Page 80 of Vampire so Virtuous
Her eyes flashed with anger at his equivocation. Her face hardened, and before he could react, her hand shot up, fingers digging into his hair with a speed almost too quick for him to detect. She twisted, yanking his head back and exposing his throat with a strength he knew he couldn’t match.
“Does she, or does she not, take your blood?” She bit off each word, pulling him down to his knees before her.
“She does, my lady,” he answered, keeping his tone as moderate as he could. The pain in his scalp was mild; Belle regularly inflicted far worse. If this was all she wished to do, he could bear it.
She laughed lightly, the sound carrying a faint bite. “My, but our Belle has been a naughty girl.” Her grip tightened, holding him in place as she gathered her skirts. It took her a while to collect the voluminous fabric, and he could do nothing but remain still before her.
When she finally draped one bare leg over his shoulder and pulled his head closer, her skirts cascaded around him. He was under them, and it became clear she wore nothing beneath. Her hand guided him to her.
“Do you know our laws, Antoine?” she asked, her voice husky as she ground her hips against his face.
“No, my lady,” he said, muffled against her body, but he knew she would hear him clearly. He hesitated, then tentatively licked, his compliance growing as her hand urged him.
“Another area where Belle seems to be remiss.” Her foot dug into his back, pulling him closer. She gasped softly, a small sound of pleasure. “But I cannot judge her too harshly when she’s clearly trained you so well.”
Resigned to his fate, Antoine used his tongue with all the skill he could muster. His life might well depend on it.
*
Boston, Massachusetts, Present day.
“Memories?” Gabriel asked.
“Too many,” Antoine replied shortly.
Gabriel scoffed sardonically. “You can say that again.”
“What about you? Ever met a Curia member?”
He ducked his head briefly, his eyes darkening. “A few times. First was about a hundred and fifty years ago, in Chicago. A vamp tried to push into someone else’s territory and broke all the rules. They sent Nathan Walsh. You know him?”
Antoine shook his head.
“Scary. Came alone, no escort, no servants. One night, then every thrall and spawn in the territory was dead. The vamp was taken, wrapped in chains. Never heard what happened to him, but he’s never been seen since.” Gabriel stared at the card table. “I was on clean up for that one. We had our work cut out for us, getting everything hidden before the chattel discovered the bodies.” He paused, lost in the images in his mind. “He’d been brutal. Efficient, yes, but brutal.”
“He killed the spawns?”
“Mmm. He killed everything and everyone the vamp had touched. Including the spawns.”
Antoine shifted in his chair, uncomfortable. “That’s surprising.”
“I think the Curia sees the Code as more of a set of guidelines, to be ignored when it suits them.”
Antoine thought back to Belle, to Lady Beatrice.
“Because, my pet, rules are just rules. Nothing matters beyond power.”
“I agree,” he said. “And that makes them unpredictable, and a law unto themselves.”
“Yes, which is concerning,” Gabriel said. “The second time I encountered the Curia was here, in Boston, shortly before you arrived. It is, in fact, how I got my territory.”
“Oh?” This was new ground, something they’d never discussed. Not that they’d ever particularly talked before; this was fast becoming the longest conversation they’d ever had. Allies indeed.
“The vamp who had my region before me was a tobacco plantation owner from North Carolina, by the name of Alonso Ramirez. Originally a Spaniard who came over during the colonization. He moved north in the eighteenth century, and settled here in Boston.” Gabriel shrugged. “I knew him in passing; I hadn’t been here long. The Curia turned up, evicted him, and handed me his territory.”
“I have heard of such happening before. Yet in the Code, our domains are sacrosanct.”
“That’s the point, isn’t it? They can do what they want, and they ignore the Code when it suits them.”
