answered, “I’m not allowed outside.”
Eric frowned in annoyance. “That’s a pain.” He turned, sensing the vampire behind him before anyone else did.
Turquoise looked up and recognized the vampire; her mind spun and stalled instantly.
Ravyn glanced at Turquoise and seemed to see the other hunter faltering. With a superb imitation of humility, she asked, “Can I help you, milord?”
Lord Daryl barely paused to look at Ravyn before answering, “You’re dismissed.” Ravyn exited swiftly, her eyes never leaving the vampire. She paused in the doorway and glanced at Turquoise, who nodded minutely, before disappearing into the hall.
“Eric, you have work to do,” Lord Daryl added.
Eric looked at Turquoise for a moment, silent apology clear in his features, but he did not argue with the vampire. With him gone, the room was cleared but for Turquoise and Lord Daryl.
Black, unreadable eyes watched Turquoise as she took in the smallest details of his appearance, remembering vividly how those slender artist’s hands could deliver a beating so severe she had begged forgiveness for whatever imagined or real transgression had set it off. Remembering the sharpness of fang in her throat, the seductive pull of his mind as he drew her blood. And of course, remembering the instant pain of his whip turned on her once in a fit of fury.
“Lord Daryl.” Her voice was so soft even she could hardly hear it.
“Catherine, how nice to find you here,” he greeted, and his tone was polite with an undercurrent of anger, a tone she would have stepped back from had she had anywhere to go. “Imagine my surprise when I saw you with Jaguar earlier.” Without warning, he backhanded her hard enough to send her reeling. “Where have you been?”
Turquoise grasped for her lies, searching for a story she could tell to this creature, but all of her clever tales slipped from her reach. Catherine was not a vampire hunter. She was just a girl, a girl Lord Daryl had abducted and terrorized, a girl with no guile and no defense.
“Never mind,” he snapped when she took too long to respond. “Come here.”
“No,” she replied instantly, backing away toward the kitchen. His black gaze fixed on her in anger, and he grabbed her arm; Turquoise wrenched out of his grip and took another step back. “Don’t touch me.” She could not feign sycophancy, not with Lord Daryl. If he had been any other bloodsucker, she could have played the part of subservient slave, but she did not have the strength to kneel to this beast from her past.
She couldn’t fight back, either. Rationally, she knew that fighting would make it obvious that she was a hunter. Irrationally, every fighting move she had ever learned had disappeared from her head the instant he had touched her.
“Don’t argue with me, Catherine,” he warned.
She stopped backing up. “Don’t call me that.”
“Catherine?” He laughed as he said it. “It’s your name, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Laughter was a good sign—it meant that he was not in the mood to injure. Keeping him in that mood, however, was nearly impossible unless she wanted to beg forgiveness for the last two years of her life.
“Audra,” she answered instead. “I’m going by Audra now. I haven’t been Catherine in years.”
“I really don’t care,” he answered, and this time he grasped her wrist in a grip she could not easily break. “Come here.”
“No,” she snapped, putting all her weight into an open-handed blow to his face. The heel of her palm hit just below the eye hard enough that it would have broken something if it had contacted with human flesh and bone. Four bands of crimson appeared where her nails raked across his skin.
Lord Daryl hit back harder, a reminder that if she wanted to trade punches, he would win. Black spots danced in front of Turquoise’s eyes, and her back hit against the sharp edge of the counter as she tried to avoid falling.
“I’m leaving, Catherine, and you’re coming with me.”
“Don’t you think you should discuss that with me, Daryl?”
The new voice came from the doorway. It was calm, almost a purr, but laced with threat all the same.
Lord Daryl grimaced, glanced back at Turquoise, and offered reluctantly, “I’ll pay you whatever she cost.”
“She isn’t for sale to you.”
“Really?” Lord Daryl asked, voice dangerously level. “Just to me?”
“To anyone,” Jaguar admitted, “but you especially. I happen to be fond of her, and it doesn’t appear that she wants to go with you.”
Turquoise took a step away from Lord Daryl.
“Fond of her, are you?” he whispered, voice low. Jaguar seemed to sense that he had made a mistake; he said nothing, but looked to Turquoise.
“Lord Daryl—”
She didn’t get any further before he struck her across the face hard enough that she stumbled. Before she could even think of defending herself, he had grabbed her by the throat and thrown her against the wall. A gasp of pain came from her throat, along with another attempt at, “Milord, please—”
“And how have you earned his favor, Catherine?” he demanded. “Does the jaguar think you’re
“Milord, I didn’t—”
A sharp kick caught her in the side, once again forcing the air from her lungs.
Yet she was, because she had always done so. “Milord, he didn’t mean—”
The crack of a whip caused her to jump, expecting to feel the leather slice her flesh again; instead, Jaguar’s whip wrapped around Lord Daryl’s throat, drawing blood. Lord Daryl stumbled, and while he was off balance Jaguar untangled the whip. Then he grabbed Lord Daryl’s throat and threw the other vampire against the wall as easily as Lord Daryl had thrown Turquoise.
“You have no right,” Lord Daryl protested, shoving Jaguar away. Jaguar gave ground, but stood between the vampire and Turquoise.
“Right of ownership. Even your twisted little mind can understand that one. Jeshickah paid for her, and then gave her to me. She is my property.” Each word was clipped, spoken coldly, as if he was talking about a pet. Lord Daryl’s eyes narrowed.
“She is not
“And it seems you lost her, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t . . .” Lord Daryl paused, then smiled cruelly, his hand going to the cheek Turquoise had hit and the four quickly healing lines of blood there. “She wounded me. She drew blood, Jaguar. Even if you have ownership, I have claim.”
Turquoise painfully turned her head away, knowing what the outcome of this argument would be. Blood claim was one of the vampires’ highest laws. The blood she had drawn from Lord Daryl entitled him to do with her as he pleased; no other vampire was allowed to interfere if her once-master wished to beat, maim, or kill her.
She thought Jaguar might sigh, or even curse in frustration, but she expected him to give in. After all, there were some laws that none of their kind argued with, and blood claim was one of them.
She expected him to do anything, except what he did.
Jaguar laughed.
Lord Daryl looked shocked for a moment, before Jaguar began to speak.
“You’re foolish enough to call blood claim here?” Turquoise did not understand what he was saying, and from the expression on Lord Daryl’s face, he did not either. Jaguar went on, “Don’t bother complaining that you were weak enough for a human to injure you, because I don’t care. If you want to cower behind those laws, go to New Mayhem and serve the rulers there. Of course, they do have those nasty restrictions against the slave trade, but if you grovel prettily they might not kill you for disobeying.” Lord Daryl nodded slowly, though none of the
