Page 6 of Fated In Blood (Nocturne Vampire Clan #1)

6

EVANGELINE

“ W ow, this place is ginormous. And so fancy, I mean, just look at those mirrors . Are those real palm trees? How long have you worked here?” I chattered away to a clearly aggravated Bosch, which was kind of humorous, considering I never pictured immortals getting irritated by petty shit.

But as amusing as it was to torment Bosch, Darkmore Castle took my breath away.

For weeks I’d pored over pictures, yet nothing had prepared me for the castle’s sweeping grandeur. Every surface was covered in gold, and not the over-the-top kind, but the old-as-dirt-money kind. Black marble columns as wide as trees braced up a masterfully painted ceiling, the entire foyer lined with twenty-foot-tall gilt mirrors and those magnificent palm trees, and this was only the entrance.

“Keep fucking moving.” Bosch shoved me through the crowd, earning a few outraged, fangy snarls.

I shot him a vapid smile. “Gosh. I’ll bet you just love your job, don’t you?”

“Not fucking tonight, I don’t.”

I dipped my head to hide my grin. “Oh, don’t be modest. You seem like a man who enjoys what he does for a living. You know what they say. If you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life.”

In truth, I was only partly being a smart ass. I’d never been around this many vampires before, and since I was literally rubbing elbows with them, I was about to lose my shit. And when I lost my shit, I babbled. A lot .

“So…” God, there had to be three hundred vampires packed in this room with me . The sudden wave of fear was dizzying, but I swallowed it down and pasted that ditzy grin back on my face.

“Is this like a part-time security gig, or more like a full-time job?”

“You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” Bosch gripped his walkie talkie so hard the plastic squeaked in protest. “Here’s a hint, shut the fuck up or I’ll rip out your tongue.”

“Sheesh. Just trying to make some conversation. Lighten up, big guy.” I punched him in the arm and a vein throbbed in his forehead before he dragged me deeper into the crowd, vampires pressing in on every side until I couldn’t breathe.

I’d planned tonight’s operation down to the last possible variable—the timing, layout of the castle, optimal weapon choices, viable escape routes—but I hadn’t factored in the most obvious danger.

My body’s visceral reaction at being a tasty human morsel among a sea of powerful, hungry predators. Even the air affected me differently, like I’d been doused in a bucket of ice water.

I could barely think around the fear, my clammy hands clutching my purse like a life vest.

Vampires were ravenous, soulless beasts, but they were also beautiful, elegant creatures, and I didn’t know which was more dangerous—their fangs, hidden behind subtle smiles and soft laughter—or their vicious, sensual beauty on full display everywhere I looked.

There were a few humans scattered around the room, one young man, heartbreakingly beautiful, handed back and forth by a pair of savage males. An older female with bites covering her neck, eyes half closed in ecstasy, carried away through the crowd.

Proof they were the perfect hunters and we, their chosen prey.

But not tonight.

Tonight, the tables would turn. I’d been trained to kill them, ever since I could hold a dagger, and tonight, I would put those skills to the test.

But being here, so vulnerable, so human , felt very, very wrong. My instincts screamed at me to run , but my perceived weakness had been the essence of every trap I’d ever laid for these creatures. The snare they never saw coming until my knife was buried in their heart.

Tonight, I could not— would not—fail.

My sister’s life was at stake.

Bosch shoved me into an open spot between one of the enormous mirrors—I definitely saw the irony—and a towering potted palm. “Do not move from this spot or I will hunt you down like a dog.” Dark, cruel eyes raked over me with equal parts hunger and disgust.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, human, but I’ve got news for you.” His lip curled and this time, I got a good look at those fangs. “You aren’t Spencer’s type.”

I tried to look properly abashed, biting my tongue. I was plenty his type the night I carved him apart and torched him in that alley.

“If you say so. Please tell me if there's an open bar?” I fluttered my eyelashes. “I’m so thirsty I could positively die .”

Bosch was about to answer—presumably with some pithy insult—when a hush fell over the crowd, beginning at the open double doors and rippling through the crowd in an expectant wave, like a deep exhale of breath.

Heads craned before the throng parted like the ocean, leaving an open aisle before me. Close enough to touch, a powerfully built vampire with long, brown hair strode past, leather-clad shoulders thrown back, his fathomless gaze skimming coldly over every vampire in the room, like these glittering aristocrats weren’t worth his time.

Like all vampires, this male was breathtaking, his perfectly sculpted face ruined only by the white, jagged scar running from below his right eye to the corner of his mouth, giving him a perpetually arrogant smirk.

My stomach gave a visceral twist when that piercing stare landed on me.

The second our gazes locked—his hazel eyes flecked with bronze and burning with feral anger—his handsome face tightened for one frozen instant. I’d never felt so laid bare before, never so vulnerable. I didn’t know how he’d picked me out, an insignificant human among a sea of glittering, bloodthirsty monsters, then he was gone, his broad shoulders cutting a swath through the shocked crowd.

Another male followed a few paces behind, his prowling pace unhurried, hands buried in his pockets, shoulders thrown back, a wolfish grin curving his full lips. More traditionally handsome, yet just as powerfully built as his friend, but…his bearing was commanding. Regal.

Hair as black as night, eyes like pools of spilled ink, his dominating presence snared me like a butterfly in a net.

And I could lie all I wanted, but that thrill spreading through me…I found this particular monster …intriguing.

Instead of his friend’s barely restrained rage, he possessed an aura of quiet strength, his piercing indigo gaze skimming lightly over the crowd on his way past, barely grazing me. Even so, the crowd stilled the moment his eyes fell on them then bowed their heads.

In submission…or guilt for this hedonistic display?

He was so powerfully built he made Bosch look like a schoolboy, but instead of leather and boots, he was dressed in a fine wool suit, shining wingtip shoes, and pressed shirt, his silk tie an appropriate deep red for the occasion.

I realized something else, then.

If either of these males had decided to stalk me through the streets of Thorndale, my silver knives would not have saved me. And even so, I couldn’t look away, not until they were swallowed up by the crowd.

“Fucking hell. Nobody told me the king would be here tonight. Do not move .” Bosch shoved me firmly back in my place, then was gone.

Like… disappeared .

I’d heard vampires could vanish into thin air but had never seen the phenomenon for myself. The vampires I lured to their deaths were always so intent on sucking me dry, they never noticed the silver knives until it was too late.

Probably because the wolfsbane in their systems meant they couldn’t vanish.

I kept my head down, threading my way through the gauntlet of claws and teeth, fighting to keep my heart rate even while the weight of hungry stares stalked me, fear oozing from my every pore.

The king , Bosch had called the male who’d passed through, the crowd still murmuring in excitement. Did that mean they had an actual vampire king who ruled them? He must have been, the way the crowd had parted for him.

I didn’t stop moving until I reached a sheltered spot, hidden from the balcony overhead, out of the path of the traffic funneling straight toward the rear of the castle, presumably where the slave auction was taking place.

I opened my purse, made a big show of applying more lip gloss while firmly plugging in my earplugs, then dropped the tube back in my bag, cradling a small, barely noticeable device in my other hand. Then I headed for the magnificent wooden staircase where two carved dragons serving as newel posts, their sinuous, undulating bodies forming the railings leading up to the second-floor balcony.

The closer I got, the tighter the lump in my throat grew.

They were so beautifully carved every scale was perfectly defined, mouthfuls of vicious teeth on full display, clawed feet gripping the tiled floor, every talon sharp as a razor.

Fucking works of art.

What a shame I was about to lay them to waste.