Waltzing around the room, she looked at the little knickknacks: tiny wooden sculptures and a large mirror. There was a bookcase, and she went over to see if there was something else to read. Her fingers glided over the spines of the old books and stopped on one that felt different.
It was hard, not made of cloth or leather, and when she went to pull it, there was a click. The bookcase swung forward, revealing a hidden room.
Inside was a desk with a lantern, some paper, ink, and a pen. But it was the stained-glass cabinet on the left side of the room that caught her attention.
She went over to open it and noticed a lock.
She tugged on the metal latch and went back to her stuff. Usually, she kept pins in her hair or in her leathers, but she had just bathed. She took out the little lockpicking key she used to open simple locks and brought it into the room.
She heard someone shouting and stopped.
She had no idea when Lucius would return and didn’twant to be caught snooping. She quickly shuffled over to the window and peeked outside. It was just two people arguing.
Once she was satisfied that Lucius was nowhere in sight, she returned to the secret room.
She knelt on the ground and grabbed the lock with her hand. A memory of her first time picking her parents’ trunk flickered in her thoughts.
She had been so proud when she broke the lock.
It was the only thing they had locked in their entire house. She had found nothing but a fancy gown and a very expensive-looking dagger. Her parents were furious with her snooping, but the exhilaration of breaking into something—and how easily she could do it—made her want to do it again.
Tavia took the lock pick and carefully twisted it into the lock.
The lock popped and fell into her hands. She placed it on the floor and stood up.
What could he possibly have in this room? And why was it locked?
She went to the desk and turned the lever, lighting the lamp, for a better view. The light highlighted thebeautiful panes of glass.
The image was of a forest, almost like Lucius’s home.
She grabbed the handle and opened the case. Inside were crystal containers shaped like perfume bottles on shelves of various sizes—small and big. They were all red, and it wasn’t until she read the labels that she realized what she was looking at.
“Blonde, human, virgin.”
The next one: “Fae priestess, age 300.”
Her hand began shaking as she read each label. There were some exotic animals, creatures that were more magical than mundane, and one fire hawk.
It was blood.
Her hands trembled, and she stepped back just as the door to the apartment opened.
“I’ve brought you more chocolate,” Lucius called out.
Tavia was frozen, staring at the rows and rows of blood.
How did he get this? And why was he keeping it? She knew he was a vampyre and that they drank blood, but this . . . this was—
“Tavia.”
He was in the bedroom now, and there was no escaping that she had found his dark secret.
He stepped closer, and she gripped the lock in her hand, ready to use it as a weapon.
She was a fool to partner with this monster.
“Oh,” he said. “Well, I’m not surprised that you found my stash.”
