Page 67 of The Vampire's Mercy

“He can’t be serious, bringing that executioner here.”

“He’ll kill us all.”

“Something’s got to be done.”

Familiar voices, a familiar theme.

I moved onto my back, eyes wide, the voices unrelenting. Let them speak. With one word, I could command them into silence, force them to do anything else other than speak. But I liked to know what my thralls thought of me, to gather their truths.

Did I grant them too much freedom?

I returned to my side, my mind too heavy. Yet while the daylight reigned, my body languished in fatigue.

These hours weren’t mine.

I’d been hearing a lot of this dissent lately. Not just from thralls, but vampires too. They were concerned about mysoftness, this latest development with Paris already sending shockwaves across the world.

They didn’t understand me.

They could never understand me.

I didn’t even understand me.

How easy it was for them to condemn me without carrying my burden around their necks.

Teach them a lesson. Why tolerate it when you are their life source?

I should take them all aside and make them beg me for forgiveness. Torture them, make them suffer for questioning my decisions. Yet that would make me a tyrant, a weak creature who couldn’t take even the smallest amount of criticism. Much like the president of the Human Domain who spread mines across his borders that were still there to this day. A man who refused to listen, who didn’t take dissent well.

If the mortals were honest, I think they would say they were thankful to my dear friend Vaughn for tearing his throat out. Instead, they had to honor his memory at End Day memorials to commemorate the end of the war.

Don’t start thinking about the past,I told myself. That would stir my pot of trauma.

On my back again, I touched the cold walls of my pit, longing for sleep, deep inside a maelstrom of voices, a riot of questions turning every cog in my brain.

In the end, I shut the thralls out for peace, escaping into my unsettled dreams an hour later.

CHAPTER TWENTY

PARIS

The fancy outfit melded to my body, but also moved without friction. Every piece fit perfectly and was super comfortable.

I could’ve backflipped in it.

Might have to when I escaped.

I pushed back my damp silver hair, flabbergasted by my reflection in the full-length mirror at the far end of the changing room. I looked good. The shirt came with a set of pearl buttons, the lace sheer. It clung to my swimmer’s build, perfectly tailored. Sexy. Really sexy, my perky nipples saying hello through the fabric.

Shit. I didn’t do sexy for fun, only for seducing vampire kings and Hal now and again. This damn thing needed to meet a bonfire.

Does Silvanus want to see me like this?

Done with the mirror, I found a hair dryer and some hair wax to fancy up my hair, and slipped on the brocade jacket, returning to the mirror to fix the amethyst choker in place.

I managed to tolerate my reflection again for like ten seconds before leaving the changing room, all preened and pretty and ready to eat.

Buckle up for an interesting breakfast.