Page 68 of Stalk the Dark
“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice an evocative abrasion to my senses. I forced my eyelids open only to drown in the fractured crimson rivers of his gaze. “You’ll stay by my side tonight. Do not speak against me. Do you understand?”
“Yes…” My voice was a dry whisper.
He brought his mouth close to mine, so close that I could feel the impression of his perfect lips and smell the iron of my blood on his breath.
“Oh, Miss Lighthart, you and I…we are going to have such fun this year.”
My pulse skipped, and terror mingled with desire.
I was so fucked.
Chapter 22
Ezekiel steered me down the corridor in the opposite direction from where I’d come in, up a flight of steps and onto a wider hallway, his long stride forcing me to take two steps for each one of his so that I was almost jogging to keep up.
I hitched up my skirts to make it easier. “How did you know I was in trouble?”
“Your hunter bodyguard told me that Matthew had taken you to find me. But Matthew isn’t here tonight.”
“I knew it! But obviously not right away or I wouldn’t have gone with him. He looked like Matthew, until he didn’t.”
“Zafira obviously has a polymorph on staff. The form a polymorph takes is never a perfect replica of the original subject. A close enough look and you can tell. Also look at their eyes. When the light hits them, they tend to glow.”
I’d heard about polymorphs and how rare they were. And there was one here? “Where are we going?”
He smiled thinly. “To make our entrance. I’m sure your bodyguards are getting antsy, despite my firm assurance that I would find you and make sure you were safe.”
“Can you blame them for not trusting you? Youdidleave me to die when we first met.”
“A woman who can hold a grudge, how novel.” He slowed his pace as we approached a set of double doors. “Are you ready?” He looked down his nose at me and offered me the crook of his arm, and I was assaulted with the urge to stab it.
What the heck?
“It’s not a viper, Miss Lighthart. Take my arm.”
He’d saved my life, but I was under no illusions as to why. As far as he was concerned, I was his property, and someone had messed with me, which meant they’d challenged his authority. He’d done what was required to show them who was in charge. But he wasn’t done making his point. Not yet.
Foreboding danced in my belly. “What are you going to do?”
His smile took on a razor’s edge. “Remind my subjects who their king is.”
The door swung open, and I quickly took his arm, allowing him to lead me onto a balcony that looked down on a high-ceilinged room dripping with chandeliers and filled with opulently dressedvampires. Some wore crimson and gold, like the vampires from the parlor, others copper and gold, and a few stood out in black and silver, lurking like shadows among the vibrance. There were human faces among the throng, easily identified by the warm hue to their skin and relatively softer stature. The ribbons around their necks also helped. Silver, gold, or crimson—collars to denote house affiliation maybe?
The ambient music stopped, and all eyes turned to us. Crap, where were Ordell and Hemlock?
I spotted them by the doors a moment later. It was too far to make out their expressions, but I was pretty sure they were watching me.
Everyone stood still, so many new faces…Oh God, I was in a room filled with predators, on the arm of their king.
“Calm yourself,” Ezekiel said under his breath. “Your heart is beating enticingly fast.”
I exhaled and cleared my mind. I was fine. This was fine.
Below us, a woman dressed in a gown of the deepest crimson detached herself from a group and glided to the center of the room. Vamps stepped aside to make space for her. Her brown skin was smooth and youthful, but her ebony hair was artfully streaked with silver, and her sable eyes held eons of wisdom.
“Welcome to Sangera Mansion,” she said. “The House of Blessed is honored to host your rising this century, my liege.”
This had to be Zafrina Sangera, the head of the House of Blessed.
