So far no one had stopped us, which probably meant no one had figured out where we were. I shivered, and Andre tucked me against him. Unlike me, he didn’t seem cold. And rain soaked he looked like he could walk onto the cover of GQ or Men’s Health.
No fair.
Ahead of us a taxi that Andre had called for back at the B&B waited for us. Just as I stared at it, a shadow moved from my peripheral vision. My head snapped to the movement, but I saw nothing. Just rain and darkness and streetlights spilling what little light they gave off onto the street.
“What is it?” Andre asked, looking over my shoulder.
I’d forgotten he was there, and I’d also forgotten just how observant he was. He hadn’t lived and ruled for seven centuries due to his looks alone.
I shook my head. “Just shadows,” I said, brushing it off.
Andre’s arm tightened around me, and he hustled me the rest of the way to the car. He knew better than me. In the supernatural world, shadows were never just shadows.
The taxi drove for over two hours, only stopping once we hit Munich, where phase one of our craptastic, we-will-surely-die plan would begin.
When it pulled up in front of a coffee shop, I raised my eyebrows. “A … coffee house? You live above a coffee house?” It seemed so not Andre.
He winked. “I’m full of surprises.”
It says a lot about Andre that he was able to pay the driver most of the fare in cash. I had to use a bit of my magic to persuade him that he wasn’t getting partially stiffed when he so obviously was.
Andre took my hand. “Come, soulmate.”
He led us past the coffee shop, down a narrow alley. Here flakes of snow lightly drifted down. We hooked a left at the end of it and turned onto a small road. Businesses butted up against it, and we eventually stopped in front of a door that seemed as though it, like the others, led to some shop.
Andre yanked on the knob, breaking the lock, and ushered me inside. The first thing I noticed was the motorcycle off to the right of the door. The bike had been parked in front of a garage door that rested next to our entrance.
“Where are we?” I asked, looking beyond it. A long hallway extended away from us.
“A persecution tunnel of mine.” Andre flicked on the lights just as the door closed behind us. I heard metal scrape and turned in time to see Andre using a steel beam to barricade the door.
Who in the hell leaves steel beams just lying around?
Andre caught my eye. “You’re better off not asking, soulmate,” he said, hearing my unspoken question.
Above the door a grainy screen embedded into the wall showed us footage of the alleyway. I glanced from it, to the beam, and back to the motorcycle.
I really didn’t want to know.
As far as persecution tunnels go, this one had been nicely outfitted. It made me wonder just what sort of unsavory events Andre had been up to here in recent years.
He has a criminal record a mile long, Leanne had once said.
Hello criminal record.
Andre came up from behind me and placed a hand on the small of my back, urging me forward. Together the two of us headed down the hall until we hit another door, this one equipped with a thumb scanner.
Jesus.
Andre pressed his thumb to the pad, and a moment later, the door swung open. A room waited for us on the other side, and beyond it, another hall stretched out.
“Do I even want to know why you need all the security?”
“No.”
Fair enough.
We continued on for what felt like forever, but was probably only another minute or so, when we came up to a normal door.
“No retinal scanner?” I asked. “And here I was hoping.”
Almost against his will, a grin broke out along Andre’s face.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked. Andre’s coven had a habit of coming and going to his estates; surely one or two would be here.
I guess it didn’t matter, regardless. It was too late now for regrets.
“If anyone tries to harm you, they will rue it. That I promise you.” Andre’s eyes flashed as he looked at me. My mind went to the bloody bodies scattered around an altar beneath Bran Castle, all cut down by this man.
Yes, I believed with absolute certainty that my soulmate would make good on his promise.
I cracked my knuckles. “Let’s do this.”
On the other side of the door was a small study. I made a note that if I ever returned to Bishopcourt, I would see if the study there had any secret passageways. We exited the room and entered a large entryway.
As soon as Andre’s house staff caught sight of Andre and me, they scrambled to accommodate us. Apparently their loyalties still lay with the king of vampires, news or not. When their eyes landed on me, and they stared—not with fear or hatred, but with rapt attention—I realized it might even be simpler than that. They were human. Mortal. Normal. And they’d never seen a siren before. I’d never been so relieved to be gawked at.
“Andre?” A male voice called out.
I swiveled to see a man with blond hair stroll from another room.
“My God man, you should not be here—” His eyes moved to me. It took less than a second for his shock to appear then vanish from his face. Drawing his lips back, he hissed. “What is that godforsaken creature doing here?”
Ah, there was the angry vampire. Just when I thought I might actually get a little respite from the fighting and fleeing.
“She’s with me, Tybalt,” Andre said, stepping forward. Every line of Andre’s body promised aggression, “and she has my protection.”
Tybalt’s muscles tensed, and I fell into a fighting stance. Words were pretty and all, but this dude was beyond them.
Andre must’ve thought so too. His body blurred, and he rushed the blond vampire just as Tybalt began to lunge. Grabbing the man’s neck, Andre slammed him into the ground. The marble floor cracked at the force of impact.
“You will not harm your queen.”
