Vampire Elite (34 page)

Tor seemed to want to be with her whenever he wasn’t working. At first, by some unspoken mutual agreement, they kept themselves busy. They didn’t talk about why, but for her part, Arianna was still nervous around Tor, even a little scared of him. More importantly, she was worried about what topics they could talk about. She certainly didn’t want to bring up the war between vampires and Amiti, or anything related to bloodstock or blood-bonding—which seemed to cover everything important that had ever happened in her life. And given his title, she was sure the same was true for him. She did make sure to tell him that her blood-bond with Simone had been severed shortly before Tor had come to get her, so she couldn’t help him find her. Of course, he seemed disappointed by the news, but he also seemed glad that she’d let him know.

For the first week, they watched movies and played games. He brought a deck of cards, Monopoly, Scrabble, chess. When he was out working, she scoured movie reviews looking for good ones neither of them had seen. By the end of the week, they’d gone from playing games in near silence to chatting and teasing each other while they played, and from just watching films to heckling the bad ones and discussing the good ones after they ended, or even pausing mid-movie to talk. And they ended every night by cuddling on the bed, holding each other as they fell asleep.

The second week, they started having fun with their food. From day one, the staff had been delivering all their meals, and even though Arianna assumed that he usually literally ate like a king, taking for granted that all his food would be of excellent quality, she got the sense that he was making an extra effort to procure magnificent meals for her. He seemed excited about them, recounting the origins of various dishes and teaching her some finer points of wine-tasting. And then he began punctuating his descriptions by placing bites in her mouth, getting increasingly playful and creative until finally he stopped providing excuses for doing it and it was just fun. And more than a little hot.

By the third week, they’d discovered a whole lot of conversation material; vampire/Amiti politics suddenly didn’t seem to be the center of the universe anymore, and they were telling stories about when they were kids. Arianna was totally fascinated to hear Tor tell those stories. The guy was a living history book; it blew her mind. She got him to talk as much as she could, spending her idle moments trying to think of as many neutral questions as possible so she could get him to keep the stories coming.
 

Then she decided that she was ready to show him what she did best. She’d started violin lessons as a very young girl, and seemingly as soon as she’d picked up the instrument, her violin instructor was telling her that she had an innate talent, more important than all the technical skills anyone could ever master: she could play in a way that made people cry. She’d always joked that they were crying because they couldn’t bear listening to her, but she knew it wasn’t true. She was good—really good. Something about how she played let the soul of any piece fly free. And her gift hadn’t kept her from developing technical skills, too. If it hadn’t risked putting her in the spotlight way more than any Amiti could afford to be, she’d have tried going pro.
 

So she asked Tor to bring her a violin—of course, he found her an exquisite one—and played and played until she saw him blinking, and then played some more, until he turned away and rubbed his eyes. Then she was ready to stop, satisfied. She hadn’t really believed that she could made the vampire King cry, and although she wasn’t completely sure she had, at least she’d come close.
 

* * *

She must have dozed off while reading in bed, because Tor was practically shaking her, nudging her out of bed. “Get up. There’s somewhere I want to take you, and we need to get ready.”

“What? Where? I don’t want to go anywhere.” She looked around, still disoriented. Had he just come back from working? Judging from the light in the room, it seemed to be dusk.
 

“Don’t worry. It’s not far, just another room in the house. Come on, get up,” he urged, and then got out of bed and disappeared into the walk-in closet. “Actually, wait there.”

She was happy to comply, and a few seconds later he returned, urged her up from the bed, and had her covering her eyes with her hands as he led her into the closet.
 

He pulled her hands away from her eyes to reveal an exquisite emerald-green silk gown on a luxurious padded velvet hanger.
 

“It’s for you. Put it on, my love.”
 

My love?
 

The words gave her goose bumps, a mixture of joy that he might share her feelings and trepidation that she might be letting herself be manipulated. He’d slipped out of the closet right after saying them, though, so she couldn’t look for the truth on his face. Not that she would have found it there.
 

“Do I have time to shower first?” she called to him through the closet door.

“Yes, of course. Whatever you need,” he called back.

As she showered and blew her hair dry, Tor’s
my love
echoed in her head in an endless loop. She couldn’t even think about his words, much less strategize; all she could do was hear them over and over again. Then she forced her attention away from the tangle of her feelings and turned to the dress, which was calling to her in an utterly un-confusing way. It was simply stunning. She slipped into the silky fabric and turned around to look at herself in the full-length mirror. The gown was a perfect fit, skimming her curves and cascading gracefully to the floor, the emerald color complementing her skin and the sparkle in her eyes.
 

Tor appeared in the mirror behind her; he’d changed into formalwear, too, while she was getting ready, and he looked absolutely mouthwatering. Arianna closed her eyes unable to bear the reflection of the two of them together, looking like a couple in love.
 

“Open your eyes,” he whispered.
 

She obeyed and watched Tor as he wrapped her hair into a knot at the nape of her neck and skillfully clasped it with an emerald broach. His eyes fixed on her throat, and as though mesmerized, he leaned toward her and placed his mouth on her vein.
 

Arianna arched into him, her heart accelerating.
Now.
 

“You may take it,” she breathed.
 

Tor’s body went stiff, and then he quickly stepped back.
 

Damn, had she spoken too soon and ruined everything?

But then he dropped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair with a heavy sigh, standing completely still like that for a moment.
 

“You look incredible,” he finally said, kissing her cheek. “Let’s go now.”
 

He nudged her toward the door. When they reached it, she hesitated, scared to step out of their space of safety, but feeling like a stubborn child.
 

Tor seemed to sense her fears. “We’ll come back soon. Don’t be afraid; I promise you’ll like it.” He gently pulled her hand, and she reluctantly followed him.
 

