Page 5 of The Vampire’s Mercy (Blood Melody #1)

CHAPTER FOUR

PARIS

Well, check me out.

No bruising on my neck, dressed in a teal crop top, showing off a scandalous amount of midriff. And my skin was glowing. My fair coral complexion practically sparkled in the bathroom mirror.

Perfect. I wanted to be a yummy treat for the vampire king—catch his attention, get him to take me away to a private room. Make him think his luck was in, then drive my stakeblade into his heart. The end. Hello, new world.

Apparently, he liked elf guys. I might be a jeans and hoody type, but I could pull off the sparkly elf look to turn his head and get him hot under the collar.

No problem. I’d do anything that meant him dying by the end of it.

I’d never seen King Silvanus myself. Not many people had.

Strange really, considering he’d been here for seventy years.

We’d learned plenty about his kin over the decades, but not him.

Sometimes it was like he didn’t exist beyond word of mouth.

A king who shunned the spotlight, hidden away, kind of a recluse.

But that word of mouth wasn’t a rumor. It was the truth, and Hal had been digging, along with his shadowy team of contacts, into the mechanics of the bloodsucker king’s movements.

Tonight, he’d be at a feeding ball right here in Oreflame. He popped up at these revolting events now and again.

I’d feel him the moment he arrived, since executioner senses were attuned to vampire comings and goings. And I assumed he’d give me the biggest read, being a king.

Feeding balls were created for mortals to donate their blood to vampires as a spicier alternative to voluntary extraction at a hospital.

In exchange, they would be rewarded for their gift in coin, clothes, or anything really.

Some mortals became lovers, or vampires, or whatever. It was all gross to me.

To become a vamp, and to give blood, you had to go through an application process. There was lots of paperwork and psychological assessments first, and approval from the king and the Global Order.

Vampires were seductive creatures, their magic potent, able to weaken the resolve of any mortal quickly. So everything had to be above board before anything went down.

Pfft. As if those rules were never broken.

I should know.

Fuck this society. Oh, wasn’t it lovely living in peace? Wouldn’t it be awesome for me to cut my losses, find a nice boyfriend, and head into the forest to live like an elf? Although I wasn’t sure how I’d run a flower shop in the middle of the woods.

Whatever. None of that mattered. And what would I want a boyfriend for? To love? No way. Love died when Pearl died. Love could go sit on a cactus.

This thinking hurt my soul. So, I fixed my silver hair, teasing it with wax, parted in the middle with decent volume, the product elevating my usual style into a more attractive version.

Add in some silver earrings for my pointy ears, a pair of tight white jeans to show off my peach, the silver band of my boxers peeking out, and sparkly white shoes—this outfit was ready to turn heads.

And bring your end, you fangy fucks.

Chuckling like a super villain, I sprayed on a fine mist of a woody, elvish perfume for extra alure and said goodbye to my plants, giving Oliver some special attention.

“I’ll be back soon, sweetie,” I told him.

He stirred, sending energy to me.

Hal was already at Majestic Moon, the club in Dawnfair, an affluent area in the west of the city where the feeding ball would take place. He was working at the bar undercover, gathering intel, properly assimilated into working life there.

He’d been so cute to me all afternoon. Reassuring me, telling me how proud he was of me for undertaking this mission, and promised me we’d get to the bottom of the nest and weird dagger stuff.

Man, I’d snogged the shit out of him when he’d left.

My belly twisted into knots. This was it. This really was it.

Get ready for me, Silvanus.

Get fucking ready.

I threw on a white leather jacket, drew luck down my chest, strapped on my breaker, and stepped out into the night.

I hated this area of the city. Lots of cobbled streets and red brick buildings, the streets cleaner than anywhere else in Oreflame. It was the place to spend big coin in the finest restaurants and grab the latest overpriced clothes from the fanciest of fancy boutiques.

And fake. So, so fake. Full of rich pricks and pampered idiots I couldn’t stand to be around.

Unless I had to be.

Two werewolves greeted me at the door of the club.

Big guys in their humanoid form, wolfy yellow eyes boring into me.

Suited and booted in black suits, they scanned me, then checked the fake paperwork Hal submitted a few weeks ago on their glass techpads.

Then the one with the mohawk patted me down while the bald one took a long sniff.

“Smelling sharp, dude,” he spoke with a growl, his neck bigger than my thighs. “Good enough to eat.”

“Thanks.” I kept it cute, injecting false promise in my tone.

Sell the lie.

Sell the sex.

He took another sniff. “What you doing after?” His hand went to cop a feel of my backside, but he thought better of it.

