Page 2 of House of Crimson Hearts
The man bleeding on my rug is fading fast. I grip him by the throat and haul him to his feet.
“You get one chance. Who were you stealing for?” I snarl. Erin, my chief of security, caught him trying to swipe books and grimoires from one of the market sellers on her way into work.
He gurgles under my grip, and I realise I’m crushing his vocal cords. I loosen my fingers a fraction.
“I don’t know. Handler. Wanted a book about dhampirs. Said…” he fades further, his skin growing pale.
I shake the man and his head jerks back and forth until his eyes roll back into focus.
“What did they say?” I ask.
“That… That if we didn’t open… open the door… war would come.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? What door?”
“The one in the Montague territory. Behind the boundary.”
“That’s a myth,” I snarl.
“Not to the handler and whoever they were working for.”
I snarl at the man. I need more. His voice box vibrates against my palm. I glance at Frank whose eyes widen. Useless. All of them.
“P—Pl,” he begs.
But I’m done with him. I squeeze my fingers until my nails slice through his skin. Blood pours in delicate ribbons down my knuckles and under my sleeve. My fingers squelch through his muscles and arteries, until I’m clenching his windpipe. I clamp around it and wrench it out, letting his carcass drop to the floor.
“Clean it up,” I bark and march out of my office. The minute I open the club door, noise rips through the air. A pounding beat thumps so hard through the walls of the club that my feet vibrate. The Whisper Club is busy tonight. I step to the mezzanine balcony and peer down. Humans, donors, and vampires dance like maggots beneath me. It’s the same gyrating slick of bodies day after day. The same fucking music. The same human stink.
My club is dark, lights dimmed to encourage all desires to come out to play. The walls are shades of crusted blood. A ring of booths nestles against the walls the same tainted colour. The bar in the centre of the club is the only speck of brighter light, a glass mirror behind the servers augmenting the sparkle.
Optics filled with every type and flavour of donated blood: eau de fear, fuelled by lust, ravished with panic, hang on the back mirror. We like to serve the most expensive and exclusive blood here. One of my side businesses is the donation and collection of more expertly acquired blood. It’s a pricy process because danger powers this city. Do you have any idea how hard it is to terrify a human that lives in a world of vampires? It’s expensive and ugly.
The music drops to a slower, more sensual beat. The maggots draw nearer, fangs sink into throats and arms. It’s that time of night because half the crowd is naked and there are as many fangs biting as there are cocks driving into pussies and mouths. I sense someone climbing the stairs to my mezzanine. I’m about to fire the security guard when Xavier’s mop of thick hair appears.
I sigh.
“Favourite sibling,” I say and turn back to the crowd.
He smiles.
“Good evening, Octavia.” His voice is low and rich as he leans down to place a kiss on my forehead and joins me, peering over the balcony.
Xavier is unspeakably handsome. His jaw is the kind of chiselled that could make a marble sculpture weep. His chin-length hair is a raven gloss that women pay thousands to achieve. And as for his body… while I’m not one to enjoy the male physique, I can appreciate the way women fawn over the canyons carving through his abs and the muscle-boulders perched over his shoulders. Xavier, though, feigns modesty until he wants a woman. And then the ego appears.
“And what brings you to my territory? Are our siblings trying your patience?” I ask.
His lip quirks. “Must you be a bitch this early in the evening? I’ve only just arrived, and I haven’t even had breakfast.”
“Well, dear brother, do help yourself. There’s a veritable feast of fucking and sucking below.”
His eyes drop to the club floor, his lip curls, the barest hint of fang showing.
“It’s beyond me why you entertain our siblings,” I say.
“The same reason I entertain you.” His lip does that quirk thing again and my patience wanes.
“Put me in the same box as them and I will happily castrate you.”
