My phone rings.
“We’re here,” Jamison informs me. “Yes, all three of us. There’s no way in hell we’re leaving her alone during this asinine match. Where do you want to meet?”
“They’re here,” I murmur to her, then return to the call. “North entrance to the arena. We’ll meet you there in forty-five minutes.”
When we get to our room, there’s a large dress box and a hanging bag on the door. Uneasy, I grab both and haul them inside.
“Who’s that from?” Phaedra asks, peering over my shoulder.
“Frederick,” I reply, handing her the card I discovered in her gift. “Apparently, the opening ceremony requires proper attire. Vampires have standards, you know.” Like most vampires, I love a bit of formality, except when it’s delivered by someone I don’t trust.
She tosses the card down and grabs the dress box. Lifting off the lid, she reaches into the mountain of tissue paper and pulls out a heart-stopping dress. Literally. Blood red, with chiffon ties on the shoulders and a plunging neckline, it’s a dress made to bare her neckline in a color that will drive them wild.
I scowl. Any other time I might enjoy the sight of her in it, but not in an arena full of bloodthirsty vampires. What the hell was he thinking? The others are going to lose their shit, and they’ll be right. This one is on me. I should have gotten her a dress. I’ve been too distracted. Normally I’m ten steps ahead, not behind.
“Am I reading this wrong, or does this dress havesnackwritten all over it?” Her husky voice is teetering on the edge of hysteria. She lays the dress down and digs into the box, pulling out matching shoes and a clutch.
My mind races to think of an option. “Wait here.”
I head to my closet and fling it open. My hand skims the clothes, looking for inspiration. Jackets will swallow her. While I wouldn’t mind covering her up, I don’t want this to look likeshe’s hiding. I stop and pull out a long-sleeved black button-down. This might work.
Heading back to the living room, I hold it up. “Thoughts?”
She fingers the black silk and nods. “I can work with this.” Stretching up, she places a fleeting kiss on my lips, then disappears into the bedroom.
With her gone, it takes me but seconds to send a couple of encrypted texts, then get into the tux Frederick sent. Savile Row, if I’m not mistaken. What game is he playing?
She glides out of the back room fifteen minutes later, the black silk shirt tucked into what is now a blood-red skirt. Her hair is in a chignon, but her neck is covered by the starched collar that she’s pulled up. I eye the deep V of the shirt she’s left open and resign myself to getting pissed off every time someone’s eyes dip down.
Twirling around, she pops a hand on her hip. “What do you think?”
“Perfect,” I tell her, moving closer. I dip my head and get a whiff of her unique scent and something surprising. “Are you wearing my cologne?”
“Couldn’t hurt, right?” she states with a shrug.
“Hmm, I like it.” That’s an understatement. The thought of her smelling like me in a sea of vampires lusting after her…hell yes. Curious, I peer down but luckily can’t see anything. I slide a finger down the center, and she inhales sharply. “Which ones did you choose?”
She arches a brow, but her eyes are twinkling. “That’s my little secret.”
Blue or green, doesn’t matter. My mind will be picturing both for the rest of the night. I chuckle. “Maybe you’ll be willing to trade information later.”
I place my lips by her ear and whisper, “Jamison will let us know when it’s done.”
“Mm, good.” She runs her hands down my lapels. “You should wear a tux more often. It’s sexy.”
Hmm, there’s a bit too much nervousness in those blue eyes. I draw her chin up and capture her lips with mine, plundering and possessing, until she’s breathless and her lips have that thoroughly-been-kissed look. “Now you’re ready.”
At the north entrance to the arena, Frederick and the other contenders are waiting for us. I look around but don’t see Jamison. My phone pings, and I read the text.Damn it.“The area has been cordoned off. Jamison and the others can’t get past the barricade.” The clock begins to chime. “I don’t have time to take you to him, and you can’t go alone. Not here.”
Phaedra lifts her chin. “Then we’re sticking together.” Straightening my bow tie, she leans in. “Maybe we won’t have to search for our enemy after all.” Her eyes dart around the room as if she’s assessing each person.
She’s right. It has to be one of the contenders. Why else would they want us here?
The event organizer signals for the contenders to line up. Almost everyone here has a significant other with them, except for Frederick and a beast of a vampire standing against the wall.
Arranging a bored expression on my face, I study each of the contenders. Tells begin to reveal themselves. Fear. Confidence. A slight limp. Those on the balls of their feet can fight. All of them have multiple weapons, including me. My two short swords are sheathed in my back harness, and of course, my favorite stiletto is tucked into my sleeve.
Besides Frederick and the massive vamp, there’s me, a tall blond woman with extensive muscles and a wicked-looking knife in her belt. Two lean vampires with black hair who look like they belong to the Carvis tribe in Asia. One whose broad smile makes them look like a politician. The last two, a male and female, look to be military.
