Diana, a slim blonde with pointed features and eyes that shifted between green and gold, reached out to clasp Ariane’s forearm in greeting. Power sizzled up Ariane’s arm at the contact, but there was no threat in it.
“Ariane. A lovely surprise. I hoped I would see you again.” Her smile was warm, though it cooled considerably when her gaze turned to Damien. “I see you brought a… friend.”
Damien smirked. “Hello, Diana. You’re looking quite lovely, as always.”
Ariane watched Diana level a cool stare at him and wondered whether there were any vampires who actually liked the man beside her.
“And I see you still have a knack for latching on to your betters so you can freeload,” she said. “Shall I have you frisked for flammables, I wonder?”
Damien shifted position, his smile lazy, his eyes hard as stone. “Not at all. I’m only an arsonist on Wednesdays. I like to keep to my schedule.”
“Damien is helping me,” Ariane interjected, sensing that the verbal warfare was about to escalate quickly. When Diana turned her attention back to Ariane and raised her eyebrows, Ariane nodded.
“Please tell me you’re kidding.”
Ariane blew out a breath. It wasn’t exactly how she’d hoped to start, but she supposed she ought to get used to it. “We’re both looking for Sam… which is what I’ve come to talk to you about, if you have some time.”
Diana sighed, her face falling. “He’s still missing, then. I heard about what happened to Manon last night.” Her eyes flicked to Damien. “I hope you weren’t involved.”
“Not this time,” Damien replied. “I was there shortly afterward. His missing head put a damper on my appointment to talk with him.”
“How very sad for you,” Diana replied flatly, then turned her attention back to Ariane. “I would help if I could, but it’s been months since I’ve seen or heard from him. And honestly, we’re friends, but on his terms. He’s very reserved. I only found out he was handling a lot of the finances with Manon because he slipped and said something about going there as he was leaving me one night. Beyond our chess games, I knew little of him.”
“Chess?” Damien asked. “Is that a euphemism, I hope?”
Diana bared her fangs.
“We need to see M—the Empusa,” Ariane said, only barely catching herself. That certainly stopped Damien and Diana from arguing, but from their expressions, it might not have been the best thing to blurt out.
“Subtle, kitten,” Damien muttered, looking away.
Diana’s eyebrows lifted as she looked between them. “Oh? I see. I’ve been used as a pretense.”
“No, not at all!” Ariane said quickly. “I wanted to see you too. You were so helpful before that I thought you might have seen or heard something else. But things have gotten a little more… complicated… since I last saw you. This is your dynasty’s territory. I think your leader should know what’s going on. And maybe… I was hoping… she could help.”
She held her breath as Diana mulled this over. Damien was silent, and Ariane was grateful for it. She guessed that even he knew nothing he said would be anything but a hindrance.
Finally, Diana relented with a soft, irritated sigh. “Well. I can’t say you were wrong to come. Even though I must tell you that whatever Damien has promised you where my mistress is concerned is at least half lie, likely more.” She shot Damien a hard look. “You know she doesn’t involve herself much in worldly affairs anymore. Especially not at the request of a Shade.”
Ariane’s hopes deflated considerably, though Damien seemed only more determined.
“We’ll see what she says when I actually make the request, then.”
Diana’s composure wavered. “Damn it, Damien,” she hissed, her voice dropping. “She’s not well, and you know it! And she’s in no shape to see you, or anyone tonight!”
The look on Diana’s face, contorted for the briefest instant into a mask of fury and despair, told Ariane that the rumblings she’d heard since coming to Charlotte were true. Somehow, the ancient leader of the Empusae, the child of Hecate, was dying.
Diana rounded on Ariane. “Not a word of this to anyone,” she said, her tone slightly softened but no less urgent. “Please. We all know there are rumors. If they were confirmed…”
She trailed off, but Ariane understood. She nodded. “Of course,” she said gently, knowing that the reality had to be worse than the rumors. And if the leaders of the other dynasties knew for certain how weak the center of the Empusae had become, there would be no mercy in seeking to claim what remained of the dynasty for their own.
“It’s only a matter of time,” Damien said quietly, his voice devoid of any compassion. “You’d do better to be searching for a replacement, rather than pinning your hopes on a miracle.”
Diana collected herself then, straightening, schooling her features back into simple, unreadable beauty.
