Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Angelo

As my limousine rolled up the winding driveway, I admired the elegant grandeur that was Simon Cartier's Ravenwood Estates. The sprawling white antebellum mansion stood proudly beside the murky bayou, surrounded by tall oaks and immaculately manicured gardens. Its facade boasted towering columns and expansive verandas, exuding a deceptive air of tranquility that masked the estates' true purpose. I had thought of buying this place and taking over Simon's venture so many times, but I'd never gotten around to making him an offer he couldn't refuse.

The moment I exited my car, I saw Trystan's signature blue limousine looming large, out of place in its gaudiness and clamoring for my attention. An involuntary grunt of annoyance bubbled up, and my eyes rolled. The damned wolves always had to show off their pack color. They weren't the only ones flaunting their wealth though—I noticed Simon's sleek red Ferrari parked a few spaces down.

I nodded to my driver. "Be ready for anything, Dimitri." I initially only tolerated my sister's marriage to Dimitri for her sake. I had always considered blood-born vampires to be weak. But he had quickly proved that notion to be nothing more than archaic thinking. He had risked his life for my sister—something I would never forget.

Enzo, too, considered Dimitri to be one of his most valuable enforcers—a testament to his unwavering loyalty and brutal efficiency. Even if he wasn't as powerful as a made vampire, he had proven himself to be useful—especially as my chauffeur.

I glanced at Dimitri. "You got that? Be ready for anything."

He caught my eye in the rearview mirror, a smirk playing on his lips. "Always ready, boss. It's like my middle name, right after ‘Danger.'"

"By the way, you'll be at dinner this Sunday?"

Dimitri rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh no, I thought I'd skip the weekly family drama for once. Of course we'll be there. Wouldn't miss it for the world…or an apocalypse."

I narrowed my eyes. "See that it stays that way. I need to know that my sister is safe."

Dimitri's expression softened, a mix of love and fierce protectiveness flashing in his eyes. "Come on, Angelo. She's not just your sister—she's my mate. I've already died twice for her. Third time's the charm, right?" His trademark grin returned, but there was an unmistakable intensity behind it. " Besides, I draw the line at unicorn shifters. Too glittery for my taste." He met my gaze in the rearview mirror, all humor gone. "Your sister—my mate—has nothing to worry about. Never has, never will."

"Good." I scanned the grounds. "Stay alert."

He stood next to me as tense as a Doberman pincher ready to attack, but his tone remained light. "Sure thing, Captain Obvious. I'll make sure to keep my vampire senses tuned to ‘paranoid overprotective brother' frequency."

Just then, a sleek gray limousine pulled up next to mine, and the dark Fae announced their presence with a flourish. Despite not being as powerful as the wolves, they still posed a threat to our kind and were a constant annoyance in our territory.

Keir Rankin, king of the dark Fae Mafia, climbed out of his vehicle with a regal air. The moonlight caught his long white hair and reflected off his sharp blue eyes as he glanced over at me. His smile was polite but lacked warmth. "Good to see you again, Santi."

I gave him a brief nod before turning toward the mansion. "Likewise, Rankin. What are you interested in buying tonight?"

He shrugged nonchalantly and adjusted his sleeve carefully. "The usual. Stock is low. You?"

I let out a tired sigh. "The same."

My agenda tonight was clear, if unspoken: acquiring new talent for Crimson Stakes; seeking out artifacts imbued with magic that might restore the stone; and adding to my private collection with art of unparalleled quality.

Simon always put on a lavish event at these exclusive auctions, and only the kings of the supernatural world and their equivalents were invited. I think it made him feel like he was royalty himself. The other kings and I respected this rule and never brought non-royal guests, since Simon had a powerful witch loyal to him in Marsha Cadieux. She had threatened to make the Aeternum Stone go completely dark if the Santi family crossed Simon. And it wasn't just my stone she threatened; Trystan's and Keir's were in danger too. I had briefly considered kidnapping and killing her until I discovered that she would absorb the power of the stones and turn on us with a vengeance. Simon was playing a dangerous game. If Marsha ever left him, he would be at her mercy.

The last limousine to arrive was Maximo Barone's, don of the Barone empire. His family had come over from Italy in the early 1920s. The humans were not a threat to my family. They traded mostly in drug and human trafficking—neither of which threatened my business. Simon treated him like a king, but he would never be one in my eyes.

Keir and I turned our backs on the white limo and headed up the steps to the house. One of Simon's goons opened the door for us.

