Marked: A Vampire Blood Courtesans Romance (5 page)

His gaze dipped to the hollow of my throat, a flicker of hunger illuminating his eyes before it vanished a heartbeat later. “Madam da Silva acquired a last minute ticket for me. She assured me that this event would be worth my company’s time.”

“Make a donation to a charitable event, and your business gets all the press.”

“Indeed.”

“And have you chosen a specific courtesan then?”

He paused for a moment. “Ah. No.”

“That’s right. You don’t ever bid on the courtesans.”

Surprise flashed across his face. “You inquired about me?”

“Not exactly.” Embarrassment spread across my cheeks in a hot flush.

Ethen drew in a slow breath, his pupils dilating to a near slit. The sight of it rendered me speechless. I’d never seen a vampire caught amidst his hunger before.

I forced myself to hold still. “Are you all right?”

His throat trembled when he swallowed, but, with obvious effort, he tore his gaze away from my throat and focused across the room. “Forgive me. That was rude, and, unfortunately, a side effect of being a vampire.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I teased, even though my heart gave a hard kick.

“If you’ll excuse me.”

We stared at each other for a long moment before he turned and strode away from me for the second time that night.

Chapter 5

A dull tap on a microphone roused the room’s attention.

The conversation between myself and another vamp, whose name I’d already forgotten, died down, and we turned toward the lush, red-lined podium. Madam da Silva stood under the spotlight, her cheeks a little flushed and her eyes glazed. Curious, I glanced over at Ashley with an arched brow, who met my silent question with a bashful smile. Had some vamp sampled the madam? My wide gaze cut back to her, my mouth parted in shock. Guess she who created the rules had the right to abuse them…

Clearing her throat, she tapped the microphone once more, then leaned forward and spoke in a seductive purr. “The bids are now closed. Ladies, if you’d please?”

We watched in shared silence as three impeccably dressed assistants strode toward the stage with the bidding sheets in hand. Throughout the night, I’d debated stealing a peek at my own. Some of the other courtesans had, and I’d watched as they’d sought out their highest contender's competition and encouraged them to up the price as a means of sparking a bidding war.

Me? I was petrified. I didn’t want to know whose name rode the top of the list, nor did I wish to spark any sort of battle between two vampires. All I wanted was to get in and out with the money in hand and my life intact.

“Here goes,” a nearby vampire commented to his neighbor.

“Who’d you bid on?”

“Ms. Elizabeth,” the first responded. “She and I go way back. You?”

“Christine.”

I nibbled on the inside of my lip. Once the sheets were passed over to the madam, her assistants glided back through the crowd, their faces radiant. Might they have partaken in all the shadow world had to offer as well? The thought made my blood run cold. I didn’t want to turn into one of them, didn’t want to become bite-addled and addicted to a pair of fangs.

“They seem content,” I murmured to the pair of vamps.

Quiet laughter rolled off their lips. “I’m sure they are.”

“What do you mean?”

The closest vamp leaned in, his voice low. “Look around. Do you see any wine glasses full of blood?”

I hadn’t actually thought to look, but now that he mentioned it, I saw there weren’t.

“The courtesans are not to be touched without a contract. But the assistants? They have a job to perform, and sometimes we get hungry.”

My stomach twisted at the thought. The assistants were the hors d'oeuvres, in a manner of speaking. Straight from the tap. Not bite-addled then, but rather, paid to provide a hot vein.

As for the madam, she made her way back toward the microphone and cast one more dazzling grin before flipping through the sheaves of paper. “Well my, my. I must say, these are quite the bids. Ladies, you’ve certainly outdone yourselves tonight.”

A smattering of amused chuckles rose from the crowd. I glanced at Ashley once more only to find my attention instead drawn by a dark shadow hovering near the edge of the party.

Ethen
.

For someone who refused to bid on courtesans, his attention seemed riveted on the madam. I wondered if he was the one who had put that smile on her face, but then decided against it. Breaking the rules didn’t seem to be his forte. If it were, he wouldn’t have stepped into the fray to protect me from Luke.

Or maybe I was just hoping for the best? There was something comforting about meeting
one
vampire with morals after the past few nights I’d had. Surely, there were more out there, somewhere.

“Let’s get down to business then, shall we?” the madam continued, her sultry voice dragging me out of my reverie. “Now then. Mr. Trenton Abbott has won the hand of Ms. Ashley Cooke.”

