Page 50 of Death Comes for Her
The guest of honor, the vampire that had consumed the sun, and their Grandmaker. The very sight of him made my fingers twitch, eager to grasp the metal hidden under my dress.
Sanctus Ambrose had arrived.
His appearance didn’t match up with anything my mind ever conjured. In my thoughts, an ancient vampire with the power to amass an army and manipulate enough magic to steal the sun’s power from the sky must also look ancient. I’d always imagined an older man with salt and pepper hair, a square jaw, and a heavy build. Someone with the physical substance to hold up to his reputation.
The crowd parted for a slender man with decently broad shoulders, but a narrow, tapered waist. Rich black robes in a cross between a cape and a dress draped across his frame, with the hem sweeping around his long, lean legs. As his arms spread out, I noticed his crimson waistcoat studded with gold buttons. Extravagant earrings of gold and rubies hung like chandeliers from his ears, and matching rings weighed down his long, slender fingers.
And a flash of a golden necklace momentarily snagged my gaze.
Long black hair fell almost to his waist, framing a long, narrow face. His skin was frighteningly pale, nearly translucent and as flawless as polished marble. Eyes that sparkled like rubies made of fresh blood glinted in the low lights. His full, wide mouth split into a disarming smile that made my heart react with violent fear.
Instead of being old and scruffy, the vampire ruler appeared young and almost delicate in an effeminate manner. If I didn’t know he was an ancient vampire, I’d assume he was younger than me, no older than twenty. The masculine undertones of his appearance paired well with his overall energy, and I hated to admit there was something visually appealing about the bastard.
“My children,” his breathy voice demanded silence as it rang out over the crowd, “how it pleases me to have you all gathered under my ancestral roof once more.”
“Grandmaker.” Simon bowed, cordial and almost imperceptibly stiff.
“We’re overjoyed to have you home,” Dante added.
“Indeed,” he hummed. His sharp eyes snapped to me, caught between Dante and Simon. “And under such delightful circumstances, as well.” He stepped forward, gliding more than walking over the floor. “Tell me, children, who is this lovely creature?”
“A fairy. Delivered to us as a gift,” Simon answered.
“No wings,” Sanctus sucked his teeth, smile wilting.
“They were severed before we received her.” Dante shifted, skimming his palm over my back reassuringly. His fingers tangled with Simon’s at the base of my spine, both men holding me together.
“A pity.” Sanctus stopped mere inches from me. The air in my lungs froze as his hand drifted across the distance and freezing stiff fingers caressed my cheek. “Still, what a gorgeous thing she is. A true gift for the Ambrose Coven, indeed. If only your Maker, Craven, was still with us to witness the wealth of his progeny.” Blood-red eyes flicked between Dante and Simon. “He would be proud of you both, my sons.”
“Thank you, Grandmaker. Your praise is priceless.” Simon’s mask slipped on easily, and it set me on edge.
Dante gestured at the collared servants around the room carrying glasses of blood infused wine. “We have plenty of—”
Sanctus cut him off with a deranged, cheeky smile and a gentle yet threatening wave of his hand. “The girl, my child. I’ll take the girl.”
“Sanctus—” Dante rumbled.
“That’s—” Simon injected.
“Do you mean to keep a delicacy such as this from your Grandmaker? A gift for the Ambrose Coven is a gift for its progenitor. Do you intend to insult me by keeping the last fairyfrom me?” His words escaped with a friendly smile but slithered through the ears like the hiss of a snake. The threat was as clear as glass.
Dante and Simon vibrated with uncertainty and concern. But as much as they’d promised to take care of me, I’d known the moment was inescapable. The Ambrose lords had no power to refuse the sire of their coven and the ruler of all vampires. Not with hundreds of other vampires watching with poisonous, bated breaths.
“No, Sanctus, not at all.” Dante acted first, releasing Simon’s fingers and nudging my back.
“I’m sorry,” Simon whispered against my ear before their calming warmth vanished entirely.
Sanctus enveloped me, snaking an arm around my waist. Even through his clothing, his entire body was frigid, as cold and hard as ice. Another song began, something fast and heart quickening. Or maybe his presence did that to my chest—some mix of fear and resolve stirring up my heart.
I caught one last glance as Dante and Simon before their Grandmaker twirled us onto the dance floor. Their stricken, terrified expressions made my stomach drop to my feet. I tried to smile, to show them my confidence, if only to lessen their concern, but couldn’t be sure if they got the message.
The scent of death drifted into my nose. A rotten yet sickly sweet scent that lingered on his breath. And those eyes that gleamed like mortal blood were filled with malicious delight as he pulled my body flush with his own. A shiver spider-walked down the length of my spine when his hands settled in place for a dance.
“Imagine my surprise when word travels that two spawns of my line have a fairy in their custody.” His eyes dripped over my face as he spoke with a voice as eerie as a ghost. “No one haslocated any fair folk in months. We were beginning to believe you’d gone extinct.”
My mouth remained firmly set in a demure smile. I even fluttered my lashes at him to continue.
“To be fair, I suppose vampires got too excited without the sun barricading us from half the day.” My eyes returned to the necklace nestled at the base of his throat. Something about it lured me in, as if it hummed to a tune only I could hear. “Fairy blood is intoxicating. Hard to resist. Easy to feed and fuck until there’s none of you left.” Sanctus noticed my gaze. He hummed, “Oh, noticed that, have you?”
