Page 6 of A Sacrifice in the Smoke

I shoot Noah another glare. “Keep your eyes on that phone, Forrest.”

He doesn’t acknowledge me. Seeing no other alternatives, I yank my dress off and quickly reach for Sylvia’s. Now that I’m holding it, I actually study it, and the design is stunning. Made from champagne-colored tulle, the bodice is constricted, accented by a long bouffant skirt. It looks like something my cousin would design from her high-end fashion company in Sul. What is a bounty hunter doing with a gown like this?

Regardless, I make a mental note to thank Sylvia the next time I see her.

As I shimmy into the extravagant gown, I can sense the heat of Noah’s gaze. He’s watching me, and despite my command to keep his eyes down, I can’t seem to call him out. The small space fills with words unsaid, touches unmade. Suddenly it’s difficult to breathe and I feel weak.

I feel even more so when, a moment later, a blush creeps its way up my neck. I finish pulling the gown on and drag my thick curls over one shoulder, then struggle with the zipper. It must be caught on something, though, because it won’t go any farther than halfway. I swallow a sigh and keep struggling, my arms bent at awkward angles.

“Are you being stubborn or stupid?” Noah asks. “I can’t tell.”

It seems impossible that he doesn’t sense the war raging inside me. Doesn’t sense my desire to abandon caution and reason. Noah Forrest is a bright, beautiful flame, and drawing closer to him would only burn me in the end. “Fine. Help me, damn it,” I growl, presenting my back to the vampire.

There’s a pause, so prominent that the air around us feels thicker. Noah closes the space between us, almost soundless in his movements.Predator. Vampire. Equal, the monster purrs—she has no qualms about whether or not to give in. But the human part of me keeps resisting.

Then Noah is behind me, assailing my senses with his scent. Soap and cologne and temptation. While his fingers grasp the zipper, Noah blows the bare skin along my shoulder. He’s not even touching me, and already there’s a throbbing between my legs. I feel the barest brush of the hunter’s lips as he replies, “Say ‘please’ and I’ll think about it.”

Cocky bastard.I’m rigid from want and denial. But my body is on fire and the war inside me has gone quiet. I also still need his help with the zipper, damn him. “Please,” I whisper.

Silence trembles around us again. I’m breathing hard, and the stillness makes this all the more noticeable. How does Noah always manage to make me feel like a teenager again?

Seconds tick by, marked only by every anticipatory inhale and conflicted exhale. Noah toys with the zipper, brushing his knuckles against my bare skin. My eyes flutter shut, and in the darkness, a flash of memory goes off like a bulb. Drew’s face, the night we stood in that alley, facing each other over inches that felt like miles. The stricken shadow in his eyes and the slash of pain that used to be his mouth. Guilt passes over me, dimming the blinding sense of want.

But then I feel Noah’s mouth toward the base of my spine. That’s all it takes—I forget everything else. And I hate myself for it.

Slowly, torturously, Noah follows the progress of the zipper, kissing his way upward. When he reaches my neck, he teases me with tongue and wandering hands. They trail down, around, and under the tulle skirt. I rest my head against his shoulder, tipping it back, eager for his fingers to claim me.

Noah’s phone blares into the silence.

That wicked mouth on my body goes still. I can sense Noah’s struggle, torn between answering his phone and finishing what we started. The interruption is exactly what I need, though, to regain reason. Remember why I shouldn’t fall for this vampire, in any capacity, no matter how simple it may seem. Even one romp with Noah will affect my head, my heart, and any capability of resisting him in the future.

“You should get that,” I manage, uncertain whether I’m relieved or furious at the interruption. Maybe both. No,definitelyboth. Noah pulls away, and the spots on my body where his mouth and hands, so hot just seconds ago, run cold.

“Yeah?” he says tersely into the phone. The screen’s glow puts a spotlight on how his eyes linger on me. Sickened by my weakness, by the fact that I want this asshole, especially after I just broke someone else’s heart, I look away.

As I turn, my gaze flicks past the window, and a flutter goes through me when I recognize where we are. The fog of lust retreats, and fear steps out.

Before I’m ready, those familiar, ornate gates appear. Tonight they’re wide open, but members of the Vampire King’s security team stand on either side, every one of them wearing full body armor and holding semi-automatics. I frown at the sight—Alexander must be worried about the rebels. He’s never displayed so much firepower at a mansion party.

The limousine draws closer, and I accept the mask Noah offers me, eager to hide behind it. According to tradition, everyone must remain anonymous until the great unmasking at midnight… but my hope is to be long gone before that point.

There’s a line of other cars making their way around the fountain. Vampires from every district and bloodline loiter on the front steps, glittering in their finery, their smooth, immortal skin gleaming in the moonlight like glassy lakes. I search their faces, dreading and hoping to see one of my siblings, but they’re all unfamiliar. I do see some three or four of my cousins, none of which I’m close to.

Our limousine stops and, a moment later, the door opens. I try to ignore the anxiety growing inside me.

Gravel crunches under my heels when I tentatively step out, and as I straighten, I take several fortifying breaths. Within a moment, Noah appears at my side. A black mask now hides half of his sharp-edged face. I know I’m staring, but thankfully, his attention has gone to the entrance. Counting the guards, maybe, or searching for someone to go home with after the event.I bet Beatrix would oblige him, I think sourly, spotting my sister through the wide doorway. She stands at the base of the staircase, white teeth flashing as she laughs at something Cain says.

Startling me, Noah slips an arm round my waist. “Easy, there, baby vampire,” he mutters under his breath. “Wearing a mask doesn’t hide the hate in your eyes.”

Worried someone will recognize my voice, I bite back a vicious response. I can feel the monster just beneath the surface, watching, waiting for her chance.

As I work to school my expression, Noah and I glide toward the front doors, where a slave waits with a tray of crystal glasses. I reach for one without hesitation and toss it back, enjoying the familiar burn of drinking champagne too quickly. I can feel Noah’s eyes on me, but he doesn’t comment. Not yet, at least. While he hands a second slave his official invitation to this event, I set the empty glass back on the tray, pick up my skirts, and walk inside like a soldier heading into battle.

Even here, barely over the threshold, I can hear a string quartet playing from the ballroom. The sound is like something from a dream, reminding me that the last time I stepped through these doors, I was someone else. Someone who had faith in her father. Someone who had not seen the darkest parts of the city.

Someone not nearly as determined to survive.

Several of the Vampire Kings’ wives have taken up positions in the foyer, greeting every guest that arrives. Blood vials gleam on their chests or at the hollow of their throats. Normally, my mother would be among them, and I feel a pang of grief in realizing that I’m probably the only one to notice her absence.

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