Page 86 of Rafe

“I stole her lover.” Ilsbeth pursed her lips and glanced at Greyson.

The ancient vampire raised his eyebrows and averted his gaze to the carpet.

“I fucking knew it.” Rafe glared at the vampire.

“You dated Ilsbeth?” Skylar asked Greyson.

“Hmm…yes and no. It was a different time. I wasn’t so attached. I was a new vampire. I didn’t realize Ilsbeth was her sister, to be fair. Temptation is a persuasive mistress. Speaking of which. You’re looking good tonight, witch.”

“As if I’d let you touch me with a ten-foot pole.” Ilsbeth prickled, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Someone doth protest too much,” he countered.

“Enough. Enough.” Rafe took a deep breath, his beast wild with anger. How could they have both lied? Never trust Ilsbeth. Rafe’s mind raged with anger. “This isn’t a fucking joke, Grey. I’ve been flying blind. The first time you heard Skylar say her name you should have said something. And still you let us walk into that blood club.”

Greyson’s eyes narrowed. “I’m aware this is a serious situation. But to be fair, I want to remind you that you are my brother’s responsibility, not mine. He’s the one who turned you. He’s your maker. I chose to be here because you’re my friend. I regret keeping information from you, but I had to be certain of her existence before I raised unnecessary concerns. And for the record, I can confirm that Kade wasn’t aware.”

“We cannot change what has happened. Yes, Ilsbeth and I stole a few moments of indiscretions. Her sister and I were not bonded. She chose a path of dark magick. Demons. She’s tortured both supernaturals and humans alike. She was dangerous. She made the choice to go against Ilsbeth. She didn’t get to be the High Priestess without merit. So she was shunned, banished to a life away from others where she couldn’t do any more harm. I don’t know how she got out.”

“Are you sure she was in Las Vegas?” Rafe asked.

“Oh she was there,” Greyson said.

“When you turned vampire, I suppose it wasn’t entirely unexpected,… yet I’d hoped it wouldn’t happen,” Ilsbeth told him. “If we don’t work quickly, she will spread disease. Both humans and supernaturals will perish. I’m certain of it. She must be destroyed. By an Alpha. By you, Rafe.”

Ilsbeth went silent as Henri entered the parlor.

“Sorry to interrupt. Dinner is ready, High Priestess. We shall adjourn?”

“Indeed.” Ilsbeth set down her drink and approached the great wall of paintings.

Rafe welcomed a break from the argument. He watched with disbelief as the wall wavered before their eyes. Like a shimmering sheet of silver, its face vibrated, revealing another room.

Staff dressed in white uniforms attended to setting silver domed dishes onto an enormous white marble table. Its legs had been intricately carved into warrior cherubs, brandishing harps and arrows.

Rafe noted the table settings for six, aware there were only four people. Ilsbeth stood at the front of the table, her chair already withdrawn from underneath it.

“Sit here.” Ilsbeth pointed to the seat to the right of her. “Skylar next to Rafe. Greyson. Here.”

“I knew you still wanted me.” Greyson smiled at her.

“In your dreams, vampire.”

Rafe reached for Skylar’s chair and pulled it out from the table.

“Thank you,” she said without looking at him.

Ilsbeth clapped her hands once again, the diligent workers lining up on cue. “Henri. Please stay. Gayle. Hazel. You may be excused. Thank you for your lovely service this evening.” She took a deep breath and raised her hands. She snapped her fingers, dimming the room into near darkness. With a rush of light, the flames of a myriad of pillar candles danced, illuminating the room in hues of blue and purple.

“Much better. We must calm our souls. My sister is devious and I’m quite sure she’s grown stronger.” Ilsbeth nodded at her butler. “Would you mind informing our guests of tonight’s menu?”

“Of course, High Priestess. We shall be starting with snapper soup followed by crawfish etouffee over grilled catfish. For accoutrements, maque choux, fried okra, green beans and of course, French bread and rice. We shall begin with a fine Bordeaux. Liber Pater. For the gentleman, I have a very fine red aperitif for you both. A specialty. Freshly drained from donors.”

Rafe inwardly cringed, aware Skylar once again would be reminded of the bloodthirsty beast inside him. Though she’d been pleasured by him, she’d also seen the dark side, the need to drink blood. A bloodsucking parasite. The self-loathing thoughts ruminated and he forced his mind to control it, reminding himself that within a matter of hours, he’d be free. Once again running as wolf.

The trickle of the wine broke his contemplation, his nose teased by the blood Henri poured into the smaller opaque pewter goblet. Rafe noted the empty place settings towards the end of the table, observing the butler pour two additional glasses. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, his instincts warning him to be cautious of the witch.

“As I’m sure you’re all aware, there are a couple of empty seats at our table. Henri. Please allow our guests to enter.”