touches the pad. I love the way his lips feel, soft and cool. His hand lingers on mine before he raises the glass to his lips and takes a long, luxurious drink, and it takes everything I have to hold his gaze, knowing what I intend to do to him.