My skin tingled at his aggression, my siren chomping at the bit to get out.
The man hissed again. “Andre, this is madness. She’s wanted by the devil. You’ve let the enemy into your home. She’ll kill us all.”
Andre didn’t like the sound of that. His fist came down hard on Tybalt’s face. I heard things crack, smelled the vampire’s stolen blood as it dripped out of his crushed nose, and heard his whimper.
“You think I don’t know?” Andre roared. He slammed his fist down again.
Ho boy, someone had been hankering for a fight, and now he’d found one.
“For Christ’s sake, Andre,” Tybalt said, his words somewhat garbled from the hits, “you killed Theodore on her behalf. She needs to die.”
Andre hissed back at the man, his fangs fully descended. As I watched, he applied pressure to Blondie’s neck.
I glanced around. Andre’s human servants had made themselves scarce. I wondered if they were used to seeing unnatural things here or if they’d been hired for their discretion. Or perhaps they fell into the third category: clueless and scared shitless.
When I swiveled back around, the man’s eyelids were fluttering and he made slight choking noises.
“You think this is some sick game to me?” Andre’s voice echoed off the walls. “The devil wants my soulmate.”
He pulled his fist back, but it wavered. “The devil wants her,” he repeated. This time grief and not anger ruled his voice. “And you wish me to deliver her to him.”
Nope, I was wrong. Anger was back. Still, that fist hesitated.
“I could not devise another betrayal so great as that,” Andre said. “She is my soulmate, and while she lives, you and every other vampire will afford her the respect she is due.”
The man’s eyes flicked to me and his upper lip twitched, like he wanted to snarl again but only just held himself back. Finally he nodded.
Andre didn’t relinquish his hold.
Right now I nee
ded allies, and these were my people—our people. Maybe, if given a chance, I could convince them.
Just like you convinced the Politia, a bitter voice inside me said. I swallowed. My life might come down to the associations I made.
I stepped up behind the two and placed a hand on Andre’s shoulder. Blondie’s gaze darted to the touch.
“Andre, please.”
I thought he wasn’t going to listen, but after several seconds he slowly released his grip on the vampire. The blond man stayed on the ground and rubbed his neck. His facial wounds had already healed.
I reached out a hand to help him up, but Andre pushed it down and stepped in front of me.
“I will die before harm comes to my mate,” he said. The three of us knew the weight of that statement. If Andre died, every vampire descended from him—essentially the entire coven—would die with him. “You’d be wise to consider her prophecy through that filter.”
Tybalt’s eyes widened. When his gaze traveled to me, it was as though he was seeing me in a new light. “I had never considered that interpretation.”
Holy shit. I’d never considered the prophecy in those terms either, but it made a sick sort of sense. As far as I was aware, the prophecy hadn’t said that I would personally kill off every vampire; it had said that I’d lead to their extermination. Perhaps my involvement was indirect. But that interpretation meant Andre died. I almost choked on the idea of him dead and gone.
Andre held an arm out to Tybalt as though he hadn’t been wailing on the dude a moment before. I guess it was a peace offering. The vampire took it, and Andre hauled him to his feet. “Unfortunately,” Andre said, “considering the bounty out on my mate, that might be the only interpretation left.”
Now when Tybalt met my gaze, something like pity clouded his features. “I see.” He inclined his head, first to Andre, then to me, looking sheepish. “Apologies for the hostility. As always, Sire, I am at your service.”
“Good, because I need you to pass along a message to the coven,” Andre said, stepping away from him to return to my side. “For now, let it be known that unless all vampires want to wipe themselves from existence, they should do everything in their power to keep my mate alive.”
Tybalt’s face grew grim, but he gave a jerky nod.
“Alert the coven that I’m calling for a meeting at Bishopcourt. Tell them to make their own accommodations on the Isle of Man. No one is to set foot on my property until I give the order to do so. Once I’m in town, I will give the details of the meeting and explain more fully my and Gabrielle’s circumstances.
“Let it be known that the estate is to be neutral territory. If anyone betrays our meeting to those outside the coven or thinks to attack, they will be bled, gutted, and burned at first light.”
Holy shitballs, that was intense. I kept my mouth clamped shut.
“Consider it done,” Tybalt said. With another bow of his head, he left us.
Andre turned to face me, his eyes daring me to challenge his orders. He knew I hated violence. But hey, threats never hurt anyone.
Until they did.
Andre reached out a hand to me. Another peace offering. I stared at it; Tybalt’s blood still stained it.
“Are you going to take my hand?”
“Would you really do it?” I asked, my gaze flicking up to him.
“Without hesitation, love.” My heart sputtered at the endearment, even as another part of me recoiled at his statement.
“And would you enjoy it?” I don’t know why I asked. Maybe because I had never really considered the dark part of Andre.
He didn’t answer immediately. I could tell he was wary of what my reaction would be. “Normally—no,” he finally said. “But if it endangered you, I would relish every second of it.”
I believed him. So help me, I did.
His eyes glittered as he watched me. “Does that scare you, soulmate?”
“What do you think?”
