Chapter 20

T he secret shortcut happened to be a series of passages in the walls. According to Ezekiel, he’d had them commissioned when he’d had Dracmore built. One of his first residences, Dracmore had been donated to the houses to use as neutral ground for political gatherings.

He moved fast, and I had to trot to keep up with his pace. The passage ended abruptly in a strange recess in the wall. Large enough to be a door. Ezekiel held out his hand, and I took it, noting how dry and cold it was. He pressed his other hand to the recess, and the bricks lit up with strange symbols. There was a click and a hiss, and the space swung open into his quarters.

We’d entered from behind the huge painting of Ezekiel that dominated the southern wall.

“No one knows about the passages,” he assured me. “And even if they did, they can’t enter this room through that painting unless I’m touching them.” He hurried to the bedroom. “Wait here.”

I heard water splashing, and a few minutes later he returned, face clean of blood, hair damp and raked back off his face.

“Ezekiel, what the fuck just happened?”

“It’s called a bonding feast. A willing human sacrifice that leaders share to affirm their allegiance to one another. It’s an ancient ritual. One we haven’t practiced in centuries.” Willing? Regina had agreed to this? “Constrange was either trying to ingratiate himself to me or use my hunger as a weapon against me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bonding sacrifices are infused with certain mind-altering substances.”

“Drugs?”

“Yes, you could call them that.”

“Shit. But you’re okay, right?”

“I’m fine. But my hunger has been teased, and I’m afraid I overestimated my ability to control it.”

“You controlled it just fine. You stopped, and you didn’t drain her.”

“I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to continue feeding. I wanted to consume every last drop.”

“Then why…Why did you stop?”

His eyes flinched. “Decisions made while mentally inebriated aren’t always wise, and I wager they wanted to catch me off guard.”

No…that wasn’t all of it. There was more. I could feel it. “And that’s the only reason you stopped?”

His eyes narrowed. “What other reason would there be?”

Me. The other reason could be me. That he’d heard my plea and listened. But saying it, even in my head, sounded arrogant, so I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “I have no idea.”

His shoulders dropped slightly, the challenge in his expression melting away. “You’re not safe here. Not anymore. You’ll leave before dawn and?—”

“I’m not leaving you to face Darage alone.”

“Dammit, woman, there will be no one to protect you once I’m drained, and that amulet will hold no meaning once Darage is in power.”

“What? No. You won’t lose.”

He sighed, eyes slipping closed for a beat. “As much as I appreciate your vote of confidence, the odds are very much against me. Darage is an ancient, almost as old as Laudon and me. He hails from a powerful bloodline in its own right. He has not been weakened by a spectral attack and stripped of his psychic power or left to hunger.”

“You tried to compel the vampires in the dining room, didn’t you? But it didn’t work on all of them.”

“Yes. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have tried. Now they all know how weak I truly am. The Certamina pro throno is an ancient rite to challenge the monarch that was woven into the oaths centuries ago.

“Why would you allow them to add that?”

“To prove I was the most powerful.”

Dammit, the arrogance. Where was it now? “Then beat him!”

His gaze softened. “If I had a few days, I could heal and feed. But we do not have that time. And no doubt Darage has been preparing for this for decades. Godor will deliver you back to Branwood and return for my body.” His gaze fell to my lips then lifted to meet mine. “I regret that we did not get our full year, Miss Lighthart, and I doubt that I will find such a delightful watcher when I next wake, but I assure you, I will reclaim my seat at my next rising.”

That was it? He was giving up? No…He wasn’t. He thought this was a temporary setback, that he could get his power back next century because this wasn’t the first time that he’d been knocked on his ass, but he didn’t know…He didn’t fucking know it was his last chance to beat his curse.

I had to do something to help him. To give him the strength needed to win this fight. My stomach dipped, registering the truth of what I’d have to do before my conscious mind acknowledged it.

Dammit. “Feed from me.”

His eyes flinched, mouth parting in surprise. “What?”

“Take as much as you need, but don’t you dare drain me.”

He scanned my face. “You’re offering me your blood?”

I did not want to do this but… “Will it be enough?”

He licked his lips, nostrils flaring. “You’re blessed, and your blood is potent, more so than any I have ever tasted. Yes. It will be enough.”

There was no way he hadn’t considered it himself. “Then why didn’t you just ask me for it?”

“Would you have agreed?”

I studied him for several beats, unable to read him. Had I just been manipulated? Even if I had, did it matter? The goal was to keep him on his feet.

I tugged off my amulet before I could change my mind, stomach quivering with nerves. “Just do it. Then you’ll have the rest of the night and day to recharge, and so will I.”

“In that case, we should move into the bedchamber.”

“Um…not likely.”

“It’s best if you’re lying down, Miss Lighthart.”

Maybe it was the formal address or maybe it was the nervous tic in his jaw that convinced me to oblige.

“Fine, but no funny business.” I led the way toward the bedroom, stomach filled with gnarly knots.

He trailed after me. “No funny business. Not unless you demand it.”

My cheeks heated. “I won’t.”

“Then there is nothing for you to be concerned about.”

The bedroom felt smaller with him in it. The bed, which had seemed huge, felt tiny as I climbed up onto it. He closed the door, leaving us in lamplight, shrugged off his waistcoat, then unbuttoned his shirt.

