Page 23 of Saved by the Vampire Goddess (Dark Wine Vampires #1)

Chapter twenty-three

Valroy

Minnesota Ark Prime—Moments later

I feel like a failure. The alluring scent of hot blood is hard to resist, especially when I’m hungry. After I chug down the last glass, embarrassment flushes through my veins. “Will we be able to bring enough, uh, dark wine to keep me fed?”

I don’t want to hurt anyone.

She tosses her long hair off her shoulder and screws up her mouth like she’s thinking about something. “Please clean those glasses, and I’ll grab some paper. We need to make a plan.”

I do as I’m told, even though following orders from a woman still feels odd. While the book gave me a better understanding of my rank in this hierarchy, I’m going to be under her thumb for a while, like a recruit at boot camp doing whatever the sergeant orders. Becoming a full-fledged vampire will probably take longer than I like. At least the book helped me see the uphill journey I’m undertaking, and that her telling me what to do is necessary—for the moment.

When she returns, she slaps a huge pad of paper on the table. It must be three feet long and almost as wide. She flips over the cover page to reveal pristine paper. Then she dumps a handful of colored pens next to it.

I approach this bounty reverently, touching the edges of the textured pad with envy and worship. Then I pick up a yellow pen and remove the cap. Felt tipped. I run it over my wrist and stare in amazement at the bright yellow line the ink leaves behind. “It’s wet. Why hasn’t it dried out?”

“Oh fer sure.” She sweeps the pen from my hand. “For the same reasons there aren’t any moth holes in your coat. They’ve been sealed in atmosphere-controlled conditions.”

I bring my hands together in veneration. The powers wielded by the Lux are those of the gods. “Great Jupiter.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Don’t go all religious on me. We have work to do.” In red ink, she starts by noting on the top of the page the number of blood bags I drink daily, and the number she does. “Hmm. Before we leave the ark, we’ll both overfeed.” She does some quick math and writes a number on the pad. “Looks like we’ll need two backpacks to carry all these bags and our clothes. If we run into a tough spot, I can mesmerize mortals and live-feed.”

My fangs lower at the very thought of sinking them into mortal flesh. “What about me?”

She scowls at me. “You have no control. You’re liable to kill them.”

“Wouldn’t this be a good time to practice? With you standing there—”

“Geez Louise, with everything else we gotta do, you want to practice?”

“Only if we have time, but isn’t it a good idea in case we run out and I have to live-feed?”

She taps her chin. “You may be right. Now, if you can get your mind off your belly for a moment, we have a plan to finish.”

She flips the first page over the top and tucks it under, then draws a circle on the next piece of paper. Standing, she aims her handheld device at the circle and pushes a button. A map of New Rome appears on the page in black ink.

She laughs. “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.”

There are no flies in our living area, but I can deduce her meaning.

She uses the yellow pen to highlight two points on the New Rome map. “We enter the dome here.” She taps the paper where she highlighted the first point. “And we end up at the emperor’s palace.” She sweeps her hand back and forth between the two spots. “Where can we hide during the day, a place that’ll keep us safe until it’s time to change into our fancy clothes for the party?”

I turn the pad so I can see the map from different angles. Then I point at a small rectangle. “There.”

“What’s that?”

“A boutique hotel catering to the domini, and near enough to the palace to be convenient.”

“What about your best buds? We gonna run into any of them staying there?”

“Highly unlikely. Terra’s Tavern provides lodging and food for high-ranking domini, but not too high. My friends never stay there. Makes it less likely we’ll run into anyone of my class. And we’ll wear domino masks. Pretty common at this time of year, when illicit lovers don’t want anyone to recognize them.”

She makes a sour face. “And just how will we pay—”

“Trade goods. Something small. I’ll look through your riches and pick something. Boutique hotels are accustomed to accepting barter.”

“Fine.” She marks the hotel in orange, then hands me a blue pen. “Draw the route you’d take to get there.”

I remove the pen’s cap and tentatively touch the tip to the paper.

She raps her knuckles on the table. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Just draw the darn thing.”

I jump back, startled, afraid of ruining the paper with my marks.

“Come on. We don’t got all night.”

“Quiet. I’m thinking.” The location where we’ll enter isn’t one I’m familiar with, so I work backward from the hotel, taking us to the nearest throughway where we’ll make the best time.

She studies the route I drew. “How long will this take us?”

“About four hours on foot.”

“Then we’ll leave here at dusk. By snowmobile, we’ll make it there in thirty minutes unless we get hit by a heavy storm. We should reach the hotel by ten at night.”

