And if I thought she was angry before…
“You fucking Bram Stoker fanboy little bitch!”
My brows lift at her insult while Vuitton chuckles himself into a howl from across the room. His laughter distracts me for only half of a heartbeat, but her arms are around my knees in less than that time, and I can’t catch myself as she hurtles me to the floor. She climbs my body like I’ve envisioned Kyra doing so, so many times before. I can’t help but react with a repressed groan as her legs straddle my hips, lifting the hem of her evening dress up her beautiful, pale thighs. My dick is still throwing a lone celebration until I see the sunlight glinting off of a sharp metal blade. The large kitchen knife in her palm is a misplaced item that I can’t even process her holding.
“Where did you get that?” I continue to ask curiously as she presses the length of it against my throat.
“Where was she hiding it?” Vuitton asks with a bit too much awe in his voice.
My hand lifts and I run my index finger along the sleek metal handle, tracing her knuckles as I go.
Her elbow flings back and the hard end of the weapon jabs into my mouth. An ashy taste of blood washes over my tongue and I fucking hate it! Vampire blood isn’t pumped and cared for as vigorously as human blood is.
It’s the closest thing to feeding on a corpse as there is. That’s why it’s like slowly dying as we age. Even a sunburn could scar us for life.
But we try not to say too much about that around the humans.
“Do not.” I take a deep breath but it’s not enough to calm me. “Ever. Strike me.” Every muscle in my body tenses as I control the urge to flip her on her back and bury my head in the soft crook of her neck, just to drain her dry. “Let’s ah… let’s all calm down now,” Vuitton says carefully from just behind the mad woman.
I notice neither him nor Louis actually removes the rabid human girl off of me. Real friends, through and through.
Kira’s lips curl as she looks down on me for another long second. Then she flings her leg around and she’s on her feet, striding away from me in the heels she couldn’t even balance in just moments ago. The nice curves of her hips sway along with the dress. Her long blonde hair wafts in the air behind her as she storms off.
She’s undeniably sexy now.
Confidence. And Anger. That’s the key to fooling people. Nothing could make her fit in more like blazing rage and a fiery ego.
So maybe, just maybe, she could pass as my mistress.
Or maybe she’ll get us all killed.
Only time will tell.
Six
Kira
“Never question yourself. Do not ask if you can or cannot do something. You’re a high council member. Number Six, to be exact. You have one superior, and she’s honestly never around to check up on if you’re Kyra or Kira. So just act like you’re above everyone and everything and you’ll do fine,” Prey explains with a wave of his hand.
“So the other five. What are their names?”
“Five?” He arches a dark eyebrow at me.
“You said I’m number six. If I’m Kyra, it might benefit me to know the names of my coworkers.”
“Council members. You don’t have coworkers.”
My jaw grinds as I sit lazily on the couch with my legs tucked beneath me, trying hard not to show my ass in this obnoxious dress.
“And their names are?”
Prey’s eye twitches.
Who the hell assigned this asshole to be my sister’s assistant? What does he even assist with? Continuous migraines? Permanent pains to the ass? The urge to dick punch him every eight and a half seconds?
“Croft one, Zavia Laurent. Born in Lille France when the city was just conquered and claimed. She is your leader, your Council Queen, and she will not bother to even look at you. Take comfort in being too far beneath her list of priorities.”
There’s a notebook on the coffee table, I fling it open and I’m scribbling her facts on a blank page, even as he starts on with the next member.
“Croft two, Pavel.” Prey visibly shivers just saying that name, but he doesn’t let it delay his spew of information. “Pavel is an elder, and second in command. He—” Apparently this vampire isn’t among Prey’s favorites. “As vampires age, they…” his head tilts this way and that. “They do age. And… it shows.”
He seems to shake those morbid thoughts away.
“Croft Three,” he continues.
But my line on Pavel is nearly blank. I’ve learned almost nothing about the man. He’s the second in command, and he’s elderly. That’s it.
“Wait. You didn’t even give me a back story on Pavel. What’s his last name? His history? Anything would help.” I know from work as an independent investigator that the devil is always in the details. Even if I was just tracking cheating husbands instead of deadly vampires.
“His last name.” Prey pushes his hand down his face as if he could just wipe away his annoyance.
He clearly can’t.
“If Pavel could remember that far back, I’d give you his last name. I’d give you a cute little how he was made backstory. But Pavel is old. He’s… literally ancient. And he doesn’t remember tedious details like his last name.” The vampire sighs a long and drawn-out sound of irritation.
“Croft Three,” he says once again and instead of pressing him for more, I move on to the next line. “Rival Royale.”
A snort I can’t repress shakes through me, but Vuitton is the only one who joins in with my snickering.
Prey simply arches one of his e-boy eyebrows.
“He made that name up, right?” I’m still smiling hard. Prey’s just tries glowering harder.
Okay. Noted. Not made up.
“Rival is the advisor and speaker of the council. You will be in contact with him the most. He and I arranged for your role in the absence