This time, I did glance at Ashley, relieved to find a triumphant glow upon her face. After a slight curtsey, she moved seamlessly through the masses until she stood next to her client, a shy smile tugging at her lips. I took note of her movements, prepared to do the same.

One-by-one, I watched other the courtesans pair off, and, with each shuffle of paper, my heart beat an erratic rhythm in my chest. Every now and then, a vamp shot me an annoyed glance, as though my nerves disturbed them. I managed to resist poking out my tongue. Seemed unwise.

Madam da Silva neared the ends of the sheets, and my pulse gave another hard knock. Worry gnawed at me. What if no one had bid on me? What if my performance tonight had been lacking? And did I care? Vacillating between anxiety and disappointment, I startled when the madam’s eyes cut across the crowd to me.

“And lastly, our top grossing bid for the night goes to our newest courtesan, Ms. Amelia Winter, who was won by…”

I sucked in a deep breath as I waited for the other shoe to drop.
God
, the madam knew how to pander to an eager crowd. She held my gaze, a grin crooking at the corners like a hungry bobcat about to pounce. She had to know what the anticipation was doing to me, but she kept quiet until the masses began to grow restless.

Honestly, I didn’t care who had won the contract, so long as it wasn’t Luke. I didn’t want his fangs anywhere near my throat or any other part of my body.

Finally, she winked at me and turned back to the crowd. “Mr. Ethen Rune.”

A collective gasp rang through the room. Without hesitation, my eyes fluttered shut, and my shoulders rounded with relief. Odd that his name drew such a reaction from me, but the man intrigued me. And for the first time since entering my apartment to find Calix draining the life from Tessa, I wasn’t afraid.

I drew in a deep breath, opened my eyes, and began the long walk to Ethen’s side, mindful that everyone was watching me. I lifted my skirts so as not to trip and navigated the masses, grateful when a path finally cleared for me. It wasn’t until I reached the table he’d been standing next to that I glanced up and met his gaze. He leaned against the nearest wall, arms crossed over his chest as he observed my approach, but it was the look in his eyes that made me shudder, the indefinable darkness that swelled within them.

Maybe I wasn’t so safe with him, after all.

***

Most of the drive to his house passed in silence. Awkward, to say the least. Now and then, I stole a glance in his direction and studied his strong profile. From this angle, his long nose gave him a regal appearance. Of course, every time I stole a gander, his grip tightened on the steering wheel. If he squeezed any harder, I feared the leather would pop its stitches.

“So, where do you live?”

He turned and blinked at me, as though shocked I’d speak to him. “Astor Street,” he finally responded in a deep voice.

In the sanctity of his car, without the roar of other voices and laughter, I noticed a hint of an accent. Old world, but faint. “Nice neighborhood,” I commented. Nothing like horrible small talk to make an already awkward moment unbearable.

Astor Street wasn’t
just
a nice neighborhood. It was a part of the Gold Coast, an affluent district that had always felt a bit…out of my league. But thankfully, Astor Street was only minutes from the Palmer House, which meant the silence wouldn’t last much longer.

I had so many questions, none of which I braved asking. The one burning in the back of mind was why he’d participated in the auction tonight.
Everyone
had conveyed their shock and awe in some fashion when the great Ethen Rune’s name had been announced. I wanted to know what had changed his mind. Why me? And why so much money? I hadn’t the final figures yet, but for it to have been the top grossing contract, I had to imagine pockets had been emptied.

Not to mention, I didn’t get the feel that he even liked me. The moment Madam da Silva had stepped off the stage, he’d jerked his head toward the door and strode out without so much as a backward glance. Though his behavior had pissed me off, I’d grabbed my bag and did as expected, barely making it out in time to slide into his Rolls-Royce before he sped off without me.

Glancing out the window, I struggled with what to say. Offer some encouragement? Thank him, perhaps? But neither felt right. He was the one who had chosen to bid. Had he not, someone else would have likely stepped in. Funny how now I was confident of that. The only thing I appreciated was that I was free from Luke; though, at this point, I didn’t even know if he’d bid on me. With how quickly Ethen had beat his retreat, I hadn’t managed a glimpse at the paperwork.

Ethen cleared his throat and straightened in his seat. “Madam da Silva will contact us tomorrow to finalize the details.”