I shake my head. “Won’t work. In New Rome, anyone walking around at night is viewed with suspicion.”

“So we turn on the daylight bracelets to hide us as we walk.”

“You didn’t let me finish.” Even if she is my maker, I need to push back when I know more about a subject than she does. “If we arrive in the middle of the night, the hotel’s desk clerk will think we’re criminals.”

She furrows her brow and crosses her arms under her breasts, and my gaze follows the movement and lands on her luscious bosom.

“Eyes up here, mister.”

Warmth fills my face, and I jerk my gaze up to hers.

She snorts a laugh, then gets serious again. “Your plan means we’re walking around in daylight dodging people who can’t see us coming—”

“And if the hotel doesn’t work out, arriving at night means we have to wait around longer and risk having someone run into us or notice our shadows. Those bracelets aren’t foolproof.” We’ve practiced with them already, and in bright light, they throw a shadow that sparkles at the edges.

Her lips pull in at the corners. It’s the look she makes when she’s figured out that I’m right. “Okay, okay.”

I know New Rome culture better than she does, so she finally concedes the point and agrees to enter the dome shortly before sunrise, when fewer people are around, but with plenty of time to find some place to sleep before the moon sets at two thirty in the afternoon. We’ll wake again in a few hours when the sun goes down.

I twirl the pen I’m holding between my fingers. Such luxury. Which reminds me: “What’s next? Our gift for the emperor?”

“That’s your bailiwick. What have you picked out?”

I respectfully return the pen to its pile. “Once I saw the size of the football, I decided on something we could slide into the zippered pouch on the outside of the suitcase. The containment device has no handles, no way to carry it. We’re going to need a way to get it through the palace and keep it hidden. So we’ll make the harlequin—the dancer’s companion—his gift. It’ll fit.”

“And just what will we do with the suitcase? Drag it through the emperor’s ballroom?”

“Maybe. We’ll stuff clothing on top of the football to hide it from view. We’ll unzip the pouch, hand over the gift, and the guards will assume there’s nothing nefarious about the suitcase. We may have to improvise at that point to find a safe place to hide it. Or we keep the suitcase with us.”

“Wait,” she says. “Why do they have to see us at all? We can use the daylight bracelets to make us invisible and sneak through the front door, squeeze our way around everyone else.”

“Won’t work. The guards control who enters by checking invitations before formally opening the door for each royal guest. Squeezing past them would be impossible—our bubble would overlap with them and they’d see us. Plus, the ballroom is almost wall-to-wall royalty on this holiday. Too much risk someone would walk right into us.”

“Fine.” She turns the page and projects another line drawing. This one is the palace interior. She picks up the red pen again and circles a spot on the second floor. “According to Ingvar, his spy will meet us here.”

I study the drawing. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Stairs lead to that level, and the emperor rarely posts imperial guards along those hallways. At a public event, Klienet keeps his entire squad close at hand. We just need to skirt them, and all will be fine.”

“Well, that wraps up our work for tonight.” She flips the pages until the pad’s cover is on top again.

I glare at her. “What about my sister?”

“What about her?”

“When do we rescue her?”

She rubs her eyes. “After we steal the uranium, we’ll grab her on the way out. We agreed already, remember?”

That sounds like a terrible plan. We’ll need to scout Tina’s location and ensure she’ll be there when we escape the palace. Which means taking the right route to wherever she’ll be, even if we divert from the most direct course to exit the dome.

But I concede—for the moment—to keep the peace. Evelina saved my life, and Tina isn’t her top priority. I’ll have more opportunities to raise the subject before we leave.

I flip the pad’s pages, returning to the map. The electric-powered trains, built before the Collapse, run to the wealthier parts of town. “Will we have this map with us?”

“We won’t bring the paper, but I’ll have my handheld.” She aims the device at the map with our route highlighted, then makes a swiping motion at the screen. An image of the map hovers in the air.

I make a starburst with my fingers, then touch three fingers to my forehead. “May Diana bless us.”

Evelina shakes her head at me, puts the device away, snatches up the pad of paper, and huffs off with the glorious bounty.

Then it dawns on me. If the Lux are all-powerful, why don’t they have better maps of New Rome? But that’s a concern for another time.

Right now, my main goal is to rescue Tina.

Saving New Rome from the emperor’s stupidity? A much lower priority. Once I have Tina safely away—and Titus, if he’ll join us—the entire dome can sink into the River Styx for all I care.