On cue, Samael suddenly slipped into the room, clad in his tuxedo. And from a door directly behind Dracula. Everyone was so transfixed on me that they didn’t seem to have noticed. I didn’t look, keeping my eyes locked on Dracula. Was Samael going to exterminate the vampire before we even had a chance to go sightseeing? Or…
Samael walked up and placed a hand on Dracula’s shoulder. “She looks familiar because you knew her parents.”
Chapter 5
I heard a faint ringing in my ears as the blood rushed to my head. Samael…had betrayed me. Motherfucker. We hadn’t even been here ten minutes! Despite all the contrary evidence and our Blood Bond, I had known deep down that I would never be able to trust him. Even though I was young by most standards, I was old enough to have learned that magic always had a back door, and that our elders loved exploiting them.
And if anyone would know a way around a Blood Bond, it would definitely be one of the a-holes who once broke a sacred bond with God. What confused me was why Samael would go through such an elaborate ruse to get me here if he worked for—or with—Dracula? Surely, he could have found a simpler way.
There was something else going on here.
Dracula didn’t look remotely surprised by Samael’s proximity or affectionate touch. He did look taken aback by Samael’s comment. “Pardon?”
“She is the daughter of Constance and Titus,” Samael explained, not meeting my eyes. “The same Constance who imprisoned me for years.”
“WHAT?” Dracula snarled, his face darkening as he clenched his jaws. “That’s…impossible!”
“You…knew my parents?” I asked Dracula, incredulous.
He just glared back at me for a few moments. Then he rounded on Samael, hissing. “You could have mentioned her at any point in the last year, demon.”
Samael shrugged easily, still ignoring my glare. “I put a year of effort into getting Roland Haviar here, as we agreed. I thought this girl had died soon after I escaped the Seal of Solomon, but she showed up to interrupt my plans with Roland. After seeing her in action—how easily she defeated Roland—I believe she may even be better than our original plan.” Dracula turned to appraise me thoughtfully, looking entirely too curious. “So I adapted, presuming you might be interested in such a serendipitous catch,” he said in a low, crisp tone. “And remember this—you are not my master. We are allies. Equals at best.”
Dracula grunted dismissively, but I could practically feel the tension in the air—neither man was pleased about their shared position of authority. Men always had to know who was alpha, otherwise they were totally helpless. “It looks more like you wasted a year and are trying to overcompensate for your failure,” Dracula finally muttered. “She’s not even a vampire. And Roland is still breathing. A nuisance I must deal with after…” he glanced over at me disgustedly, flicking a hand, “I tire of this one.”
Samael reached over to pour himself a goblet of wine. “I believe I know a way around that,” he said with a dark smile. “Did I mention that she was also Roland’s student back when he was a Vatican Shepherd? In fact, she is the one who stopped your attack on Rome a few years ago—when you tried to cast the Shepherds into civil war. Perhaps fresh blood is exactly what we need.”
I was too busy trying to figure out what nefarious plan they were talking about to be scared. Samael was a demon, and wouldn’t do anything that didn’t benefit himself in some way. So, was he playing both sides against the middle just for fun or had he already picked his side? Was I a pawn or a secret weapon?
Upon hearing about my history with Roland and the Sanguine Council, Dracula had grown entirely too interested. “Well…” he said thoughtfully. Then a slow smile stretched across his face. “Would you like to work with me, girl?”
I grunted. “I don’t suck on command.”
His smile evaporated. “So be it—”
“You lied to me, Sammy,” I interrupted him, turning to Samael. “We should probably talk about that when the little guy goes down for his nap when the sun rises,” I said, jerking a thumb at Dracula.
Samael sipped his wine, shrugging unconcernedly. “Demon,” he admitted, implying that I should have known better and that I was an idiot for ever trusting him in the first place.
I nodded my agreement, lifting up my hand to inspect the Seal of Solomon in the light. “I almost forgot.”
Samael’s shoulders tightened infinitesimally, but he retained enough of his composure to smirk at me. “And there is no sunlight here. Of course.”
Motherfucker.
I turned back to Dracula, disappointed to find him so carefully composed after my blatant disrespect. It was also apparent that my attitude had succeeded in turning him away from Samael’s suggestion—that I was a better candidate than Roland for their grand plan, whatever that was.
I hadn’t come here for games, though. I’d come here to kill this bastard, and for that, I needed him on edge. Before Samael convinced him to go along with whatever his scheme was.
I thought about how Dracula had reacted when Samael had mentioned my parents, and a wicked smile split my cheeks. Perfect. “My mother rejected you, didn’t she? Turned you down for a Nephilim. Broke your little heart,” I said, chuckling.
Dracula flashed his fangs at me. “Your mother managed to wound my Beast. Blinded her before narrowly escaping. My Beast has a long memory. Maybe you can talk with her…when I go down for my nap,” he said, smirking icily. “Oh, that’s right. I don’t have to nap here at the seat of my power.”
I kept my face composed, but my heart had skipped a beat. My mother had done the fuck what to his Beast? Good god.
“I can’t say I’m surprised,” I lied. “Your Beast doesn’t seem very dangerous. Look at us, hanging out here like old friends. No one dying…” I trailed off meaningfully. “Maybe she can’t see us.”
Dracula snarled, and the air seemed to grow thicker as I felt the Beast focus on me, specifically, but…nothing else happened. Well, the skeletons grew agitated, their sharpened bones or grafted blades rasping as they rattled against their other bones. As the seconds continued to stretch on, I realized my theory was correct. Dracula…
Couldn’t unleash his Beast on me—I was already inside. If I had been outside, threatening it directly, it could have hurt me. But attacking something within you was much more difficult. Maybe the Beast could make the floor drop out from under me or something, but that would put Dracula at risk, too. I wasn’t sure if I was entirely correct, but I was close enough.
Or else the Beast would have killed me.
I lifted my arms, chuckling blatantly. “You’re an empty legend, Dracula. A hollow hero. An empty nightmare. Your Beast keeps things out, but she’s impotent to protect you from things already inside.”
Silence rang out, and I even noticed Samael staring at me incredulously.
I leaned forward to speak in a loud, theatrical whisper. “And I’m deep inside you, Dracula…” I taunted mercilessly, mentally recalling everything his kind had ever done to bring me pain—murdering innocents, bringing terror to my city, almost breaking the Shepherds in Rome, and turning Roland into a vampire.