Page 5 of The Sanguine Selection
I roll my eyes and turn back to the empty mirror, wishing I could appreciate the gorgeous king who should be staring back at me. “My cock is at alert if that’s what you’re asking.”
“This is no time for jokes, Mikhail,” he snaps in irritation. “Something like this has not been done before.”
“Calm down, brother. Two vampires have shared a human before. This will be no different.”
Marek storms forward and pulls open a pair of red curtains. An eruption of cheers pours in from the coven, entering my chambers through the open balcony. He points towards our subjects. “It is different, Mikhail. And this is why. Because every fucking one of them is watching.”
I wave him off. “You act as if exhibitionism is a new kink for you, but we both know that couldn’t be farther from the truth.”
He grins at me savagely. “It is when our blood-slave is involved. Shall I have her brought forth to the dais below now? Alone without protection? If you feel nothing for her but a desire to feed and fuck, then this should be an easy question to answer.”
Instantly blood boils within my veins at the thought, my undead heart lurching at the very idea of her alone down there, a human woman surrounded by a thirsty coven of vampires. My twin, seeing and sensing my reaction, arches one dark victorious eyebrow. “Ahh. So there is something else there, isn’t there Mikhail? She’s not just a blood-slave. Larissa is so much more.”
My gut twists as if I’ve just been impaled by the end of a silver spear. “Larissa…She told you her name.”
Marek nods. “After I told her mine.”
“You’re a fool,” I spit. “Letting her in like that. How can you hope to control yourself when you allow her to live in here.” I tap the creamy skin of his chest. “And now, you’ve forced me to suffer this knowledge along with you. I didn’t want to know her name.”
“But know it you do, and that fact cannot be undone. If we are to do this claiming, then we must be on equal playing grounds. No secrets. No lies. Only the purest truth. It is the only way to come through this unscathed.”
“Tis a simple drink, brother. Even you can control yourself.”
A look passes over his golden eyes, an unsureness so abnormal for Marek. He’s always been the confident one, seeming to know the answers to questions not even posed. A tyrant some might say, but he cares so deeply for his coven, for the longevity of them, he’d do anything for them…
For me.
He casts his gaze back out over the crowd, standing utterly still. “But this time, I do not drink alone. This time, we feast on her together.”
“I hear your words but sense the meaning behind them. This is more a nightmare to you than a dream come true.”
He says nothing for a moment, then turns to me and speaks softly. “I care for her, Mikhail. Perhaps more than I should. I don’t want anything to happen to her, to us.”
I move beside my twin and place my hand on his shoulder. “Nothing will happen that isn’t supposed to. This is a moment to feel excited, not concerned. Can you not sense it? The very air has changed.”
I sense Jasper approaching the door and wave it open before he can knock. Jasper enters, a human man who has worked his way up the ranks proving himself a very loyal and useful servant. Unlike most human slaves, Jasper is allowed normal clothes and the pleasures of a woman, vampire or human I care not. He bows deeply, one gloved hand behind his back. “Good evening, my kings. The stage is set. Your presence is requested.”
Marek and I turn to each other. “Shall we?” I ask.
He nods.
I close my eyes and squeeze, picturing the entrance to the hall below. A moment later as the lick of flames around my feet subside, I open my eyes and find myself standing exactly where I wanted to appear, Marek arriving a moment later in a blaze of orange fire and black smoke.
Music begins to play, a violin, uttering a sad song filled with melancholy and despair. It’s perfect. Marek and I begin the walk, down the long aisle to the dais. We could elect to simply vanish and reappear at our destination, but that would make our entrance less impactful than the slow waltz up the stone walkway. The violin’s song changes cadence, something softer and morose, as if the music was welcoming one to their death. Torches light the cavern and candelabras hang low from the carved cathedral ceiling causing the entire space to flicker in a soft orange glow. Sconces blaze from the walls, their fires gleaming inside the gaping mouths of iron dragons.
Every seat is taken, every bench filled end to end with vampires. Our human servants line the perimeter. Even without their transparent slave gowns or metal cuffs secured to their wrists and ankles equipped with d-rings allowing for quick securement, they would still be conspicuous. Humans are vastly smaller than vampires, their frames weaker, their skin and eyes more muted colors than our superior race. If not for their physical appearances, their pounding hearts give them away.
I dare not look around, keeping my eyes locked on the dais at the back of the cavern. Twin iron thrones gilded with ornate decorations and adorned with sparkling gemstones await us. Our ankallah gleams proudly from the top of each throne. Behind them, carved right into the stone are hundreds of niches each containing flickering candles.
Marek and I ascend the stairs to the dais and take our place before our thrones, then as one, we turn to face our coven. Cheers erupt once more. Applause and even some excited growling reach my ears, though the coven does not yet know what they’ve been summoned to witness, only that it is of utmost importance.
It’s Marek who addresses them, much more eloquent than I could ever be. Where his words are smooth and eloquent, mine are more abrupt and perhaps a bit condescending.
But shouldn’t that be expected? I am the fucking king.
As the welcome from our coven dies down, Marek spreads his arms wide and the violin sings a final, sorrowful note. “Welcome everyone to this momentous occasion. My brother and I are honored to have you here to witness it. Looking around I see many familiar faces. The Volkov family, almost kin to my own. The Federovs, Leukins, the Babanins… you all honor Mikhail and I this night.”
Knowing it’s expected that we both address the coven, Marek turns to me and I pause, choosing my words carefully. “I know our coven is run differently from many others. Our slave labor is often brought into question but to our sovereignty we hold true. Because the truth is, we are not like the others. We keep to the old ways. We are superior. We are…more.”