“The Empusae’s affairs are not your concern, Damien.” Her lips thinned. “You will, of course, continue to be paid well for your work on our behalf and for your… discretion.” She inclined her head toward Ariane again, and for the first time Ariane could see the weariness shadowing Diana’s eyes.
“Why don’t you come in for a drink? You came all the way out here, and while I’m not as skilled as my mistress, if you tell me what’s going on, I may be able to offer something. Besides,” she continued with a soft smile, “I’d like to show you our court, Ariane. It’s not often I get to show off for a Grigori. Sam refused to come inside without an invite from the Empusa, and I never wanted to trouble her for the invitation. Good thing we have a chess table outside.”
“I’d love that,” Ariane said.
“Wonderful,” Diana said, and sounded as though she meant it. “We can join my other guest in the conservatory. It seems the gods decided I needed company tonight. Come on.”
She beckoned as she glided forward, leading them into the west wing of the house. Damien walked beside her as they followed, uncharacteristically silent. Finally, he spoke just loudly enough for her to hear.
“I don’t like this.”
Ariane turned her head to look at him, curious. He was frowning at the floor, his brow furrowed.
“Like what?” she whispered. They passed rooms where beautiful women played music, or painted, or were simply engaged in conversation. It occurred to Ariane that she had never been in a place so utterly feminine. But then, that made sense. The Empusae were the only dynasty that was comprised of only one sex, female to the very core.
“This. We should be out there working, not sitting inside clinking our glasses together and celebrating how wonderful we are. That’s such a bunch of highblood bullshit.”
Ariane gave a soft huff of laughter, as intrigued as she was insulted. “Oh? It seems classier than, say, blackmailing an entire dynasty.”
He snorted softly. “I’m not blackmailing them. Mormo—or whoever is actually running things right now—pays the House of Shadows well for our silence. You can take it up with Drake if it bothers you that much. I guarantee you’ll get nowhere.” He looked around, seeming to take in the serenity of the surroundings, then shook his head. “Pity. I didn’t know it had gotten that bad. If she’s really incapacitated this time, it won’t be long before they fall.”
“Don’t say that,” Ariane murmured.
Damien looked bemused. “Why not, kitten? It’s the truth. I thought you appreciated my honesty.”
She didn’t answer him, couldn’t look at him. Instead she watched Diana, following her lead. He would only laugh at her if he knew what the problem really was. She didn’t mind his honesty. What bothered her was his complete lack of empathy. Ariane had read about what happened when dynasties fell. It was an ugly process, usually fraught with some vampires fighting and dying in a futile attempt to preserve their bloodline and the rest being assimilated into the conquering dynasty through what was known to be a painful and very humiliating process.
No doubt he knew that, had possibly seen things like it. And he felt… nothing.
Remember that when you’re imagining his hands on you, Ariane told herself. All you seem to do is feel, and he can’t feel anything anymore, if he ever could.
A sudden wave of sound came crashing through the hallway, scattering her dark thoughts to pieces. Ariane stopped in her tracks, eyes widening. She didn’t think she’d ever heard music like this, wild and impassioned as someone’s fingers danced over the keys of a piano. It required the kind of emotion that the Grigori were so good at containing. Some of her blood brothers and sisters could sing so sweetly it made humans weep, but that was borne of skill.
This was passion, something her kind had forgotten… something she wanted desperately to experience.
Diana paused in front of a pair of large glass doors to look in, and a soft smile touched her lips. She looked back over her shoulder, and whatever she saw on Ariane’s face had her beckoning.
“I knew if I left him here, he wouldn’t be able to resist. Come, you haven’t lived until you’ve heard Vlad play.”
“The Dracul is here?” Damien asked.
Ariane barely heard him, enchanted by what she was hearing. She walked to the doors, which were open just a crack, and looked in. In the center of the room sat an enormous black grand piano, gleaming in the candlelight. What transfixed her, though, was the man seated at it.
He was beautiful. There was no other way to describe him, though “beautiful” was probably too feminine a word. His hair was pale gold and swept away from his brow. His features were both strong and sensual, with a sharp nose and a mouth that looked like it would be just as capable of cruelty as seduction. She could tell he was tall even though he was seated, and his broad shoulders were showcased perfectly in a severe black suit.
