Page 69 of Crimson Oath
Oleg crouched down and allowed the flames to ripple over his chest, covering his body like living armor. “You stole from me, hurtmy people.” He shrugged. “Sometimes business is business. But I have no patience for betrayal.”
“How can I betray you?” Danior said. “You are nothing to me.”
“Do the Poshani not roam through my territory?” Oleg said. “Do the laws of hospitality mean nothing to you? I am yourhost, Danior. Your kamvasa exists in my lands because of the safe passage I provide.”
The vampire curled his lip. “The Poshani do not need your safety.”
“Because Vano has made a deal with Ivan?”
There wasn’t much. Just a flicker in the corner of Danior’s eye. Nothing certain.
Oleg smiled. “Is that his little scheme? Ivan thinks he’s the lord of his own territory to make agreements with Poshani terrin?”
Danior pursed his lips. “I know nothing of Truvor’s clan.”
Oleg’s arm darted forward and his hand closed around Danior’s neck, collaring the vampire with an iron grip.
As the vampire watched with wide eyes, the flames crept down from Oleg’s shoulder, inching closer and closer.
“Stop,” he whispered. “Stop.”
“Myclan.” Oleg kept his voice mild even as his hand tightened. “Did you have something to say about my clan?”
“I misspoke,” Danior choked out. “I only meant that you and Ivan?—”
“You mean my governor?” Oleg said. “My inferior?”
“Yes.” Bloody tears leaked from Danior’s eyes. “Forgive my mistake, Lord Oleg.”
Oleg pulled back his fire and released Danior’s neck. Then he took a long breath and let it out slowly. “I feel as if you’re still holding something back from me, Danior. This is disappointing.”
“Perhaps he needs to stay in the citadel for a bit longer.” Mika stared at the man like a snake watching a mouse.
“I think you are correct,” Oleg said. “I’m sure he’ll be able to dig himself out tomorrow night. There’s no rush.”
Danior’s fangs jutted from his mouth, cutting the edge of his lip, but he remained silent.
“After all,” Mika said, “Vano and the rest of the clan already think Danior is dead.” He stood up from the chair. “You’ve paid the blood price to his clan.”
“Which means that technically” —Oleg waited until Danior met his eyes— “your blood belongs to me.”
Oleg stayedin his chambers the following night, enjoying the solitude and the quiet. He was working on a new piece, a round table with a blue-eyed wolf in the middle of a dark forest. He set sapphires for the eyes and used milky-white glass pieces in grey and white for the fur.
Along the edge of the table, surrounding the forest, was a border of dancing fire.
“A bit obvious, don’t you think?”
He turned and saw her rolling her eyes from where she lounged in an upholstered chair in the corner of his room. Her smart mouth was pursed in wry amusement, so he set down the tesserae in his palm and walked toward her.
“Do you like interrupting my work?” He spread her legs and knelt between them, running his hands up the soft flesh of her outer thighs.
She was wearing a floating blue dress that reminded him of a ballet costume. It glittered in the low light of his day chamber, the soft lamplight picking up the silver threads woven through the fabric.
The softness of her dress contrasted with the sharpness of her tongue. “Is it even possible to distract the great artist when he is at work?”
“Yes.” He leaned closer, nipping at her chin before he captured her mouth. “You distract me. You won’t leave me alone.”
She lifted her chin. “Says the man who would have me under his thumb.”
