An eerie, off-kilter melody floated toward us through the open door, and Sorsha looped her arm through mine before stepping over the threshold.
The coppery tang of blood hit me first, mingling with the scent of sweat and dust and ancient things that had begun to mold.
Half a dozen pale faces whipped in our direction, andinstinct had me reaching between the folds of my skirts for the stakes sheathed at my thighs.
Something told me they could scent my hunter blood and knew I’d staked hundreds of their brethren. Had word of Silas’s demise reached the far edges of the Quarter? Would these vampires find themselves in a vengeful mood now that I no longer had the protection of his hunters?
The air in the foyer was too thick, choked with the stench of blood and mildew and that sickly sweet smell all vampires carried. They were dressed in an odd assortment of clothing, all from different eras. The mix of velvet tailcoats, ruffled linen shirts, silk tuxedos, and formal tunics created a jarring visual effect.
Some of the males wore beards, while others were clean-shaven. But they all shared the same predatory gaze — a hungry, lustful look that made my skin crawl.
Gods, I hated vampires.
My hunter instincts hummed in warning, but I forced myself to keep moving as those blood-red eyes raked over me.
Why had I worn this dress?
The idea that we might blend in with the crowd of mortals was laughable. None of us had the glazed, half-starved look of a vampire’s pet. In that moment, I craved the protection of my leathers and the comforting weight of my weapons.
A sharp, guttural cry drew my attention to the parlor on my right, where men and women in varying states of undress were draped over the antique furniture. Most already bore the telltale marks of vampire bites — bruised puncture wounds that branded their necks, arms, and even, in the case of one woman, the inside of her thigh.
I fought back a shudder. These weren’t the blood tourists who visited the Quarter looking for a thrill. These were the vampires’ human pets, who lived with the clan and gave their blood in exchange for the dizzying high a vamp’s venom could provide.
“Delicious,” came a sultry growl to my left, and I turned in time to see a tall blond vampire running a finger up the back of Sorsha’s arm.
The princess stiffened beside me, and I heard her breath hitch as the vampire’s gaze raked over the exposed swells of her breasts.
My insides clenched as he drew closer, but then a dark shape swirled in my periphery, and the vampire’s back slammed into the wall.
“She’s not for you,” Adriel growled, his eyes flashing dangerously as he placed himself between Sorsha and the vampire.
The male bared his teeth, exposing a pair of gleaming white fangs.
Sensing that our ruse was about to go up in smoke, I dropped my gaze to the floor and said, “We are a gift sent for the mistress of this house.”
My heart was hammering so loudly I was sure it must be stoking the bloodlust swirling in the air. Adriel stood as still as a statue as we waited for my pronouncement to land.
Still glaring at the royal guard, the vampire gave a jerky nod before straightening his dinner jacket and wandering off in search of new prey.
Releasing a shaky exhale, I cast around, wondering where we’d find Mirabella. But then I heard a trill of girlish laughter and looked up to see a pale female with auburn hair standing at the top of the stairs.
A sheer lilac nightdress draped her full figure, pooling on the floor at her feet. Loose waves fell to the small of her back, and the rouge that tinted the apples of her cheeks gave the female a youthful glow that offset the telltale pallor of death.
“A present? Forme?” It was the effervescent voice of a child, and something about it sent a chill down my spine.
Sorsha stood stock-still, and Adriel shifted his body to place himself in front of the princess.
“But who woulddosuch a thing?” she tittered, gliding down the staircase.
Mirabella moved with preternatural grace, the semitransparent fabric of her nightdress billowing around her as she descended.
Sucking in a slow breath, I tried to calm my racing heart as the vampire drew nearer.
“Lovely,” she mused, craning her neck as she reached for Adriel, trailing a finger along his jaw.
My insides felt suddenly brittle, as if they might crack under the tension radiating from the male standing beside me. But Adriel did not react, even as Mirabella’s finger continued down his chest.
“I know you,” she crooned. “You belong to Kaden, the wretch.” She jutted out her bottom lip in a pout. “You must be a present from him. An apology for how he behaved on his last visit.”
