Page 3 of How to Stake a Vampire
“You two okay?” Samuel asked quietly.
“I will be,” I said with more confidence than I felt.
“Do try not to embarrass us,” Pearl warned as we headed toward a grand staircase at the far end of the lobby. “That goes for you too, mutt.”
Bo looked like he’d changed his mind about tagging along for this meeting.
Dark wood banisters gleamed under the glow of sconces as we started up the stairs, the carpet runner thick enough to muffle our footsteps. The portraits lining the walls featured stern-faced individuals in period dress who looked like they’d rather be anywhere else but here. Several of them appeared to be tracking our progress with their painted eyes, which was either expensive magical art or weird regular art.
“That’s creepy,” Bo quavered.
“Are those…?” I trailed off and indicated the portraits.
“Former Alliance leaders,” Samuel confirmed quietly. “Some of them are still around, technically.”
I grimaced. “Technically?”
“Vampire politics are complicated,” Victoria said.
Bo’s claws clicked on hardwood as we reached the second-floor landing. A long hallway stretched before us. It was lined with doors bearing brass nameplates:Committee Room A, Private Dining, Archive Storage,and, most ominously, Disciplinary Hearing Room.
“Please tell me that last one isn’t for people who ask too many questions,” I muttered.
Victoria and Samuel’s silence did little to reassure me.
The hallway culminated in a pair of mahogany doors. A nameplate readTwilight Conference Roomin elegant script.
The hairs on the back of my neck rose at the powerful smells coming from inside it.
Victoria straightened her already perfect posture, a determined expression on her face. Pearl moved her tail with lazy arrogance. Bo braced like he intended to bolt at the first sign of danger.
Samuel steeled himself and opened the doors.
2
THE ROUND(ISH) TABLE OF DOOM
My first impressionof theTwilight Conference Roomwas that the place lived up to its name.
The ornate crystal chandelier suspended from the central ceiling seemed to be mostly for show since the muted light barely dappled the shadows in the far corners. The floor was dominated by a massive oval table surrounded by chairs that looked like they’d been designed to make their occupants feel important. The walls were dotted with expensive-looking artwork and portraits of more ominous and possibly constipated people.
Add in a few votive candles and a crystal ball and the place could have passed for a phony psychic’s lair.
My gaze landed on the figures seated around the table. I recognized a few faces from the tea party at Château Montmartre. Still, there were plenty of new ones that made my wolf sit up and take notice.
Gregory and Constantia Tremaine sat near the head of the table, looking like vampire royalty in their perfectly tailored clothes. Constantia stiffened fractionally when we entered the room, her crimson-tinged gaze assessing me guardedly.Considering the state my powers had left her in at the Holt ball, I wasn’t exactly surprised.
“Ah, the Hawthornes.” Gregory greeted us with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Please, join us. We were just discussing tonight’s agenda.”
A woman with silver hair pulled back in a severe chignon looked up from her notes where she sat to his right. She wore an expensive navy suit and had the kind of razor-edged features that suggested she either ate children for breakfast or regularly foreclosed on orphanages for fun.
“You must be Abigail West.” She rose as we approached the table, her smile sharp enough to cut glass. The scent of magic drifting off her marked her as a witch. “I’m Daria Tilcott, the Alliance chair.” She came around and offered me her hand.
I heard several faint inhales just beyond the point of normal human hearing, the loudest of them Victoria’s. A protective feeling mixed with anxiety hummed across the mate bond from Samuel as he took a step closer to me. Pearl’s eyes shrank to slits. Bo gulped noisily.
The silence deepened until you could have heard a pin drop.
This was evidently some sort of test.
