Page 48 of Vampire so Virtuous
“No, my lady, not at all.”
She laughed lightly, then pressed her body against his back. “Good answer, my pet.” Her hand slipped beneath his chin, pulling his head sharply to the side, exposing his neck. She held him there, in that awkward position, her playful tone evaporating. “What did you say to Beatrice that might have given such an impression?”
He tensed, the strain in his back a sharp reminder of her strength, far beyond his own. He dared not resist. “I do not know, my lady. I merely answered her questions.”
“Oh?” Her lips brushed against his neck, her breath hot against his skin. “What did she ask you?”
He gritted his teeth as her fangs pierced him, the sharp sting overshadowed by the cold, sinking feeling in his gut. It wasn’t just the pain—it was the helplessness, and the way his body responded despite himself. “She… she asked what services I perform for you, my lady.”
Belle waved one hand before his face in a ‘go on’ gesture, then took a long swallow of his blood.
Speaking felt like dragging his words through melted wax, each syllable a battle as she fed. She no longer clouded his mind—not since the first time, when she’d controlled him. “She asked me if you fucked me, my lady, and… and if you fed from me.”
Her hand rotated before his eyes again, and he felt her throat convulse as his blood pulsed into her mouth. “I answered her honestly, on both accounts.”And she said you’d been ‘naughty.’ Is what you’re doing now ‘naughty’?“She asked if you had taught me the vampire laws, and she… she suggested that perhaps you should. That is all, my lady, I swear.” Lady Beatrice hadn’t shown much interest in talking past that point.
Belle pulled back, licking her teeth, and Antoine felt a trickle of blood run down his collarbone. “So she asked if I fed from you, and you confirmed it?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“C’est très intéressant,” she breathed. “And yes, I do believe it is time you learned our rules. We have a Code, my pet. It was written long ago by the Curia.C’est barbant.It is very tedious. It is very long, and very thorough, and tells us what we cannot do.” She slid her fingers over his chest, her touch lingering, before pushing them up to his collar. With a sharp tug, she tore his shirt from him, the fabric shredding effortlessly beneath her strength. “If I am expected to explain it all to you, I am going to need some payment in return.”
“Of course, my lady.”
She moved around him, tugging open her bodice as she came, then reached for his head, pulling him closer, fingers tangling in his hair. “The three core rules are: Vampires must not kill vampires. Vampires must not feed on vampires. Our domains aresacrosaint. But above all else, we must stay in the shadows.” She guided Antoine’s mouth to her nipple.
He pulled back enough to speak. “But you feed upon me, my lady.”
“How can I not?” she laughed, breathlessly. “You are sodélicieux.”
He frowned as she clenched him against her breast. “My lady, if the vampire in Paris was evicted for breaking the Code, and you have broken it by feeding upon me, and Lady Beatrice knows this, and”—he hesitated briefly—“called you ‘naughty,’ why then have they rewarded you with that same territory?”
She laughed with delight. “Because, my pet, rules are just rules.” Her fingers pushed more tightly into his hair, forcing him to his knees before her. “Nothing matters beyond power.” She reached for her skirts and tugged them up and out of the way, then pulled his head between her legs. “Power is everything, my pet. Remember that.”
*
Boston, Massachusetts, Present day.
“I want you to do something for me, Marcel.”
“Of course, sir.”
Antoine settled into his wing-back chair, the firelight flickering across his face. “Regretfully, I’ll need thralls in the nights ahead. I can’t be everywhere at once. If Minh follows through—and I fear he will—he’ll bring chaos to my territory. We need to strengthen our defenses.”
“With thralls, sir? You’ve always shown… Is it that serious?”
Antoine didn’t answer, his fingers drumming a slow rhythm on the armrest. “Find me those I need. They must have no families, no lives of significance, no occupations that would notice their absence. Use the dregs,the”— his smile was faint, almost bitter—“outcasts.”
“Beggars and homeless men?”
“Exactement.”
Marcel tilted his head. “French, sir? Were you back in Paris?”
“Nantes, actually.”
“Ah.” Marcel said. “I know how much you detest it, sir. I will be most scrupulous in my research. It means leaving the house for the day.”
“Mmm. I know. Travel with care and take the gun, Marcel. Ensure you are back before dusk.”
