Vampire Elite (12 page)

They were drugging her!
Arianna leaned forward, opening her mouth, and at the moment the bowl touched her teeth, she bit down, jerked it from Sef’s hands, and flung it away as hard as she could. She heard a
thunk
, then smelled the noxious odor of the spilled liquid.
 

But before she could appreciate her small victory, Sef was shoving her to the ground, straddling her, forcing her jaws open, and Elora was bending over her with another bowl. She poured the vile brew into Arianna’s mouth, stroking her throat with her free hand, forcing her to swallow. “Drink.”
 

Arianna gulped for air and the liquid slid down her throat. Heat ripped through her body, following by waves of warm, tingling sensation.
 

Everything changed around her. A joyful, floating lightness filled her and the Sekhmi around her suddenly stopped being frightening. She savored their eyes caressing her nude body, luxuriating in the warmth of their gaze on her luscious breasts, the perfect curve of slim waist, her glowing skin. She’d never felt so beautiful, so erotic ... She was drifting, floating away on waves of rapture and sensuality.
 

She felt hands lifting her, standing her on her feet.
Ew!
The floating was
much
better lying down. She’d lie back down. She pitched sideways, feeling a little drunk. The hands straightened her up again. Oh, this was fun! She giggled, leaning the other way.
 

“I think the concentration was too high, Elora.” The voice was distant, distorted.
 

“I had no idea she was that weak.”
 

Weak.
Silly vampires! She giggled again.
 

“She looks like she’s right where we want her—more or less. We can start now,” announced Khay. She registered the words coming out of his mouth, but their meaning just wasn’t ... there. And figuring it out was way too much effort.
 

She heard chanting. Someone—Sef?—came up behind her, holding her, and half pushed, half carried her to Khay. Khay lifted his right hand, palm up, and pierced the center of his palm with a knife he had in his other hand. Blood pooled in his palm, and then he raised his palm to Arianna’s forehead.
Ew!
No, wait, actually it felt nice. Warm, and a little sticky. She sighed.

“Binding the mind,” Khay chanted, and then his pride echoed his words. Something like pulsing tendrils spiraled into her head, around her brain. She felt her mind relax, lean into the support of the vines encircling it.

Khay moved his bleeding hand, laying it between Arianna’s breasts. “Binding the heart.”
 

“Binding the heart,” his pride repeated. The vines twisted into her chest, tangling around Arianna’s heart in a coiling embrace. She looked down at the bloody palmprint on her chest. Wow, now she could really understand what they meant when they talked about blood. She felt so
connected
to him.

“Binding the body.” Khay placed his palm on Arianna’s lower belly and kept it there, his lips spreading into a possessive smile. The creeping tendrils spread through her belly, her groin, and licked out through her torso to her arms and legs.
 

She felt a flare of disappointment when Khay stepped back from her, but it receded a little when Sef led her to the next Sekhmi in the circle and handed him the knife. She went through the ritual with each of the Sekhmi in turn, feeling the vines snaking through her mind, heart, and body.
 

By the time Sef had taken his turn and she had the prints of each vampire on her head, chest, and belly, Arianna was exhausted, no longer giddy. But she also felt more peaceful than she’d ever felt. The vines were whispering to her: she would live a new life, free from worries, free from troubles. She had a great purpose, the one she was born to fulfill. She would feed her pride, she’d take care of them. She would satisfy—no, she would
exceed
—all their wishes and desires. Her body was melting; her heartbeat was slowing down; she was relaxing completely into the warm, submissive commitment she’d made.
 

Sef led her to the middle of the circle and guided her into a kneeling position. Someone cut the ropes binding her wrists. Elora placed a golden bowl in front of her and handed her the knife, still covered with blood.
 

“Now bleed yourself for us,” Elora ordered.

Why was Elora using that tone? She knew Arianna would do anything for her. Had Arianna displeased her? Taking the knife from Elora’s hand, Arianna nuzzled her knuckles. Elora seemed to forgive her and petted Arianna behind her ears. “Good girl. Now show your devotion to your pride.”
 

