Page 26 of House of Pawns
There’s no plotting. No scheming.
I just am.
It can’t be more than a minute or so later when Samuel’s teeth retract from my wrist. He licks the puncture wounds and I only somewhat process it when I see them close up, not a trace of what happened left.
“You okay?” he asks hesitantly. He holds onto me gingerly and helps lower me onto the vacant bed.
Slowly, so very slowly, the fog in my brain beings to clear. My vision makes sense again. I can feel my toes, my fingers. “Yeah,” I say airily. “I’m okay.”
“I don’t think I took too much,” Samuel says. He hasn’t letgo of my hand. He watches me intently. “I’m usually pretty good.”
I nod again, my senses rushing back to me. I turn my head side to side, clearing the haze away. “I’m just fine. You did good.”
Samuel chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re one crazy chick, Alivia Ryan. But I feel like you know exactly what you’re doing. Thank you.”
I place my hand on his cheek for a moment and offer a small smile. “You are very welcome. Now let’s get back to the party so you can actually enjoy it.”
He helps me to my feet and then offers an arm. I loop mine through it, and together we step back out into the hall.
The foyer is crowded, bodies occupying every space. We have to fight our way through.
“King Cyrus desires a meeting in five weeks time.”
I whip around, searching the crowd for the face to the whisper. My eyes race through the masses, my heart instantly in my throat.
“Did you hear that?” I hiss at Samuel.
“What?” he asks absentmindedly as he takes a glass of Champagne from the server.
“He’s here,” I say, my voice rising in volume. “King Cyrus’ spy is here.”
Samuel is instantly alert, scanning the crowd with far more enhanced eyes than mine. “I’ll take a look around. You have a party to attend to.”
Without another word, Samuel is gone.
The slightest movement on the staircase draws my eyes upward.
It’s Ian. And he has an action-ready look on his face, scanning the crowd.
“Don’t,” I breathe. Not even the crowd around me would be able to hear me, but I know Ian can. And his eyes suddenly meet mine. “Don’t make a scene right now. Samuel is taking care of it. It’s your time now. This is it.”
I see him swallow hard, but he gives a slow nod.
I make my way through the crowd, to the bottom of the stairs. And draw attention to myself as I do. Eyes follow me, curiosity at the vampire princess in a town that won’t talk about what they know about the night.
But I don’t look at any of them. My eyes are for Ian only.
He descends the stairs, and with his movement, attention is drawn to him.
I hear one quick intake of breath…two. Low voices begin whispering. But I stare at Ian.
He looks nervous, which is so not him. But then again, he’s just become everything he despises. Many know of his hatred of the vampires. And here he is, alive, after being dead.
When he reaches the bottom step, he offers his arm and the foyer is dead silent.
“I think we did this backwards,” he leans over and breathes. “Isn’t it you that’s supposed to make the sweeping entry down the grand staircase?”
A little laugh bubbles up out of my chest.
