Page 129 of Vampire so Virtuous
He didn’t focus on her, his eyes slightly off.
Thralls.
Belle waited until Cally had walked around the car, then linked arms with her again—cordial, perhaps, but unmistakably possessive. “This is where the Curia is staying,” she said with an air of disdain as they moved into the house. “I do miss my own home.”
Another thrall opened the door for them with a bow, and Belle swept in without sparing him a look.
“I have my own wing, at least,” she said, leading Cally through an enormous living room and into a side hallway that ran on through the enormous mansion. “We will enjoy some privacy.”
The words were casual, but the thought of being alone with Belle sent a chill down Cally’s spine. Why had she agreed to this?
“You promised not to hurt me.” The reminder slipped out, unbidden.
“No, I promised not toharmyou.” Belle gave a little laugh. “Don’t worry. Marked chattel healsoeasily.” She inhaled deeply, as though savoring the air. “I love your fear,ma fillette.It makes you smellirresistible.”
Cally fought to suppress it, forcing it down, reaching for the iron core that had steadied her in countless fights. Like facing a higher-ranked taekwondo opponent—except this one played by different rules. She drew on her anger with deliberate care.
“I’m not a steak,” she said flatly.
“Hmm?” Belle glanced over, amused.
“Don’t call me a steak.”
Belle gave a light, melodic laugh. “You Americans are so insular. Don’t you speak any French at all?”
Cally shrugged, remaining silent.
“‘Ma fillette’ means ‘my little girl.’” Belle added with mock sweetness.
Like that made it better.“I’m not yours, and I’m not little.”
“Not mine? Antoine’s, then? Is that who you belong to?”
“I don’t belong to anyone.”
Belle’s smile widened at Cally’s reply, though her fangs remained hidden. “You are fun though, no?”
Cally looked away, taking in the opulent décor around them, but feeling nothing. Marble and leather, manicured gardens visible through floor-to-ceiling windows. It was all just show, and vampires loved their show.
Even Antoine wasn’t above a little grandstanding.
“My rooms,” Belle said as they reached a set of double doors, two thralls flanking them. One of the thralls opened the door without being asked, stepping back with his head lowered. Cally studied them warily.
“Yes?” Belle asked. “Something on your mind?”
She pressed her lips together.
“Do not be silent when I expect you to speak,” Belle said, her voice carrying an unmistakable command. She gave Cally’s arm a sharp tug as they entered the room beyond. It was little comfort to know Belle had carefully minded her strength—she could likely tear her arm off if she were so inclined.
Such a helpful thought.
It was easier to answer than remain silent.Pick my battles.“I was just noting that these thralls were yours, separate from the ones outside.”
“Oh?” Belle arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow as the thrall closed the door behind them. “How so?”
Cally shrugged, then shared what she’d been thinking. “Your thralls seem less imposing, but more dangerous than those outside—fewer needless muscles, more competent lethality.”There. Honest and flattering.
“Quite correct.” Belle ran a fingertip down Cally’s cheek, the nail leaving a faint line behind, and it took an effort not to jerk away. “No wonder Antoine is so infatuated with you.”
