Page 111 of Crimson Oath
The flames left two red scars on his flesh, and Tatyana knew it would take months or even years for them to heal.
She was shaking and wrecked from an overload of sensation along with the rush of Oleg’s powerful amnis flooding her body. She felt lightheaded.
She felt drunk.
Slowly she climbed off him, pulling her ruined sundress over her head and tossing it on the ground before she walked to the bathroom and threw on a robe, then cleaned herself up.
When she walked back, she saw that Oleg had pulled out the tail of his navy-blue collared shirt to cover the wreckage of his torn trousers.
She felt her skin heating up. “I’m sorry?—”
“It’s nothing.” He cast a sly glance at her. “You’re hard on my wardrobe, you know.”
The flippant response jumped to her lips. “If you’d like to borrow a dress, you can have your pick.”
He chuckled and walked over to her, grabbing her by the back of her neck and bringing her mouth to his in a hard kiss. “There she is.”
She felt like she should say something, but she didn’t know what. “Are you?—”
“I’ll bring some extra clothes the next time I visit.” He pinched her chin, pressed one swift kiss to her forehead. “Sleep well.”
Seconds later, he was gone.
Tatyana locked the door, double-locked it, and then crawled into her bed to hide.
The following night,Oleg didn’t come, but he left a note in her trailer before dawn with a few words of apology, his next move on the chessboard, and a clutch of lavender he’d stuck in a glass.
Tatyana didn’t mind. She was still working through the utter confusion of taking his blood and how it was making her feel.
Powerful, no doubt. She’d slept hard through the day, and that night when she woke, the usual burning in her throat was gone. She was barely hungry, and a single goblet of blood-wine was enough to sate her.
Two new trailers had appeared during the day, but she kept to her own caravan until the sound of strange voices had passed. When she snuck out, it was only to go see Rumi and Desiree, who were cooking for the evening meal.
“The man is a wind vampire, and his name is Benjamin Vecchio,” Rumi said. “He’s the son of Giovanni Vecchio, who used to go by the name Giovanni di Spada.”
Desiree murmured something and crossed herself.
“Who is that?” Tatyana felt like they were talking about the boogeyman.
“Giovanni di Spada was a very vicious assassin.” Desiree added a cup of spicy red paprika to the pot she was stirring, then swung the iron arm over the fire and spread the coals to lower the heat. “The oldmen use his name to frighten the children when they misbehave.” She lowered her voice. “Don’t wander at night or Giovanni di Spada will find you and cut your throat.”
Tatyana’s jaw dropped. “That’s terrible!”
Rumi wrinkled her nose. “Yes, it’s not good.”
“And this new vampire is hisson?”
“Apparently he was adopted as a child and raised with vampires.” Rumi kept her voice low. “But he was sired not by his adoptive father but by Zhang Guo.”
Tatyana had heard that name before, many times, in Arosh’s court. “One of the Eight Immortals?” They were the vampire lords of most of East Asia, and rumors of their power and authority were impossible to avoid.
Arosh pretended to be civil with all of them, but he was highly resentful.
“So this vampire staying in the kamvasa is like… royalty or something?” Tatyana said.
She resented him immediately, which was probably unfair, but it seemed like everything in his life had been handed to him, and Tatyana couldn’t help but resent people like that.
“The other vampire’s name is Tenzin.” Rumi was in full gossip mode. She put her knife down and spoke with her hands. “And she was Giovanni di Spada’s old partner, but now she’s mated to his son.”
