Page 6 of Blood as Sweet as Roses

Paige

I breathe deeply, trying to ground myself. A sip of wine helps a little, although it doesn’t do much to ease the tight, heavy weight of terror in my stomach.

No one else is out here, except a few servers with trays of wine glasses.

“Excuse me,” I ask one of them. “Do you know where Eloise is?”

She frowns. “I think I saw her go down that hallway, toward the kitchen.”

“Thanks,” I respond, hurrying in the direction she indicated.

The hallways are like a maze. Another server comes out of a room, holding a full tray of glasses.

“Is Eloise in there?” I ask him.

“She was in the lounge, the last I saw her,” he replies, then he hurries past me with his tray.

My chest tightens. I definitely don’t want to go back to the lounge. Maybe I should just go up to my room. No matter how good the money is, I don’t think I can do this. I take another sip of my wine, but it doesn’t help calm me at all.

“Why are you looking for her?” asks a smooth, low voice behind me.

I recognize it immediately. Terror shoots through me, and I jump about a foot in the air. My already-shaky hand spasms, breaking the glass. A sharp pain shoots through my palm as a shard cuts my skin.

I hold my injured hand, trembling as I regard the vampire from the lounge. I didn’t even hear her coming up behind me.

She’s much, much worse at close range. Her fangs are still long, christened with ruby-red blood at the tips. There’s a little crimson around the edges of her grey irises.

Even if she wasn’t horrifying to behold, her presence itself is haunting. It’s like stepping into a cemetery, or the feeling you get when you think there are no more stairs but there’s actually one more step, and your stomach jolts.

But the pain in my wrist brings me back to the present. The shard of glass must have cut deep, because blood is running thickly down my forearm. I’ll need stitches, for sure.

“C-could you…” I stutter, trying to ask her to call for a car to take me to the emergency room.

Instead, she steps forward, moving as smoothly as if she’s floating through the air. She takes my wrist, and puts her tongue to the wound.

Her touch is cold, and her tongue is spine-tinglingly chilly. She runs it from my elbow up to my palm, lapping up the trail of blood. Then she licks it again, along the seam of the wound.

Something powerful ignites deep inside of me. It’s such an intimate gesture, and strangely soft and graceful. It takes my breath away.

Before I can process what’s happening, the wound on my hand starts to heal. I can’t believe my eyes. The blood stops flowing as it knits up cleanly. She licks me one last time, lapping up the last drops with deliberate, practiced ease.

She swallows and licks her lips, with the satisfaction of a cat that’s just drank all the cream.

“You should be more careful,” she purrs. “I wouldn’t want that sweet blood to go to waste.”

“But…but it’s impossible…” I gasp, shocked at how quickly my wound healed. It should take weeks for a cut so deep to heal like that.

“Vampires have many abilities,” she says with a grin.

There’s a gleam in her eyes that makes me shiver. It also seems to be asking a question.

A request that I don’t know if I could deny…

“Crimson,” says a sharp voice from behind us.

The spell is broken. The vampire snarls, and turns around.

“What is it?” she snaps. It’s another vampire, the one with long blond hair. He looks at her nervously. She’s intimidating, even to the other vampires.

“You’re needed in the foyer,” he says quickly. “Murad wants to speak with you before your meeting with Waylan.”

Her nostrils flare. “Fine,” she says, sounding a little irritated. But I’m relieved to have the attention off of me.

I start to inch back the way I came, hoping I can make a quick exit.

“Where are you going?” she says sharply to me.

I inhale nervously, struggling to find my voice. “Um…back to the lounge…”

“You won’t be needed in the lounge,” she replies brusquely. She raises an eyebrow at me. “Go to my office. Down the east hallway, the last door on the left.”

Her clear, commanding tone leaves no space for disobedience. And without another word, she goes back down the hallway in the opposite direction, followed by the other vampire.

Her office? Am I in trouble? Is it because I broke the wine glass? Does she think my blood tastes bad? Is that even a thing?

Could she be firing me? That’s the only reason she would ask me to her office, isn’t it?

My thought spiral as I hurry deeper into the mansion, trying to find the offices.

I wish desperately that I could talk to Eloise, to ask her what’s going on.

I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I just don’t understand what’s expected of me here.