The warm, golden glow of a crystal chandelier bathed us in its light as we entered the grand dining room. A majestic red-carpeted staircase rose to a second level, where luxurious rooms awaited us in which we could indulge in lustful fantasies. I had partaken in such activities before, but none of the beauties dressed in long gowns caught my fancy tonight, perhaps because I had already been with each of them more than once .

My heightened vampire senses were on overload from all the tantalizing scents in the air—savory dishes, fresh blood, delicate perfumes. As always, Simon had a glass urn filled with Chosen Blood, donated by an elite group of humans who received longer lifetimes in exchange for their gift. It was delicious, but not quite as satisfying as fresh blood.

"Simon has truly outdone himself tonight," Keir murmured beside me.

I nodded, silently taking in the opulent spread of culinary delights before us. Each dish was a testament to New Orleans' rich gastronomic heritage. Towering displays of chilled oysters promised a briny kiss of the sea, while silver platters held succulent crawfish étouffée and tureens contained spicy duck and sausage gumbo. Elegant bowls cradled creamy shrimp and grits, topped with sharp green onion. Meanwhile, golden beignets dusted with powdered sugar beckoned for dessert, along with decadent bananas foster flambéed tableside.

Simon rushed over to us with his arms spread, then bowed slightly. He had on a tuxedo, making him look somewhat like a tall, bearded penguin. "King Keir and King Angelo, welcome to my humble abode."

Though I held the rank of king within the vampire Mafia, it was a mantle I bore with reluctance, unlike the kings of the Fondatori, who reveled in their royal status. My realm was not royal courts but the shadowed corners of New Orleans, overseeing the vampire syndicate far from their prying eyes. Up to now, their gaze had not turned toward the Crescent City, allowing me a certain autonomy within my domain .

Simon gestured toward the long table lined with silver trays and chafing dishes, beckoning us to indulge in the sumptuous spread of hors d'oeuvres. "Take your time," he said with a sly smile. "We won't start the auction for at least an hour. Trust me, I have some truly one-of-a-kind pieces that will capture your interest."

He glanced behind us. "Don Barone, welcome, welcome." He broke away from us and fawned all over Maximo.

A girl brought me over a goblet of Chosen Blood. She lowered her dark head. "Your Majesty."

I rolled my eyes at the salutation, but I didn't correct her. The title did allow me to get what I wanted—especially from Simon.

"Thank you," I said as I accepted the glass.

She offered Keir a goblet filled with a sparkling blue liquid—High Tempest. It was from the Fae's Starlight Kingdom and extremely powerful. One sip would make most humans drunk.

But not vampires.

It only gave us a slight buzz.

I inhaled the mouth-watering scent of a sizzling Wagyu steak. My eyes landed on the Wolf King, Trystan, seated at a table by himself, his fork expertly cutting into the perfectly cooked meat. One of Simon's lovelies stood at his side, a serene look on her heart-shaped face. Trystan's piercing blue eyes narrowed as they landed on me, and for a moment, I thought I heard a low growl rumble from his chest. I knew better than to challenge him here. Not with Marsha's threat of destroying the Aeternum Stone hanging over my head .

I picked up a plate and loaded it up with chilled oysters and a bowl of rice, over which I ladled duck and spicy sausage gumbo. I took a seat next to a window that looked out onto the bayou and turned firmly away from the Wolf King.

A woman with jet-black hair glided toward me, her hips swaying seductively. Her smile was sultry. "My, my, my. Angelo Santi. I've missed you." She nearly purred my name.

I ran my gaze over her and did my best to suppress an annoyed sigh. "Emily. You're looking good."

As much as I loved the taste of Emily Bastion's blood, I didn't want to get caught up with her right now. I had too much on my mind between the auction and the stone.

She lifted my chin with two fingers. "Why don't you forgo your meal and take me upstairs before the fun begins?" Her charms left me flat.

In my peripheral vision, I saw Simon's eyes following her every move. He probably thought if he tempted us not just with lavish food and drinks but with women as well, we would open our wallets for him.

She must have sensed his gaze on her because she leaned in even closer, fluttering her lashes and running her fingers through her hair. As she did so, the soft fabric of her low-cut gown slid off her shoulder, revealing a hint of creamy skin and lace lingerie. My gaze followed the line of her neck until I caught myself and looked away, focusing on my meal instead.

