Twice Dead (15 page)

“It could be Gareth, I suppose,” she said, her thin eyebrows drawing together in sideways question marks.

Mama Neda’s gnarled fingers shot out, snatching the photo. She studied it, scratching her lopsided bun and pressing her wrinkled lips together. “Mama Neda won’t complain about the view, but she can’t recognize this ass from another. Where is the little stud’s head, she’d like to know?”

And wasn’t that the question
everyone
wanted answered?

Mama Neda passed the photo to Nathanial next. He glanced over the image, shaking his head before passing it back to Tatius. After one more glance at the gray body floating in a sea of crimson, Tatius re-folded the image with deliberately slow movements, as if quick movements would tear the image to shreds. Then he tucked the photo back into the canister and dropped the disembodied fangs in with it, before sealing the lid.

Nuri cleared her throat in a single, feminine cough. “Sire, may I suggest once again that you cancel tonight’s meeting until this”—her long fingers swept through the air, indicating the canister still clutched in Tatius’s hand, “—is resolved.”

“Not an option. I cannot show weakness.”

Her dark eyes narrowed. “Then let me put extra enforcers in the room.”

Tatius hesitated. “Nothing obvious.”

The ancient pre-teen vampire smiled as she ducked her head in acquiescence. I had the distinct feeling her idea of
obvious
and Tatius’s would differ. She’d put as many enforcers in the room as she could rationalize.

Tatius stared at the dark canister a moment more. Then he pushed away from the table. His chair scraped the floor as he stood. “Cormac, spread the word, everyone is to roost in the sanctuary night and day. No exceptions. I don’t want a single vampire of mine on the streets until after the Collector and her entourage have left town. Nuri, increase security at all the entrances to the sanctuary. Then head to Death’s Angel and find out if anyone saw anything. Anything at all.”

Cormac, the balding vampire, and Nuri both nodded, and I clenched my hands at my sides, waiting for someone to disagree. No one did. Tatius shoved his chair under the table and turned away.

I looked around. Everyone was getting up. Even Nathanial stood and pushed his chair under the table.

“But…”

Nearly half a dozen gazes slammed into me. Nuri looked annoyed, Cormac irritated, Mama Neda—well, she just looked crazy, like always. Nathanial gave me a worried look, almost a warning one.
As if I don’t realize silence is smarter.
Still…?

I ignored all of them as I turned to Tatius. I didn’t meet his gaze, but stared at his shoulder as I grasped for the most diplomatic way of saying what was on my mind. “If you gather your vampires and increase your display of militant force, won’t the Collector see your actions as hostile?”

I’d seen a similar situation occur in Firth once. A misunderstanding had turned into a bloody feud between two clans because both assumed the other was about to invade their lands. My father had been one of the
Torins
the elders assigned to clean up the aftermath and negotiate communication. He’d described it as a messy and unnecessary waste of life.

Tatius didn’t move, but the air around me might have well turned solid, unbreathable. I looked down, biting my tongue—too late, of course.

“She might be right,” Nuri said, startling me enough that I jumped. “As the Collector already considers herself the injured party, she would be over sensitive to an increase of hostile activity.” She sounded irritated to agree with me, but I gave her points for seeing past the fact I was a ‘baby vampire’ and actually considering my idea.

Tatius, on the other hand, scowled. “Then gather everyone quietly. I won’t have my people at risk on the streets until I believe the danger has passed. And if I need an army around me, I want my vampires here, at the heart of the city, ready to defend my territory. Now go.” He turned away from them.

Nuri lowered her gaze. “Yes, sire.”

“Should Mama Neda alert the Collector of when Tatius wants to see her?” Mama Neda asked, oblivious to the mounting tension.

Tatius paused without turning back to the table. “No. You and Nathanial go ensure the room and entertainment is prepared. I have something to do before I join you.” He took several steps from the table, and I’d just begun to relax in my chair when his voice drifted back toward me. “Aren’t you supposed to be following?”

I cringed, sinking lower in the chair.
Don’t be talking to
me.

Do I have to move you?
Tatius’s voice asked in my head.

