“I cannot say.” Lysander’s gaze swings about the room. Servants enter, carrying trays of hors d’oeuvres and wine. “But what I do know is that they didn’t look very pleased to be here.”
“Do you think Henri is trying to impress them too?”
“Most likely,” he says.
“So do we have a plan for tonight at all?” I ask him.
“Seeing as I am still without a sword, I don’t have much.”
I peer down at his hip, only to find it bare.
That isn’t promising.
Keagan enters again, but with Haven at his side. All the breath expels from my lungs at the sight of her. As radiant as ever, she’s draped in a gown of ivory silk and pearls. Her lips are painted a rose color, and her cheeks are dusted with powder.
I watch Keagan lead her to Henri, her blue eyes staying on me the entire time.
Locking an arm around her waist, Henri kisses the top of her head, and instantly, fury whips through me like atornado. Just seeing his hands on her has me wanting to cross the room and punch him square in the jaw. My hands clench into fists.
“Remain calm,” Lysander warns me in a hard whisper. “Your anger can ruin her chances.”
As Henri introduces her to the others lords, Keagan comes over to us. His presence only annoys me further, but I force myself to settle down, knowing fully well Lysander is right.
“Let’s go, Frenchman,” he growls, and points his sword at Lysander’s neck. He leads him across the room, leaving me to stand alone at the bottom of the staircase.
Haven
Every minute that ticks by feels like years. My cheeks hurt from the fake smile across my lips that I wear as Henri pulls me around the room by our linked arms. He presented me to the three very intimidating, very bored looking vampires, their names all unimportant to me, and I realized fairly quickly that there is no Malcolm among them. Not yet, anyway.
This may be a good thing for us. If the one named Malcolm could jeopardize our chances of escaping, we should make sure we’re out of Greystone before he arrives.
I want to tell Avrum this, but there’s no way I can get near him with Henri holding so tightly to me and insisting on parading me around like I’m a living, breathing trophy of his. Every once in a while, when I canglance over to the staircase, I spot him watching me carefully. And watching Henri, too, to make sure nothing goes awry.
I’m still unsure how we’re going to escape here alive, especially with not just one powerful lord vampire, but four, and one more on his way. I wish we had more of a plan than to meet after midnight, while the party is in full swing, and using that distraction to make a run for it. I’m not sure how far we’ll be able to get before it’s noticed we’re missing.
“Gentlemen, you see Haven here is my newest project,” Henri says as he runs his white gloved hand along my arm that links us. “She used to live in the poorest part of the city. Sickening, really. But I felt like a rare and delicate flower such as she deserved much better than what she had been given.” That same hand travels across my shoulder, and a finger traces the line of my jaw before lifting my chin. “I took her in as my own and gave her everything she could ever want.”
The urge to snap my teeth at that finger is overwhelming, so I set my jaw instead.
The shorter man in long black robes mutters something in Spanish, which receives a disapproving look from the lord with reddish hair and strange colored eyes. Instead of chastising the other, the red-haired man says, “You have become a saint, Henri.”
Henri waves that idea away, but a grin escapes. “It’s a small good deed. Besides, I think she has given me a great deal in return.”
I jerk my arm, unable to stand his touch on me any longer. To my surprise, he lets me go.
“Still, sometimes she can be extremely ungrateful.” He throws his head back and laughs so loudly, it soars above the swell of the music. The others join in.
As a servant approaches Henri with a tray of glasses and a wine bottle in a bucket of ice, I shrink away from the group. I can’t take any more of their judgmental eyes or the laughter at my expense. As I backpedal away, I watch Henri take the bottle and pop the cork with little effort. He doesn’t turn as he pours glasses for himself and the three men, still chuckling.
My chest clenches as I casually stride across the dance floor, my eyes locked with Avrum’s. I want to run to him, but it’ll be too conspicuous.
“How are you?” he asks, when I finally reach him.
“He speaks about me as if I am a work of charity,” I grunt and glance over my shoulder. The vampires are too wrapped up in their jokes and merriment to notice I’m gone. Or care. “To them, I’m helpless creature that he saved from a fated death.”
Avrum shakes his head.
“I don’t know about you, but I am ready to leave. No, Ineedto leave. Lysander—” When I glance around Avrum, I notice the blond vampire leaning against one of the frosted windows, guarded closely by Keagan. That’s not good.