“Recovering,” I answered, batting my lashes.

He licked his lips. “Come find me if you’re not too drained. Think we can make sweet mattress music together.”

Mohawk Guy found that hilarious.

I swallowed a groan. “Maybe I will.” With a wink from me and an enthusiastic growl from him, I passed the first wave of security.

Up next were four vampires in a silver vestibule, standing beneath an elaborate chandelier with real candles in it, waiting to conduct the same checks.

My senses tingled with alertness, my skin prickling, brain pinging with the word vampire over and over again.

Four sets of red eyes, four creatures dripping in designer clothes, everything about them stylish as they inspected every inch of me.

“Well, aren’t you interesting?” A red-headed woman with skin the pale shade of moonlight spoke, baring her fangs. An elf-turned-vamp, her pointy ears pricked with an array of colorful ear studs. “You’re the most delicious thing to arrive tonight.”

Her sickly sweet voice made my skin crawl.

Steeled against my desire to stab her in the heart, I kept my game face on.

“Thanks,” I said. “Can I come in?”

She looked at her companions—two men and another woman. They laughed together.

Humans by the looks of it. The original vamps all looked human, scarlet eyes and fangs aside. Now the world was a smorgasbord of fangy scum.

“Absolutely,” the redhead woman said. “More than absolutely. You are a prize, my dear. A real find.”

Good. Good. Good.

They did their bit, checking me over. Took my name. I used a fake one, called myself Drew instead of Paris. Then they let me in, the redhead guiding me into the club.

I entered a large room of silver-and-black décor, engulfed by strobe lights and pulsating bass. Bodies moved around me, laughing, shouting, singing along to the music, mortals mingling with vampires, many eyes pointed my way, sizing me up.

I smiled and said hi, all while assessing the room for exits and anything that might help if things went to shit.

I spotted Hal over at the curved bar. Didn’t acknowledge him. Vamps were wily creatures, and highly sensitive. The moment I so much as twitched the wrong way, I’d get us both killed.

Anyway, Hal had done his part with the intel. Now it was up to me to finish things.

The woman took my arm. “This way.”

I felt a flutter of panic, my instincts reaching for the kill switch.

“You’re going over there.” She pointed to a section with a blue neon sign buzzing above.

VIP Area.

I nodded, quickly calming down. “Really?”

“Yes, Drew. Tonight is going to be amazing for you.”

Maybe I’m in over my head.…

Screw doubt. I was doing this.

The vamp led me through the throng, greeting a blond werewolf bouncer on the way before ushering me through the billowing silver curtain beyond the red velvet rope.

On the other side, a human in the coat check took my jacket.

“Ooo cute,” she declared, nodding at my crop top.

I thanked her, heading into an area of luxurious silver booths, a dancefloor, bar, and more strobe lights. VIPs chatted and danced and hung out in the booths. They were having fun, relaxing, and smoking mistrock cigs.

The music throbbed through the floor and into me. I took a seat on a super-comfy chair, sparking up a cig to blend in, to show I was just as chilled out and happy to be here as the rest of them.

And to help with the squirming anxiety.

I rested my elbows on the onyx table. The air carried the scent of various perfumes and the vanilla of mistrocks, the temperature pretty warm.

Okay, time to sell the bullshit harder.

I slid off the seat, sauntering over to the bar.

A vampire with the curliest brown hair I’d ever seen stopped me. “Hello there.” He cocked his head to the side, a blue strobe light playing over his dark brown face.

“Hi,” I said brightly. “How are you?”

As if I gave two shits.

With no respect for boundaries, he gave my exposed belly a poke. “Better for seeing you.”

“Oh. I’m just getting a drink.”

“I’ll get it for you, baby.” He puckered his lips then smirked, his red eyes burning.

Baby, huh? Someone pass me a chainsaw to show him what this baby could do.

“I’m swee… I mean, I’m fine. But thank you anyway.” Better leave that word out of my mouth for now.

He blocked me as I went to pass him. “Wait.” Being a total creep, he slid a finger into the band of my underwear, giving them a snap. “Fucking hot.”

Not drop-kicking him was a testament to my patience. “I—”

“I can fuck you into next week.”

You seem more like a three pumps and done kind of guy. “I—”

“Come back to mine,” he cut me off again. “Got a penthouse nearby.”

Of course he did.

“Great views, huge bed,” he added. “I’ll drink you and fuck you and make you breakfast in the morning.” He grabbed me, crushing my biceps. “Don’t say no.” Out came the fangs, a waft of sexy energy passing over me.