I jumped to my feet, knocking over my chair in my haste.

It crashed to the floor. The dining room went silent.

Eyes turned to our table, and Nathanial’s brow creased, obviously fighting the strain of so much attention focusing on his illusion. I reached for the fallen chair, but Tatius was already there, righting it. Once the chair was on all four legs, Tatius’s hand closed around my bicep, his grip vice-like, his fingers pinching my bare skin. “We have unfinished business.”

With that said, he set a quick pace away from the table with me in tow.

* * * *

The door to Tatius’s suite closed behind us, and I rubbed my palms on my dress. I had the feeling this had something to do with feeding and that whole I-need-master’s-bloodnightly thing. I’d seriously been hoping he’d forget.

The candles, which had been dark when I woke, now sputtered to life. Tatius crossed the room without comment on the sudden appearance of the flames. He opened the door to his bedroom, and I swallowed hard.
He doesn’t think I’ll…

?

I shook my head, and his eyes narrowed. I stepped back, the movement completely involuntary. I did
not
want to go to his bedroom. Sharing blood was intimate enough. My gaze shot around the sitting room, looking for some way out of this. I’d never been alone with Tatius before, at least not while I was conscious. I couldn’t follow him into that room. I just couldn’t.

I have to.

My fists clenched at my sides, but I knew it was true. I had to follow him. If I didn’t walk on my own, he would move me.

Wrapping my arms across my chest so he wouldn’t see my hands trembling, I ducked my head and trudged across the room and through the open door.

I stopped in the center of the bedroom and just stood there, uncertain. The door clicked closed behind me. I waited.

I didn’t turn around. It was easier that way. I felt the heat from Tatius’s body fill the air behind me, and I held my breath.

His hands landed on my shoulders, and I jumped. Then I closed my eyes as his heat pressed along my back.

“You’re trouble,” he whispered, his lips inches from my ear.

I expected him to bite me, some small part of me even wanted him to, but one moment he was filling all my senses, and the next the world spun around me. Tatius whirled me around, strands of my hair flying free with the motion. My back slammed into the wall on the far side of the room, knocking the air out of me, and something hard pressed against my throat.

I swallowed—a reflex—and the sharp blade of Tatius’s dagger bit into my throat. A trickle of heat slid down my skin as the nick drew blood. Tatius didn’t pull back.

“Where did you go?” His voice was rough, demanding. It matched his eyes, which were hot. Not with passion. With rage.

“I didn’t—” I didn’t get a chance to tell him I hadn’t meant to leave. That it hadn’t been my choice.

He pressed the dagger deeper, cutting me off. “Don’t lie to me. I might not have fully bound you, but I can feel you. Where did you go?”

I didn’t dare breathe. How could I answer? I didn’t know what I could say to appease him.
A mage dragged me off to a
graveyard?
I didn’t even know where we’d gone. It was south, somewhere without snow. That was the extent of what I knew.

Somehow I didn’t think that would satisfy him.

Nothing I said was likely to help me. I hadn’t planned to leave. Hadn’t even meant to. But, I didn’t know how to convince him of that fact.

Or maybe I did.

“Look.” I whispered the suggestion, trying to speak without driving the dagger deeper. “Bite me and look.” I hated the idea of his fangs in me, but he’d have to see then that I hadn’t wanted to leave. Besides, he would bite me eventually anyway.

He stared at me, his intense gaze assessing. Then, in one movement, the dagger withdrew and his fangs pierced my throat.

He’d been gentle, almost teasing, last night. He wasn’t gentle now. My back arched, my chest pressing into his as he tore into my flesh. Then the first deceptive wave of pleasure rode through my body. I shuddered and tried to remember to think about Gil, about her throwing me in the void and magicking me away to that cemetery, but it was hard to think about anything except the heat rushing through my body, pooling in my abdomen. Tatius’s hands, which had been pinning me against the wall, slid down the curve of my back, lifted me, pressed me against his body.

I gasped as he drew back. His tongue circled the bite wounds, but he didn’t close them—again. Then his hand slid into my hair, drew my head back. His tongue traced the shallow cut from the dagger. That wound he sealed.

