“Stop your fidgeting,” he mutters sharply, but then guides my hand to his lips for a kiss. “My dearest Haven, you haven’t touched your dinner.” Letting me go, he reaches for his glass of wine instead and takes a sip.
I force myself to give him an apologetic smile, then wait for him to finish sipping his wine before answering. “I’m sorry, my lord, but I am not very hungry this evening.” I roll the words over again in my head and pray that they don’t sound offensive in some way. I still need to keep his fangs out of my neck before the party, and that means doing whatever I have to do to keep him happy.
Watching me intently, Henri puts down the glass a little too hard, causing a few ruby drops to slide down the side. His face, though, remains cool and unbothered. “This has turned out to be a nice evening, hasn’t it?” he says as his thumb runs up the glass, catching one of the trails before it can reach the cloth underneath. The color stains the tip of his white gloves. The memory of my own bloodon his fingers spring to my mind, and my stomach turns even more.
“Yes…” Acid pushes up my throat, and I swallow roughly. “It has.”
He turns in his seat and touches the side of my face. “You have to be the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.” When his thumb runs along my bottom lip, I can feel the wetness of the wine droplet there, can vaguely taste its bitterness as he traces the outline of my mouth. “And you are entirely mine.”
A loud knocking causes me to jump in my seat, and Henri’s head whips toward the door. Henri nods Lysander’s way, and he opens it, revealing Avrum on the other side.
I freeze. He seems even more handsome now than when I’d seen him last. He has changed out of his white shirt and now wears an emerald-green jacquard vest, an undershirt with a ruffled collar, and black slacks. His hair is brushed and tied neatly back, but his eyes sparkle with our shared secret when he finds me.
“Avrum,” Henri greets, gesturing him to come forward. “What news do you have for me? As you can see, I’m in the middle of dinner.”
He comes to the opposite side of the table, and I look away, afraid that if my gaze lingers too long, I’ll reveal something I shouldn’t. But it’s harder than it should be. From the corner of my eye, I see him bow low.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your meal, my lord,” he says to Henri. “I wanted to tell you of the arrangements I’ve made for the event this Saturday night.”
I glance at Henri, who leans back in his chair anddrums his fingers against the table beside his plate. I try to read him, to see what he can possibly be thinking, but his smoldering coal eyes stay fixed on Avrum, and his thin upper lip twitches in annoyance.
There’s a long pause, and in that stillness, I’m terrified he knows something more than he’s saying and all our chances of escaping will slip away.
Slowly, Henri turns to me. “It seems like I must cut our dinner short,” he says. “If you gain an appetite, I can have food sent to your room for you.”
He doesn’t have to say a thing more. I know that he means for me to leave them alone.
As I stand, Henri snatches me by the elbow and pulls me in close. His lips hover near my ear. “I want you to come to my bed tonight,” he whispers, and my heart drops, knowing exactly what he means by that. “I’ll call for you.”
When he lets me go, my legs tremble and I suddenly feel dizzy. The room spins.
“Miss Haven—” Avurm’s worried voice calls to me, but when Henri’s gaze snaps his way, he says nothing more.
Slowly, I move around the table and to the door, clutching my stomach. I feel so ill, I might vomit. Henri wants me to come to his bed. I won’t be able to escape him this time.
The clicking of my heels cut through the silence of the room. Had Avrum heard what Henri said too? Better yet, what were we going to do about it?
I fight the urge to look back at him. All I can do is pray hope isn’t lost.
Avrum
Ihate to watch her walk away. She looks stunning in her deep-red gown that sweeps the mosaic floor in a long train behind her. But I also didn’t miss the terror in her eyes.
Of course I had heard Henri’s request to her. He’d said it just loud enough to make sure I had.
Bastard.
I grit my teeth, wanting nothing more than to take the glass from his hand, break it against the table, and plunge a piece into his neck. Or better yet, the knife lying innocently across his finished dinner plate, or even the sword at my hip.
How could I have ever looked up to this man, this snake? Now, I long to be the one to kill him.
The moment Lysander closes the door and she’s gone from sight, I’m hyper aware of Henri’s presence again. In between Henri’s two fingers, a glass of wine is perched, and with a simple twist of his wrist, the goblet sways back and forth.
Henri clears his throat, waiting on me to speak. I bow my head again, using the moment to compose myself. Now isn’t the time. We still have two days to get through alive, and only then will it be possible to act on my thoughts.
“So,” Henri begins, his tone full of impatience, “tell me what you need to and leave.”
“I have prepared for as many guests as you entertained last party,” I reply. “About fifty or so.”