“I think that if roles were reversed, you’d be shocked by what you wouldn’t do to save me.”
He loved me something fierce and dreadful, and I knew in my heart of hearts everything he said was true—even the last part.
Especially the last part.
I took his outstretched hand. He gave me a small smile. “Now,” he said, forcing some cheerfulness into his voice, “my soulmate must be hungry.”
And just like that, things were normal once more.
Andre brought me to the kitchen and asked one of the servants to whip up something for me to eat.
“Which would you prefer—” Andre said, placing his hands on my hips and maneuvering me next to the counter, “to drink blood straight from the source or from a bag?”
I cringed, but even as I did so, my canines descended. Seemed like I no longer craved just food.
Ew.
I mulled his request over. The thought of tapping into a live vein seriously turned me on, and that seemed wrong.
“Um, blood bag.” I’d save nipping someone’s neck for later.
Andre called one of his servants back over to prepare us both a glass of blood as well as a plate of pasta for me.
“What about you?” I asked once the servant left. “What’s your preference?” I hadn’t fully thought through that question until I asked it.
Visions of Andre pulling some scantily clad woman onto his lap and tapping into her jugular filled my mind. I remembered how good it felt to drink from another—and how good it felt to get bitten. Surely something like that would lead to other, more carnal acts. The possibility killed me.
“I’ve always preferred my meals living,” he said, only confirming my fears.
I glanced away. How would I come to terms with this aspect of ourselves?
Two of Andre’s fingers touched my chin. “But,” he said, tipping my head back to face him, “I will relinquish live feedings for as long as it makes you uncomfortable.”
My gaze darted back to Andre. “What if I’m never comfortable with it?”
“Then I will come to enjoy the taste of packaged blood.”
I furrowed my brow. “You’d do that?”
“For you, anything.” He smiled. It faded a second later. “There is, however, a chance that in the upcoming days neither of us will get a choice in the matter.”
If we were hunted. I desperately hoped I wouldn’t need blood that badly. As it was, I was barely coming to terms with the fact that I needed to drink it at all.
“We will prevent that the best we can.” A statement Andre emphasized by calling over yet another servant.
“Sir?”
“Bring me an enchantment bag and pack it with the necessities—including blood bags, human food, and spare clothes for Gabrielle.”
The servant bowed his head and disappeared out the room. He, like the others, had smelled human. “He knows what an enchantment bag is?” Even I didn’t know what that was, though I’d wager I would very soon.
“You of all people, Gabrielle, should know that all is not as it appears. My servants—even the human ones—must know a thing or two about the supernatural world and about me before I’ll hire them.”
I stared at the door the servant had left through. “If they know so much about our world, then what’s to stop them from squealing on us the first chance they get?”
“It’s easy to enchant humans.”
Oh. Well, that sounded unpleasant.
Another servant chose that moment to enter the room carrying a tray with two glasses of blood and a plate of pasta on it. I couldn’t keep the twisted smirk off my face when my eyes landed on the sight. It shouldn’t look so normal.
“Thank you,” Andre said, nodding to the man as he set the blood and food in front of us.
I stared at the steaming plate of pasta. It looked delicious, but I found I had no appetite for it.
Andre took one of the wine glasses and leaned against the counter, his eyes narrowed as he assessed me.
He notices everything.
<
br /> I gingerly picked up my fork and speared the noodles, shoving the pasta into my mouth. It tasted like chalk, and my throat closed up at the intrusion of food. I could barely eat my favorite meal. Instead my eyes kept returning to the blood.
Andre took a sip of his drink, then leaned forward to push my glass towards me. “It’s okay to crave it, soulmate.” He had been watching, and now he was trying to make me feel better about my new, freakish craving.
I grabbed the glass and took a sip. I practically moaned at the taste. I took another gulp, and then another. I paused only to take several more bites of pasta. It tasted a little better now, but nowhere near as good as the blood.
Guess I was a little too … bloodthirsty.
After I finished eating, Andre led me upstairs, holding open a door to what looked like the master suite. “Soulmate, relax and freshen up. I will take care of the details of our parting from this place.”
I stepped inside and turned back to face him. “You’re not going to join me?”
Immediately heat seeped into his gaze. “I would like nothing more, soulmate.”
I hadn’t meant the question as a sexual offer per se, but now that he was looking at me like that, my mind couldn’t help drifting to all the ways one could relax together. My skin glimmered. I was pretty sure I would also like nothing more.
He ran a hand through his hair. “I must get our plans in order.” Reluctantly he pushed away from the wall. The look he gave me promised to resume this discussion.
Eep.
“I’ll be back to collect you inside an hour. Until then,” he raised an eyebrow, “enjoy yourself enough for the both us.”
In the bathroom, I splashed cool water onto my face, telling myself to get a grip. People were after me; the last thing I should be thinking about was getting physical with Andre. I grabbed a nearby hand towel and dried my face off.
How was this all going to work? Him and I living on the run? How far would we get? And how long would I survive? I didn’t doubt that Andre had the resources to keep me alive, but what kind of existence was that?