My head bobbed, but I continued to stare out the passenger side window, watching as the coastline whisked by.

“She will email over a contract for us both to sign.”

This time, I did brave another glance in his direction. For a worldly vampire, he certainly seemed out of his element. His pinched mouth spoke volumes.

“A room has been put together for you.”

I crooked a brow in the darkness. “So quickly?” When had he made the call? On the way to the car?

“My staff is competent. I do not abide foolishness or laziness.”

Sure. Who does?

“Ms. Doyle will be there to see to all your needs, should any arise.”

“Ms. Doyle?”

“My housekeeper.”

Well, la-dee-dah. High living, indeed. “Ah. Well, thank you.”

Another stiff grumble, except this time, he reached up and ran an agitated hand through his once-impeccable hair, whipping it up until it stood on end. My mouth quirked, though I said nothing. I didn’t know this man, but it seemed doubtful that he was often so uncomfortable. And as much as I wanted to delve into his insecurities, I had a feeling my questions would be about as welcome as a hollow blade through his eye.

So, instead, we relapsed into silence, and I returned to staring out the window.

It wasn’t long before he turned onto Astor and pulled up in front of what I assumed was his house. The gated entrance was sealed. He parked the car and opened his door, slipping into the night. I leaned forward and caught a glimpse of another figure unfolding from the shadows. The two men exchanged the keys and then seconds later, my door popped open, and a pale hand extended toward me.

“Shall we?”

Holy crickets
. I knew vampires moved fast, but, of course, I’d never witnessed that talent firsthand before. Swallowing, I slid my palm over Ethen’s, failing to tamp back the shiver that rippled down my spine. I’d expected a brush of cold skin, anything that suggested vampire, but his hand was warm, and firm, and curved around mine. I found myself wondering how his fingers would feel caressing my body. It was inevitable, after all. What I found shocking was the intoxicating rush of desire uncurling in the pit of my stomach. I
wanted
to know how it would feel to be touched and explored by him…and that frightened me more than the vampire standing before me.

He helped me out of the car, then stood back and waited as I rearranged my dress. Thankfully, it had survived the quick drive through the city unwrinkled.

“Leave your bag.” His voice deeper now, seductive almost. “Ms. Doyle will see to it for you.”

I caught my bottom lip between my teeth and glanced back at my bag. The truth was, I didn’t want to leave it behind. Some of the articles within were for my eyes only. If Ms. Doyle unpacked my belongings, she’d find an unexpected prize in the form of my ancient dagger. I couldn’t imagine Ethen would appreciate me bringing a lethal weapon into his home.

But if I objected, it would lead to more questions. So, instead, I took a leap of faith and followed Ethen toward the gate. It swung open upon our approach, and a quick glance revealed a modern surveillance camera in the corner of his porch.

“Get a lot of vandalism here on the Gold Coast?” I asked in a dry tone.

His gaze followed mine, his brows furrowing the moment he caught sight of the red light. “I maintain tight security. You can never be too careful when you’re a vampire.”

“Funny, I would have thought it the opposite.”

“Even we have our enemies.”

I winced. His voice held a note of sadness. Slayers weren’t common, but there were enough in the city to monitor the more dangerous vamps. There wasn’t a night I could remember when my brothers weren’t out hunting for some monster.

For years, I’d listened to my brothers as they regaled me with tales of their epic battles. When I was younger, I’d clung to their legs and begged for more. They were the real-life heroes, rushing off to slay the proverbial beasts. I’d matured since then, perhaps grown a little disenchanted with the idea.

“I do not entertain often,” Ethen commented. “This is my personal home, purchased as a sort of safe haven. Many vampires choose to live in shared accommodations as a type of coven. I do not. I prefer my solitude.”

“Must be lonely,” I murmured more to myself than him. I couldn’t imagine living an eternal life without anyone to call family.

Choosing to ignore my comment, Ethen led me into a blooming garden, the flowers muted by the soft moonlight. It was a beautiful sight, one brimming with jasmine and primrose. The scent was warm and rich, tempting enough for me to reach down and stroke the soft petals. It’d been years since I’d stopped to smell the flowers, years since I’d nourished seeds into full bloom, and it would be years more before I would again. After my mother’s death, I’d destroyed the garden she and I had spent years building.