Without hesitating, Arianna slashed her wrists over the bowl. She watched, fascinated and proud, as her blood poured into the vessel, filling it to the rim. Elora put some ointment on her wrists to stop the bleeding and said, “Now offer your blood to your masters.”

She picked up the vessel and carried it to Khay, presenting it to him with a deep bow. Smiling, Khay accepted the bowl from her and raised it above his head. “To the Great Sekhmet, for her generous gift.”
 

Arianna watched his throat moving as he took several long swallows from the bowl. He looked satisfied, proud. Oh, good—he was pleased with her! He passed the vessel to the next member of the pride, who drank and passed it to the next. After they had all drunk her blood and the bowl had come back around to Khay, he again held the bowl high in the air, and they all chanted, “Thanks to the Great Lioness for her generous gift.”

Chapter 14

Simone had no idea how long she’d been unconscious; a splitting headache told her she’d been drugged. At least she was lying down. She opened her eyes only to see more darkness: she was blindfolded. When she started to raise her hands to remove it, she discovered that her wrists had been bound.
 

“What happened? Where am I? Why am I bound? Let me go!” She sensed at least two other people in the room. Based on their energies, she’d bet her fangs they were Sekhmi.
 

“Let me go!
Let me go!
” she screamed, jerking against the bindings in an attempt to free herself.
 

“In a few minutes, Princess.” a calm male voice finally responded.
 

Simone stopped screaming. He had called her
princess
, so they knew who she was. They wouldn’t hurt her. Her father was the King; he’d skin them alive if anything happened to her. At least that’s what she kept telling herself. She tried to believe it.

“Who the hell
are
you, and why am I tied up? Where’s my sister?” Simone put every ounce of badassery she possessed into her voice. She’d never let them know she was scared to death.
 

”You’ll see your sister in a minute, Princess.” The male grabbed Simone by her waist, pulled her up from whatever she’d been lying on, and stood her on her feet. He moved behind her, keeping a firm grip on her shoulders. Simone felt a metal point press against to her chest.
A knife
. Were they going to rip her heart out? She forced herself to take a deep breath, squashed down the panic that rose up in her throat.

“What are you doing? Are you going to kill me?” She could hardly hear her own voice through the roaring of blood in her ears.
 

“Just disrobe, your highness.” She sputtered something unintelligible, stuck between
I don’t think so, motherfucker!
and
how am I supposed to do that when I’m tied up, motherfucker?
But before she could actually articulate either, the other guy slid the knife through her shirt, tearing the soft fabric apart and removing the pieces from Simone’s body. Then, in one fast motion, he cut her two-hundred-and-fifty-euro bra in half, baring her breasts. Now
that
was going too far.
 

“Stop it, you son of a bitch,” she bit out, shaking with indignation and anxiety. Ignoring her fury, the piece of shit removed the rest of her clothing, leaving Simone naked. Never in her life had she been treated so disrespectfully. The most outrageous part? Her offenders were Sekhmi. How could they degrade her like this when she was one of them? And not just one of them—their
princess
!

“How dare you!” She screamed, trying to release herself from the iron hold of the Sekhmi behind her. “I am the vampire princess! My father will kill you! Let me go, motherfucker!”
 

“In a minute, your highness. First we need to prepare you for your mating.”
 

“For my
what!?
”
 

“For your Shay-Nefer mating ceremony,” he repeated. “Consider yourself a bride-to-be.”
 

“Shay-Nefer? You’ve
got
to be kidding me!” Surely she’d misheard him?

Shay-Nefer, translated from ancient Egyptian as
Good Destiny
, was the vampires’ mating ceremony. During Shay-Nefer, mates exchanged their Life-Forces, which vampires believe was the spiritual essence of blood, circulating in their bodies, sustaining life, consistently renewing and regenerating them, keeping them forever young. Shay-Nefer established an unbreakable bond that was said to enhance the Life-Forces of both partners.
 

