“I see you’ve returned,” he mused.
She came to the edge of the carpet and stopped, bending one knee and lowering her head. “Master Darian.”
He rose, strolling down the stairs and sauntering towards her, his steps dripping with arrogance. She felt a single, pale finger hook under her chin and lift her face up.
“Your missions went well?”
“Yes.”
A wide smile broke out on his face. “You never cease to please me. Rise.”
She stood with her hands folded in front of her. She still barely came up to his shoulders.
Darius watched her with interest. “Care to enjoy the festivities?”
Lucidia glanced to the humans, watching him with longing eyes. No doubt they’d been kissed by him, still riding the narcotic high that a vampire’s kiss causes for humans. She found it disgusting and counted herself lucky that those parlor tricks didn’t work on strongbloods. The more she looked at the weak, fragile victims, the more nausea rose up her throat. “No, thank you.”
“As you wish,” he crooned, studying her one last time before giving a dismissive wave.
She nodded, lowering her head before turning on her heel and walking out the same way she’d arrived.
Lucidia walked briskly to her quarters, which were on the third floor, at the end of the east wing. After being in Darius’s service for so long, and for maintaining such an impressive record, she’d been given a large suite on the good side; a big promotion from her shoe closet in the west wing. She walked past guard after guard, giving them a nod here and there. Her facial expression was always a half-frown, but today, she felt irritated, and scowled deeper than normal.
Nobody bothered her as she closed the large door to her room and threw her bag on the chair. The suite was large, with high, vaulted ceilings. She’d requested it be painted dark purple, but really only cared about the thick blackout curtains which lined each of the windows.
Her massive bed sat opposite her and she eyed it with jealousy before turning to the bathroom.
This room was probably her favorite feature of the luxurious suite. A large shower with four showerheads and deep onyx tiles took up an entire wall. The rest of the expansive space had mosaics of black, white, gray, and purple, complete with wall length mirrors and marble countertops.
She slipped out of her thick boots, her leather pants, and her leather jacket. After wrestling off her athletic shirt, she entered the all-glass shower and turned on the water. Steam accumulated quickly, and she let the water pour over her, closing her eyes and relaxing underneath the scalding shower.
Robin
She couldn’t help but watch his face as he drove the sleek black sportscar to her apartment. This thing purrs, she thought, enjoying every aspect of the ride. He pulled the car onto street parking and then turned, studying her with a glint in his dark eyes.
“Home sweet home,” she murmured with a smile.
“After you.”
She got out of the car, ogling it one more time before facing her building. It was an older one, built straight up, with three apartments on each level and four levels total. Nobody had their lights on. She felt his arm against her back and started forward.
They climbed the stairs, nearly up to the second level when she realized how rash she was acting. She definitely wasn’t thinking with her brain, although he seemed like a nice guy. Charming, goofy. Not exactly serial killer attributes. But things were moving pretty quickly, considering she’d known him for an hour and decided to let him come home with her. A brief flicker of apprehension crossed over her, and she sighed, turning on the stairs.
He nearly knocked her over but stopped in time, rocking forward and then steadying himself. Her hand shot out, pressing on his chest to balance him. Even after he was fine, she let it hang there for a minute.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” she admitted, “but… I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Would my place be better?”
Robin rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I mean… I just, don’t really know anything about you.”
“Ah,” he said with a nod. “I understand completely.”
“Okay, then.” She felt like the biggest loser in the world, turning away this attractive snack, quite literally served up on a silver platter for her. “I’ll call you, okay?”
“May I walk you to your door, mademoiselle?”
She grinned at him. “Sure.”
They went ten steps to the last door in the row and she shrugged. “Alright, here we are.” Robin turned the key and opened the door a crack, turning back to him. “Thank you for the ride, Reykon.”
“Of course.”
“Goodnight, then,” she said begrudgingly.
He glanced around and shrugged his jacket off, laying it on the cement walkway. A moment later, he sat down on it, kicking his feet out and leaning his back against the wrought iron railing. “Goodnight.”
She laughed, a wide smile breaking out on her face. “What are you doing?”
“I’m waiting. Sooner or later, you’ll have to come out, and I plan, at that precise moment, to strike.”
“Strike?” she asked with a smirk.
“Oh yes. I have a signature move that no woman can resist.”
“What’s that?”
He leaned forward, eyes flashing. His voice was an excited whisper. “Breakfast.”
“You’re going to sit out here all night?”
“If that’s what it takes, I’ll sit out here for a year. Tell me, though,” he said, glancing around with mock concern, “is there a bathroom for your conquests to use, or do the others just hold it?”
She scoffed and crossed her arms. “My conquests?”
“Yes, I’m sure you have many.”
“And you’re going to be one of these ‘conquests’?”
He grinned. “Nothing would make me happier.”
Robin sighed and looked at the grinning idiot camped outside of her door. “Are you seriously going to sit here all night?”
“Well, I might lay down,” he admitted.
She rolled her eyes again and let out an amused sigh. “Fine. Come on