I was still breathing heavily when he straightened. He didn’t release me, which was good. I couldn’t have stood on my own. I hated it, but it was true.
Vamp tricks.
I
hated
vamp tricks.

He bit his wrist and held it before my nose. In that moment, as shaky and unreal as I felt, the cloying scent of his blood was beyond my ability to resist. I closed my lips around the wound without being told and drew hard. His blood flowed faster tonight, the consistency not as syrupy thick as before. It was still as potent. I could feel the strength flowing into my limbs, feel the world sharpen around me. My legs turned solid under me, and I sealed the wound.

He frowned as I drew back, but he didn’t reopen the bite.

With a nod, he stepped away and I scooted around him. He could cross the room before I could blink, could slam me into the wall again before I could react. I
knew
that. But distance still made me feel better. And it was a hell of a lot better to not be cornered.

“Now what?” My voice came out steadier than I expected, and I gave myself points. I could have been discussing the weather for all my tone revealed.

His eyes roved over me, but they were calmer now.

“There’s no time to find you a new dress.”

“Er… okay?” I glanced down. The corset strings were a little damp, and there were dried water-stains from the snow on the vinyl, but it wasn’t like I’d ripped it or anything. At least if he was worried about the dress he wasn’t planning on killing me.

Tatius stepped forward. He circled me twice. Then he reached out and pulled a clump of my hair free of the ornate up-do Samantha had labored over. Nodding, he tugged at the plunging neck of my dress, but not like he was pulling it into place, more
out
of place.

I jumped back. “What are you doing?” I asked, as I attempted to twist the dress back into what felt straight.

He swatted my hands away and rearranged the garment incorrectly again. “If you’re going to look unkempt, you will look like the reason is for something more interesting than wandering around a cemetery with a couple of mages. Now stay still.”

I blinked.
A couple of mages?
He said it so casually, as if it were no big surprise. I’d found out a couple of weeks ago about Sabin and the existence of mages, but the idea still hadn’t become expected. “You
know
about the mages? I mean, before you were in my mind, you knew they existed?”

His very old, very heavy gaze cut down to meet my eyes.

Then he shrugged. “Don’t look so shocked. The mages haven’t always been as secretive as they are now.”

“But Nathanial…” Nathanial hadn’t known. I knew he hadn’t. He’d been as shocked as I had, though he’d admittedly handled the revelation better than me.

“Nathanial is powerful, but he is young,” Tatius said, pulling more pins from my hair.

I tried not to let my dismay at his words show in my face.

Nathanial was over four-hundred years old. That was not
young
—not by any definition I could think of.
Exactly how old
is Tatius?

The question must have been clear in my expression. “I am ancient,” he said. “And I am master of this city. I am privy to secrets my subjects are not. You’ll do good to remember that secrets are meant to be kept quiet.”

I nodded. The judge had bound a certain amount of silence into my very skin when he’d marked me, so I wasn’t about to go blabbing about what I’d seen recently. If I could have forgotten all about mages and vampires, I would have—life had been simpler when shifters were the only supernaturals I knew about.

That thought touched something deeper.

“Did you know about my… that is, shifters?” I asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“You ask too many questions.” He finished releasing my hair from the elaborate up-do and ran his hands through it.

“That will suffice,” he said, once I looked like I’d been rolling around in a bed.

“I—”

He didn’t give me a chance to protest but wrapped his arm around my waist and dragged me out of the room. “Spirited or not, the only thing I expect your mouth to do tonight is smile. Now, we’ve a date with the Collector.”

Chapter Thirteen

I fidgeted in my spot on the overstuffed chaise, and Tatius’s hand slid down the curve of my body, making all my muscles lock in response—I also stopped fidgeting, which was probably his intention. Heat from his body pressed along my back where we were touching, sharing a chaise in such a way a permanent blush burned across my cheeks.

Concentrating on relaxing in my position—because if I got too stiff, Tatius would slide into my mind and force my body to relax—I tuned back into the conversation. So far the Collector and Tatius had engaged only in small talk, a tense dance of gossip about vampire business around the country.