"Not tonight, Emily," I said firmly, trying to ignore the seductive sway of her body as she stood next to me. She threw a worried look at Simon before nervously fidgeting with her napkin.

I glared at Simon, who quickly looked away, then turned back to the temptress. "You should have something to eat and drink," I said with a forced smile, gesturing at the lavish spread on the table. "You look a little pale."

Emily left, pouting, then came back with a plate of chilled oysters and a Greek salad.

"So, tell me, Emily, what kind of surprises does Simon have for us tonight?"

She glanced nervously over her shoulder at Simon, then back to me. "I'm not supposed to say…"

I dabbed my lips. "But it's me. Tell me." I didn't have to use compulsion on her. She was always eager to spill Simon's secrets.

Emily dipped her small fork into the oyster shell and delicately pulled out the meat. She swallowed and then asked, "You want to know about the magical objects Simon plans to auction?"

"Please…Do tell," I said as a waiter drifted in to refill my glass with Chosen Blood, then drifted away again.

She looked around nervously, as if she was afraid someone was listening. "I'm really not supposed to tell, but he has a few objects you may want."

I looked at her over the rim of my wine glass. "Go on."

She licked her lips. "There's the Lumina Pendant, which glows in the presence of magic."

I flashed her an unimpressed look.

When I didn't respond, she tried again. "He also has the Chroniker's Hourglass. It can manipulate small pockets of time. You can use it to go into the future or past."

That definitely sounded useful, but I had no intention of telling Emily. She would go blab to Simon and the bastard would up the price. Once again, I played coy.

"There's also the Vespers Ring." She clasped my hand. "You can walk in the shadows unseen."

I rolled my eyes. "Emily. I can already do that."

She bit her lip. "Oh! There's also the Codex of Eldritch Lore. Simon says it's a rare and ancient tome containing spells and rituals lost to time, written by a coven of witches who vanished under mysterious circumstances. According to him, the book's pages are said to shift and change, revealing their secrets only to those deemed worthy." She was practically reciting the words like a rehearsed sales pitch. Simon had definitely ordered her to find out what I was looking for.

I had heard of the Codex of Eldritch Lore. It could prove useful too. I took another drink from my goblet, but again said nothing.

Her shoulders slumped, as if she was disappointed not to get the response from me she wanted.

"There's also the Eclipsing Mirror. That's a handheld mirror framed in moonstone with the ability to reveal the true nature of anyone or anything reflected in its surface. You can also use it as a portal to a pocket dimension for brief escapes or clandestine meetings."

Something else that might prove useful…very useful…but I didn't even smile.

I leaned back in my chair, the silverware clinking softly against fine china as I set down my fork. The rich aroma of rare steak lingered in the air, a poor substitute for what I truly craved. My voice was low, barely above a whisper, as I asked, "What about the Moirai's Mirror? Has it shown up yet?"

My fingers idly traced the stem of a crystal wine glass filled with a deep red liquid. I had possessed the mirror earlier, but it was stolen from me. The artifact could reveal half-truths of the future, but never the whole picture. It had been invaluable in helping me protect my sister when those mangy wolves had foolishly put a contract on her to get to me.

I suppressed a snarl, not wanting to disturb the quiet atmosphere of the dining room. Simon swore he didn't take it, but I suspected a witch might be involved—possibly even his witch, Marsha. My eyes narrowed as I considered the possibilities, the candlelight casting flickering shadows across my face.

She reached out, her hand shaking, and took a sip of her wine. It seemed to give her courage. "There's one last thing. I heard Simon has a young girl, most likely a virgin. A real fighter." She gave me a devious smile and laughed softly. "Apparently, she's already given Frances a bloody nose."

I cocked my eyebrow. "Really? A heavyweight boxing virgin? Now that sounds intriguing."

Frances was like the madam of Simon's girls and kept them in line. She was very strict with them, and sometimes I wondered if it was her or Simon that punished the girls when punishment was due. I scanned the dining room to see Frances herself waltzing in as if on cue, wearing a scowl as if she had just downed a whole bottle of buttermilk that only added to her surliness. I could see why. She had a fat lip.

She whispered something to Simon, and he slammed his glass of red wine down on the table, spilling its contents onto the white tablecloth.

Something was up.

Was the virgin giving Simon trouble? Fascinating. And I hadn't been fascinated by a woman in a long, long time. Maybe she could be a pleasant distraction from everything that was falling down around my ears.

Yes, I'd definitely buy her. I could use a little fun.