Page 57 of Hunt the Dusk
Ezekiel lifted his empty glass to join the toast.
“Get the king some wine, you fool!” Christian admonished Banbury.
Ezekiel held up his hand. “No need. I have instructed my chamberlain that I will not be drinking tonight.”
Laudon’s face fell. “You don’t trust us.”
“Would you?” Ezekiel asked.
“I see we will be dispensing with the formality of etiquette, then?” Zafrina Sangera said.
“I think that’s best, don’t you?” Ezekiel replied dryly.
“Very well. In that case, may I be frank?”
“Please do.”
Her gaze flicked to me, and Ezekiel sighed. “You may speak freely in Miss Lighthart’s presence. Unlike the rest of you, I am certain that she is concerned only with my welfare.”
“Now hold on a second,” Laudon said. “How long have we been friends?”
“Forever,” Ezekiel said. “But I have been in slumber for the most part, and as you never fail to remind me, the world has changed, and I can only deduce that so have the people.”
“We meant no disrespect,” Zafrina said. “If you were with us consistently, then we would never have asked for the dissolution of oaths. But we cannot govern effectively when adhering to archaic rules.” She sounded sincere enough.
“Then we write new ones,” Christian said. “We can do that this year, and His Majesty can approve them.”
“Oh, pull your nose out of the king’s arse,” Albert said. “Any laws we pen now will be redundant in a few decades, and we’ll be in the same situation we’re in now.”
“Enough!” Laudon said. “We’ve discussed this, and we agreed to let His Majesty mull over our proposal. Can we not just enjoy a meal together?”
“I find I have little appetite for food tonight.” Albert turned up his nose.
“In that case, you will enjoy my offering,” Christian said from down the table. “I have arranged a bonding feast for us tonight. It is an offering freely made.”
Zafrina sucked in a sharp breath while Laudon almost choked on his wine. Albert looked as confused as I felt, but the others exchanged shocked glances.
Beside me, Ezekiel was as still as stone.
“Fresh and clean and willing, the offering is ready for our consumption.” Christian stood and clapped his hands. The doors at the far end of the room opened, and four men carried in whatlooked like a stretcher…Wait, it wasn’t a stretcher; it was a huge silver tray with someone laid out on it.
I caught the spill of dark hair as they placed the tray on the far end of the table before sliding it up toward us and…Oh…Oh God.
Regina slept on the tray, her chest rising and falling evenly. They’d dressed her in a gauzy, white, see-through gown and surrounded her with crimson blooms so she looked like she was floating on a river of blood. Her skin was flushed and rosy. She looked beautiful.
Christian ran his thumb along her wrist, leaving a crimson line in his wake, where blood, thick and dark, welled.
A sigh filled the room, and all the vampires sat forward, mouths parted as they breathed in the scent.
My skin prickled.
“Christian…” Duke Lotheram said. “She smells delicious.”
Christian’s chest swelled with pride. “A special vintage the House of Spirit has been cultivating for generations. Offered freely tonight for us all to share.”
To share? My scalp crawled. “What’s going on?”
“Maybe your guest should leave the room for this,” Christian said, throwing a polite, almost apologetic smile my way.