Tor brought her into an empty spacious, candlelit living room. The windows were open, allowing a breathtaking view of the Mediterranean Sea merging with a black sky strewn with brilliant stars. The view allowed Arianna to relax. But that moment turned out to be the calm before the storm; the next moment her shoulders stiffened and she squeezed Tor’s hand.
 

What seemed like an enormous number of Sekhmi began piling into the room, one after the other. It took her a second to realize that it was Tor’s pride. Ah, so this was to be her official introduction. She tried to think about them as just people, tried to manage the noise in her brain. It shouldn’t be hard to remember their names; she knew two already, Theores and Anock, and Tor and Theores had mentioned all of them in their conversations many times. The two bodyguards were Kennet and Shakir; the two others were Leon and Rune. The problem was that she only managed to memorize them just like that, in pairs: which one was Ken and which was Shak? Hadn’t Theores said that Leon was her brother? One looked a little more like her. Oh, hell, she’d just have to come clean and have Theores go over everyone again later.
 

They were all smiling at Arianna, acting as if her presence among them was totally normal. Then two servants appeared, rolling in a cart, on which sat a cake covered in candles.
 

All of them in unison began singing “Happy Birthday to You.”
 

Birthday! Goddess, it was Arianna’s birthday. She’d completely forgotten it; she was turning twenty-two. A rush of memories—of birthdays with her father, of his death on her birthday two years earlier, of how she’d spent the past year, how fraught her life had become—washed over her, and tears burned her eyes. She tried to stop them by lifting her gaze to the crystal, multi-tiered chandelier above her, but they continued to flow. She turned around, embarrassed.
 

Theores came over to her and gave her a warm hug, “It’s your birthday, Arianna; why are you crying? Look at me.”
 

But Arianna just buried her face in Theores’s shoulder, quietly sobbing.
 

After what seemed like an hour, she calmed down, and Theores led her to the head of the table and pulled a chair out for her. After Arianna sat down, Theores lifted her chin and wiped her tears away with a linen napkin.
 

“There we go, birthday girl. Smile! You look so beautiful in your new gown.”
 

The cake had been moved to the center of the table, and Tor himself was cutting pieces for everyone. It was a culinary masterpiece, a chocolate soufflé decorated with fresh cherries and curly-cue slivers of white chocolate. Arianna was struck by the absurd thought that she shouldn’t be crying over the loss of her father, over nearly a year of being drained and imprisoned, in the face of such magnificent chocolate.
 

Okay, chocolate didn’t trump death and captivity, not by a long shot. But really, why was she crying? She should be happy. Things were so much better than they’d been, and she was free, and safe, and she was surrounded by kind and supportive people.
 

Kind and supportive?
A short three weeks ago she was being abused and degraded by Sekhmi who wouldn’t even call her by name. And now, Sekhmi were treating her as an equal, welcoming her into their family, making her feel worthy and loved. She let her gaze drift from one person to another. Gorgeous, powerful, they were masters of the world. They had something she’d never had, and probably would never have: they were a family. She felt almost tangibly the strong bond between them, the respect and support; they stood for each other and could rely on each other. She’d give anything to be one of them, to be a part of them ...
 

Come back to earth, girl. They feed on the blood of your people; they keep Amiti bloodstock locked in the basement of this villa. You’re up here eating your birthday cake, but one of them might be having their blood drained at this very moment, right under your feet.
 

“Now, make your birthday wish,” Theores urged her, her voice rich with invitation.
 

Arianna stared at the candles in a daze. If only she could forget everything. If only she wasn’t the Queen, with all of the responsibilities associated with her position.
 

In some ways, it was all too easy to forget: she still struggled to perceive herself as the Queen; it wasn’t a part of her identity yet. She had to work hard to remind herself again and again of who she was, what her mission was.
 

Highlighted by the candlelight, Tor sat at the table so close to her, his stormy grey eyes. It was if Arianna was drowning in them. She’d have given the world for a life with this man.
 

No. She could not.
He was the enemy of her people. He was
her
enemy. Why was she agonizing over accepting this?

She took a deep breath and then exhaled, blowing out all of the candles.
Goddess, please give me the strength to follow my path and to become the real Queen of my people. Please free me from my doubts.

Chapter 47

An hour later, having reduced the soufflé to smears of chocolate on the platter, they all took an elevator down to the garage and soon were on the marina where an elegant white yacht waited to take them out on the water.
 

It was wonderful being out in the fresh air and watching the black waters of the sea and the lights of Nice on the horizon. There was music and champagne and casual chatting, and it felt as though the real world and its troubles were as distant as those twinkling lights

Arianna was amazed by the luxury surrounding her—but it wasn’t her world; she felt awkward here, out of place.
 

As if sensing her mood, Tor kept her on his lap, occasionally reaching up to stroke her hair. He seemed happy to let her sit back and listen to the conversation around her; he wasn’t trying to draw her out or even participating much himself.

After a little while, a petite blond woman, the only member of the group Arianna hadn’t met yet, got up from her seat and approached Arianna and Tor, stopping to lean against the railing just a few steps away from them. She was Amiti; Arianna could feel it. But—an Amiti? Here? Of course Arianna had heard stories of vampires and Amiti coexisting, and she had her own relationship with Simone to show her that it was theoretically possible, but still, it was shocking to see this female here, acting as if she belonged.
 

Arianna’s eyes stayed glued to her for several minutes. The woman inhaled deeply, chin tilted upward as through she was trying to drink in the fantastic night sky, and then exhaled contently.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked Arianna, a warm smile on her lips.

Arianna left Tor’s lap and walked over to her. “You’re Amiti; how—”