I didn’t even know that vampires had fangs like that, or that they could heal wounds by licking them…

I didn’t know…that they were the way she is…that they have the power to make your heart stop, or flutter…or to cause this agonizing ache in my stomach…

My head is spinning by the time I come to the end of the east hallway. At least I hope it’s the east hallway. I’m trembling so badly it’s a miracle I’m still on my feet, especially on these heels that I’m not used to wearing.

There are two doors at the end of the hallway: but did she say the left, or the right?

Usually I’m much more calm under pressure, but her presence made me flustered, and I can’t remember what she said.

The door to the left says “Xavian Night” in gleaming brass letters.

Isn’t that the vampire who’s dead? Or…is gone, I guess?

I don’t know what it’s called when they don’t exist anymore.

Do they turn to ash? Is that just in movies?

Focus, Paige.

The door opposite to it says “Roslyn Night.” That must be her’s. It’s slightly ajar, and I can hear soft voices from inside. I pause. I shouldn’t go in, right? Not if there’s someone already in there?

I bend my head, and hear a little of their conversation.

“Completely unprecedented!” says a low, furious voice. “How could she have just swooped in and assumed she’s taking over!”

“We should have expected this,” mutters a second voice, a little higher, but just as angry.

It sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.

“Xavian was bound to get staked in his ridiculous crusade with Tudor. The Crimson Stake was probably waiting for it to happen, so she could finally grasp his power for herself.”

“We have to eliminate her, immediately,” replies the other voice. “Before she can cement her position. If we convince enough vampires to join us, perhaps we could force a Winter strike…”

“No. It’s too risky. If she gets wind that we’re plotting something like that, she’ll stake us both in our coffins. We need something…more subtle. More immediate.”

There’s a pause. I look anxiously up and down the hallway, unsure of what to do.

I don’t want to go into the other vampire’s office, uninvited.

But I don’t want to go in this one either.

It’s clear that whoever’s in there is plotting something bad, and I don’t want to have any part in it. Can I run? Do I dare?

Then a sharp gasp distracts me. It’s the first vampire. He hisses, “How did you get it?”

“A witch owed me a favour,” the second vampire says, in a self-satisfied tone. “If Crimson drinks this, she’ll be weakened. It’s temporary, but if we’re quick enough, we should be able to…”

“Wait,” snaps the first vampire. “Do you hear that?”

Suddenly, the door to the office swings open. Fear courses through my veins. A vampire stands before me, one that I recognize from the lounge. He has short, dark hair, pale skin, and the same horrifying grey eyes as the vampire who commanded me to come here.

Before I can move or speak, he grabs me by the front of my dress and pulls me into the office, slamming the door shut behind us. I scream, but I’m so deep inside the mansion, I don’t know if anyone can even hear me.

“What are you doing here?” he demands angrily, his bright eyes clouded with red.

“The…the other vampire sent me!” I stutter, squirming in his viselike grip. I know I have no chance of escape, but the instinct is impossible to override.

“Who? Roslyn Night?”

“I…the one with short hair…”

“And eyes like mine?”

“Y-yes!”

The vampire grimaces, and tosses me carelessly to the ground. The office is large, plushly carpeted like the other rooms of the mansion, thankfully. Still, I cower before him in fear.

“How much did you hear?” he demands.

I inhale shakily. This is it. This is how I die. “Please,” I beg, tears rising in my eyes. I know that I’ve overheard their plot, and although I don’t understand it, it’s clearly nefarious. “I didn’t hear anything! Let me go, and you’ll never see me again. I promise…”

“We have to drain her,” he snarls, his eyes narrowing maliciously. “She obviously heard…”

“Wait,” says the other voice.

The second vampire steps out of a shadow. I’m surprised to see that she looks familiar. It’s the vampire who recruited me, at the vampire bar. Tonight, her sleek black hair is draped over her shoulders, but her terrifying gaze is trained on me again.

“Crimson sent her in here,” she continues, tilting her head slightly to the side. She’s looking at me like I’m a tender, juicy steak. “She’s probably going to drink from her, after your meeting.”

The other vampire’s expression softens. “Ah…”

“We can use her,” the second vampire says.

She bends toward me, and I can see she’s holding a vial of some clear liquid in one hand.

She puts on a smile, her eyes widening as she looks down at me.

Rather than making me feel more at ease, her expression puts all my nerves on high alert.

If these vampires don’t kill me, the stress of the night will be enough to give me a heart attack.

“I remember you from the bar. I recruited you, didn’t I? ”

I’m too scared to speak, so I nod instead.