The catch was that when vampires died, their Life-Forces died with them—and if they’d mated, it would kill the mate, too. Very few modern vampires engaged in Shay-Nefer: they were smart enough to know that no commitment lasted forever, and if they
were
head-over-heels in love, they didn’t want to risk the chance that they’d be killed accidentally and take their mate along with them. So the ritual had become a bit of a relic, an over-the-top, Romeo-and-Juliet romantic gesture for couples wanting to show that they lived only for each other and chose to die the same day their mates died. In other words? Totally incongruous in this situation.
 

“You
cannot
be serious.” Simone’s voice had returned to normal. Really, this had to be some sort of sick joke.
 

“You’ll meet your mate in a minute. And believe me, Princess, you’ll be
extremely
motivated.”
 

Simone was lifted and carried somewhere—
outside
, she thought as the ambient sounds changed. Her feet touched grass as she was set down. A male voice purred from behind her, “Welcome to my humble abode, my princess. Thank you for accepting my proposal. I am honored.”
 

Simone straightened her shoulders. “I didn’t
accept
anything. Stop this ridiculous charade and let me go!”
 

“Oh,” the velvet voice mocked. “You will accept, believe me. You’ll accept with enthusiasm.”
 

Simone’s blindfold was pulled off. For the first few seconds she could see nothing; the sun was too bright. As soon as her eyes adjusted, a raw, wild rage uncurled inside her like an awakened cobra. Arianna was kneeling in front of her, her eyes vacant. Her beautiful skin was ashen and smeared with blood. Her wrists were bandaged and her mouth taped. She was so weakened that her head lolled to the side. Even though she’d never seen the symptoms of blood-loss in person, Simone could tell that Arianna had been drained within an inch of her life.

“Dear Goddess, Arianna. What have they done to you?” She started toward her sister but was stopped by invasive hands.

“Your sister is our offering to the Great Lioness,” the male behind Simone purred into her ear. Another male stepped to Arianna, wrapped her hair in his fist, pulled her head back and laid a dagger to her throat.

With that image in her eyes, they were covered again with the blindfold. What? What was happening? Were they going to kill Arianna?
 

“What do you want from me?”
 

“Accept my proposal, your highness. I wish to mate with you for eternity through an exchange of Life-Forces in a Shay-Nefer ceremony.”
 

“For
eternity
? I don’t even know you. And
you
don’t even know
me
. I could be a bitch—I
am
a bitch! Why the fuck would you want to mate with me?”
 

“Sure you know me! I’m Khay, by the way. The Crowned”—Simone decided she’d just call him
asshole
—“And I have my reasons. One is that you’re the King’s daughter.”
 

“The King! My father will
kill
you for this! You can’t escape his power. And believe me, it will be a slow and painful death. How dare you even
suggest
something so outrageous?”
 

“You’re wrong. I’m taking care of that. You see, if I die,
you
die. Surely King Tor wouldn’t do anything that would endanger his daughter’s life.”
 

In stunned silence, Simone realized that the son of a bitch—
asshole
, she reminded herself—was right. The Shay-Nefer would make him literally invincible—at least as far as her father was concerned. If her so-called fiancée challenged the King for the throne, the only allowable outcomes were his death or Tor’s. The King would have to choose between killing his opponent—and Simone along with him—or sacrificing his own life. The meaning of the proposal was suddenly crystal clear.
 

Simone hesitated. She wouldn’t be responsible for her father’s death.
 

“I’m losing my patience, Princess. You’ll decide at the count of three. On three, your Amiti sister dies.”
 

Simone’s blood ran cold. Arianna was her sister! But ... she was worthless to the Sekhmi, except as bloodstock. Less than worthless, in fact; as the Queen, she was a high-status member of the enemy’s ranks. And Tor was her father, and the most important of all Sekhmi. It might even be treason—
and
patricide—to go along with this plan—

“
One.
”
 

But Simone couldn’t imagine mating with someone she hated. And she’d never be able to get rid of him. He died; she died. End of story.