Page 61 of House of Crimson Hearts
“In a mood this morning I see, Rumblegrit,” I say but he doesn’t reply. He just sticks his engorged tongue out. There’s a spike on the end ready and waiting for my offering.
I dutifully place my index finger on it and press until a single bead of blood rolls down the spike and absorbs into his silver tongue which shimmers red briefly.
“Thank you. Human blood is vile,” he says, his features softening. The door swings open and we walk in.
The house acknowledges my payment, and for a few short seconds, the hallway walls ripple with veins spreading down the corridor like bloodied tree roots. They fade just as quick and vanish into the wall, only to reappear as another vampire noble enters behind us.
“The house will be in a delightful mood by suns up,” Xavier says.
“No doubt. I don’t think it will have been fed this much blood in at least five decades.” Mother’s staff are dotted down the corridors, dressed in their finest, polished maroon uniforms. They guide us towards the heart of the house and the main ballroom.
When we enter, I halt, surprised at the changes in here. Usually, it’s a sweeping cavernous space dedicated to balls and parties, with glistening chandeliers. But tonight, it is quite different. Around the edges of the room is a bank of tiered seating. It covers three walls, leaving the wall to my left free for a small stage.
In the middle of what was the dance floor are two plinths. The seats are about half full, but it doesn’t look like there’s a seating plan, for hunters and vampires are sitting wherever they choose. Though there’s a natural divide occurring.
Vampires occupy the seats against the far wall, and the hunters fill the seats closest to the door—that, at least, makes sense.
But in the middle, where the two species meet, there is a little crossover and as far as I can tell, no fights have broken out.
“What oh what are you up to now, Mother?” Xavier says under his breath.
“Octavia, Xavier,” Cordelia shouts from the stage, opening her arms as she spots us walking into the room.
We veer towards the stage, climbing the steps and embracing Mother.
“Shouldn’t be too much longer. We’re just waiting for the Chief and the other challengers.
“This is most unortho—” I start. But a sensation stops me speaking.
My body heats up, my cheeks flush, electricity shoots to my pussy. Oh no.
Oh shit. Red.
She’s in the house, I can sense her. Or more accurately sense my blood nearing. But that doesn’t make sense. It should be mostly out of her system by now.
“Excuse me a moment,” I say, and before Mother can be annoyed that I’ve fled, I’m off the stage and exiting the ballroom.
I spot her coming down the corridor. Her posture stiffens when she notices me. I cock my head at her, she presses her lips together but nods and breaks off from the tall handsome chap that is one of the five, I forget his name, Lionel? Larry? Whatever.
I pull her into a drawing room two corridors away.
“Hi,” she says, but she’s rigid, holding herself away from me.
“Is everything okay?”
She shifts on the spot, her eyes falling away from me. She takes a deep breath, gathering herself and says, “I mean, yes, fine.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Fine? Really? I don’t need to be a thousand years old to understand that ‘fine’ means you’re anything but.”
She hardens, her shoulders tight as she rounds on me. “If you really want to know, then no. I am very much not okay, as it happens.”
“I see. And what is the matter?”
She throws her hands up. “You. You're the problem, Octavia. You ruin everything.”
I won’t lie, that stings. After last night I thought we were moving forward. I thought things might be different this time.
I recoil a little as Red stares up at me, her eyes so cold, the green sliding from warm forest to icy lake. She steps into my space, only this time instead of the heat of the night prior, it’s all corded neck, tense muscles and an expression that could stake a weaker vampire.
