When we cross the threshold of the doors, Rival’s palm burns down the opening of my dress and his touch across my skin nearly makes me stumble. There’s a clatter of heels and a gasp of air as I teeter uncertainly.
Then, just before I fall, he’s pushing me against the wall, staggering my steps even more in a loud clattering of noise. Cold stone scrapes my spine as his warm hands cover the small of my back before the softest lips press desperately over mine.
And just like that, my messy fall is turned into a messy, confusing, conflicting, all-consuming kiss.
The petite and polite sound of someone clearing their throat drags Rival away from me. My thoughts blot back into my lust-filled mind once more, and I have to try hard to appear like I’m not sedated by his simple allure.
“You may have missed her, but you don’t have to be rude, Royale,” a woman says with a soft laugh warming her words.
She’s an enchanting vision of perfection. Ruby red lips are full against her bright white teeth with two sharp points pressing down along her bottom lip. Her dark brown eyes are somehow glimmering in the glowing yellow lighting. The emerald dress she wears flares daintily around her smooth thighs.
There isn’t a single flaw to be seen on her slender frame.
Not one… aside from a faint splatter of blood against her chin.
I smooth my dress and try to think of what my sister would do in this situation. No, not my sister. The sister I knew would have laughed loudly and charmed this vampire den like it was a frat party.
So what would a spy do? What would I do?
My chin lifts higher, and I slip past Rival with our chests brushing lightly, my palm smoothing down his sleek black tie as I go.
“Acessa,” I say her name in greeting like it’s honey flowing over my tongue. I try not to look her in the eye as I pass, not out of fear, but I give my best to just breeze through the room like it’s been my home for the last two years and not just the last two minutes.
Two men lean against the wall, both of whom are missing shirts, and one of whom doesn’t seem to be aware that his pants are unzipped all the way down. Both are in a daze, staring forward with hooded eyes that seem to see absolutely nothing.
I ignore both of them as well while I casually step over their legs to make my way to the table.
Without question, I take the chilled red wine from the long dining room table. It’s hard to keep my pulse calm as I pour a meager amount into a crystal glass.
I can’t focus on anything. Everything feels much too important, and yet I have to seem aloof to it all. My hands settle on the table and I push up to slide myself on the edge, crossing my legs as I sit carelessly before the three of them.
Rival arches a dark eyebrow at my perch. Acessa keeps her beautiful smile in place. Prey catches my eye, and there’s a slight gleam there. His smirk is a cutting thing, and it feels testing but prideful all at once.
“How was Milan?” The woman asks with her big curious eyes.
I buy myself some time to think by taking a sip of wine.
My tongue curls back from the liquid the very second it touches my lips. The thickness of it alone is enough to turn my stomach.
Because it’s not wine.
It’s cold blood.
Oh my God, is it their blood? My eyes dart to the two shirtless men. So many thoughts race through my mind: Spit it out! No! Swallow that shit! Swa-llow. It!
I have to sit here and freeze this fucking charming smile in place as the chilled blood soaks into my tongue like battery acid on a sponge.
Until I’m finally able to swallow it down.
My throat constricts. My lips curl within the plaster of a smile I hold in place, and it nearly comes out my fucking nose as I hold in my cough.
Never once does my smile fall.
Acessa waits patiently and enthusiastically for my reply the entire goddamn time.
“Beautiful. As. Aa-always,” I grunt out, trying hard for effortless poise, but sounding more like an alley cat with a bad coke problem instead.
The snorting sound of Prey’s laughter shakes through the room, but Acessa and I continue to smile pleasantly at one another.
“Ah, I wish I could go. I do wish I can leave our home soon.” She keeps chatting while I flash my attention to Rival, who just looks as impassive as ever.
Why don’t all the vampires leave this place?
“How was Markin and the European den?” Acessa asks.
Ah… yes. Markin. And the other Euros… Um. Well...
Fuck.
“He was the same old Markin,” I give a little insider-joking-laugh at the end of that vague little remark and thank the ever-loving fuck that Acessa laughs along with me.
Prey snorts annoyingly once more, and I want nothing more than to break his nose so he never gets to make that arrogant sound again.
Why the hell did no one brief me on absolutely anything besides shoes, posture and handbags?
“Do you want to rest, Darling?” Rival asks so intimately I nearly blush.
I can’t do that. Nope. I can not allow blood flow to rush anywhere, north or south. None. Can’t do it.
I dip my head low and sweep my sweating palm across my cheeks in an attempt to steal away the warmth