“Take off your clothes,” he said. “Unless you want to get blood on them.”

The thought of being skin to skin with him made me ache in a way it shouldn’t, which irritated the fuck out of me. “I’m fine. You should keep yours on too. You can always get it washed.”

“Blood stains do not come out easily from this fabric.”

“Seriously?”

He slipped off his shirt. “Does my body offend you?” He opened his arms slightly, offering me an excellent view of his broad shoulders and tapered waist. His pectorals were firm and flat, and he looked like he did crunches for a living because his abs were like cobbles.

I wanted to touch him. “Yeah, put the shirt back on.”

His smile said he suspected exactly what I was thinking. “As you wish.” He slipped his shirt on and did up a few buttons to hold it in place before indicating the bed.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I kicked off my shoes before climbing up and lying on my back. “I feel like I’m here for a physical.” Why had I said that?

The bed dipped as he joined me, and it was suddenly harder to breathe.

“Relax,” he crooned.

I didn’t like this slowly, slowly, bullshit. We were here to get a job done. “Let’s just get on with it.”

My pulse lurched as he hovered over me, skin singing when his fingers brushed it to move my hair to one side. His eyes were like the glowing embers of a dying fire, warm and sleepy as they dropped to my neck.

“Ah, so eager.” He pressed his thumb to my thrumming pulse and inhaled. “So potent.”

“Just bite me already,” I snapped.

“Very well. This will hurt…at first. But then you might have the desire to touch me. You have my permission to do so.”

“Thanks, but no?—”

His head whipped forward, and needles pierced my neck.

I screamed as fire burned a path down my throat. He covered my mouth with his hand, stifling my sobs as he sucked hard, releasing my blood into his mouth in gulps of agony.

Hot tears burned my eyes, blurring the patterned ceiling. I thrashed, survival instincts driving me to be free, but in the next moment the pain ebbed, and liquid heat filtered through my veins, wrapping around my throat then sweeping down to coalesce at the peaks of my breasts before skimming down to settle between my thighs in an insistent, ravenous throb that demanded attention. I moaned against his palm, tongue flicking out to taste the salt on his skin, hand clawing at his biceps, fingers digging into the taut flesh not to push him away but to bring him closer. My body was a mass of sensations, shivers, and pulses that begged to be explored, and my head swam with carnal images desperate to be enacted.

His hand slipped from my mouth, thumb lingering on my bottom lip. I turned my head to capture it, sucking on it with a moan.

His body slid over me, hip to hip, pressing down, even as he continued to devour me. My breath shallowed, heart fluttering. Was this death? Why wasn’t I afraid?

I sank my fingers into his silken hair and made a fist, holding him to me as my hips rocked against him and an orgasm built.

“Please, please, please.”

His growl vibrated against me, and the next moment his bloody mouth was on mine, tongue deep and starved as he claimed the heat within. The shock of his lips, firm yet pliant on mine, the taste of him, cinnamon tinged with the sweet iron of my blood, pushed me over the edge. He swallowed my moan as my body shook with release, tears leaking down my cheeks. He kissed me, over and over, sucking on my tongue, gnawing on my lips, fangs nicking me and leaving me bloody, raw, and desperate for more, until my head swam and my vision darkened.

He broke the kiss with a curse and returned his mouth on my neck to lick and lap.

“Orina? Orina, can you hear me?”

“Mmmm…” I was drowning. Falling deep into an abyss.

“Fuck. Drink.”

Blood on my lips. In my mouth. I didn’t want it. I didn’t?—

“Drink, dammit!”

I swallowed once, twice, and then darkness claimed me.

It was still dark when I woke, but my gut told me that much time had passed. Ezekiel was gone, leaving me tucked up in his bed. I needed to find him, but he’d been explicit about not leaving our quarters at night without him.

I pulled off the remnants of the dress and changed into my regular clothes, slipped my amulet back on, and hurried out into the sitting room, to find Godor waiting by the main doors in a crouch.

“Where is he?”

“To the Certamina pro throno. ”

“Take me to him.”

“Master has said Godor must take you to Branwood.”

Of course he did. “I’m not leaving without him.”

His dark eyes gleamed with approval, but his words let me down again. “Godor must follow Master’s instructions.”

I bit back my exasperation, knowing that I wouldn’t get to Ezekiel without the bat boy’s help. “You helped me escape his dungeons against his wishes.”

“Godor did not.”

Oh hell, we were not playing this denial game. “Yes. You did.”

“Master did not say that Godor could not help you escape the dungeons. Godor did not go against any wishes.”

“Semantics, huh? Well, did he say I couldn’t go see him in the Certamina pro throno ?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “No.”

“And did he explicitly say when I had to return to Branwood?”

It was hard to tell, what with his bat features, but I was sure Godor was smiling now. “Master did not.”

“Then I can leave after the Certamina pro throno . I need to be there. Everyone here wants something from him that they can only get if he loses. He needs someone there rooting for him to win. Please take me to him.”

Godor’s chest puffed up. “Yes. Godor will take you. Godor and the others will bear witness for Master to win.”

“Thank you!”

“We must hurry. It might have already begun.”

This time, I made sure to grab my blade before leaving the room.