“He doesn’t want anyone rushing into our territory without the permission of his brothers,” Ariane said. “He seemed to think it would go badly for whoever tried.” She thought of his wings, so beautiful and strange, and of the way he spoke about mortals as though he had never been one. “I’m inclined to agree.”
Vlad sighed. “I wish he had more faith in the other leaders, but… he is Grigori.”
Lily gave Ariane a sidelong glance. “I… hate to ask this. But is your, um, changed mark going to cause an issue with the ceremony?”
Ariane went cold. That was something she hadn’t even considered. She’d been so consumed with Damien’s leaving that it hadn’t occurred to her that she was no longer quite a pureblood. She looked quickly at Vlad, but his smile was understanding.
“I’ve already consulted with Mormo. The changes Damien’s blood will effect in you will take time to manifest, if they do at all. And they may not. Your sire is incredibly strong. She seemed to think your blood would suffice.”
Ariane slumped a little with relief. “Sam told you, then. That he’s my sire.”
“I would have suspected it anyway, but yes. That he cares for you is obvious. And, unusual.”
Lily wrinkled her nose. “And he doesn’t have to deal with Mormo. Lucky him.”
Ariane tilted her head, surprised by the bitter edge to Lily’s voice. “Do you know her?”
“I don’t need to know her. She and Arsinöe keep finding reasons to delay the creation of a territory for my people. Arsinöe sticks to New York, and the Empusa is nowhere I’m even interested in being. There’s plenty of New England that’s technically Arsinöe’s but functionally no one’s, but nooo. Can’t let the demon queen and her gutter cats get on with their lives.” She looked wearily at Vlad. “I’m tired of fighting the battle, but I’m going to win this war, Vlad, I swear.”
Vlad sighed and shifted, recrossing his legs. “I know. I waited until I could bully my way in, effectively. We couldn’t do that for you. But we’ll get there. You are at least a full member of the Council now, and that’s something. Mormo is old and afraid, with a waning line and health that is fragile at best—and everyone knows it. I’ve supported her dynasty because their stability benefits us all, not to mention that she can be a handy ally. But no, she won’t cross Arsinöe. Mainly because she knows the Ptolemy will be first in line to move in when Mormo falls. She’s trying to delay the inevitable. But we’ll get there, Lily. She can’t stop you.”
Lily shook her head ruefully. “Right now, that’s only because I have you standing behind me.”
Ty grinned and planted a kiss on her cheek. “But it’s such a nice view from back there.”
She smacked him and laughed, and the tension lifted, if only briefly.
“I’m curious to see these women,” Ariane admitted.
“Soon,” Vlad said with a small smile that held little humor. “The trap is laid. Only wait for it to be sprung before you show yourself.”
Ariane looked at Lily, whose expression was full of understanding.
“I was curious about them once too. I got my fill pretty quickly.”
Ludo returned to the room then, carrying with him an air of importance that told Ariane the night was about to begin in earnest.
“They’re arriving, my lord.”
They all rose, Lily heading to Vlad’s side, while Ty tugged playfully at Ariane’s arm.
“I get to hide you,” he said, “since the less Arsinöe and I see of one another, the better.”
“Damien told me you were her hunter,” Ariane said. She’d heard the story, which had even been murmured among the Grigori, of how the Ptolemy queen’s prized hunter had freed the Cait Sith, prevented a war with the Dracul, and married the mortal heiress of the Lilim bloodline. She’d been awed that one vampire could do so much, and even the ancients had seemed to approve of the Lilim’s awakening.
“I was her slave,” Ty said, his eyes as bright as the moon. “She hasn’t forgotten. And neither have I. Let’s go.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
DAMIEN HAD NEVER had so little interest in work.
Of course, he’d never spent so many consecutive hours wondering where he’d fucked up so badly, either. So it was a new and fabulous experience all around.
He was only half paying attention as he picked the lock on yet another shabby apartment in one of the seedier parts of Atlanta, quickly and quietly slipping inside and shutting the door. This was his last stop on his tour of the homes of one very careless Empusa’s very worthless servant, all of whom had been merrily raiding the treasure room while their mistress was on an extended holiday. No one was home this time, which made his life easier. He wasn’t in the mood to fight. In fact, he wasn’t in the mood to do much but sit and brood, which was disconcerting all in itself.
The search for the contracted items was halfhearted at best. The sort of vampire who left bloodstains on the carpet and dirty underthings in a pile in the bathroom was not likely to be one who came up with an original hiding spot for stolen jewelry.
Damien pawed through an overflowing dresser drawer, frowning. Cheap porn, stolen wallets… no and no. With an irritated sigh, he turned and scanned the bedroom with well-trained eyes. The carpet was flapped up against the far wall, revealing a hint of old hardwood beneath.
Yes, this thief was an idiot.
It took Damien all of five minutes to pull back the carpet, lift the loose board beneath, and retrieve a couple million dollars’ worth of jewelry that would have made a museum curator’s eyes bug out. He lifted it, watching the way the light reflected off a delicate diamond necklace. It made him think of the way the moonlight shone on Ariane’s hair.
Gods, he was getting disgusting again.
He stood, not even bothering to put the board back. He refused to waste the time on someone who wasn’t even a proper thief. The Empusa in question was an easily distractible know-nothing with a rotating stable of young men and a vile temper, and he had no doubt she paid her servants next to nothing. A shame that they hadn’t been smarter about it. They were just lucky their mistress was too bloody lazy to do much but put them out of a job.
Damien’s lip curled as he headed for the door. He’d keep the damned jewels if he didn’t think Drake would send a legion of Shades after him just out of spite. His employer didn’t seem keen on his prized Shade’s mood the last couple of days. Nor the rather obvious reason for it.
Just wait until the tirade he’ll deliver when he sees my mark. That should be a joy.
The door swung open just before he reached it, revealing a confounded-looking vampire who reeked of smoke and booze. Celebrating, Damien thought, his lips thinning as the thief began hissing at him. He might have considered taking a bath or ten first. Bloody amateurish, gutterblooded…
“I’ll kill you!” the vampire shrieked.
“Oh, piss off,” Damien growled, and took care of the problem with a single roundhouse kick to the head. The vamp went down like a ton of bricks, and Damien stepped over him, sparing him a single, disgusted glance before heading for the elevator. The jewelry was heavy in the pocket of the light trench coat he wore.
Diamonds. The less I see of these, the better, he thought. He’d had quite enough of diamonds. The Stars of Atlantis had vanished, but he had scads of less mystical diamonds in his apartment, kept under lock and key. Not a damned one of them had made him happy. Even the Grigori’s magic diamond had given him a peace that had been no more than an illusion. Everything he’d collected, all the pretty, shiny things he’d hidden away like the magpie Ariane had jokingly compared him to meant nothing. All he had were objects, cold, dead, lifeless things. Much like himself.
Until he’d met Ariane.
Damien clenched his jaw and glared at the floor as the rickety old elevator descended to the first level. He was Damien Tremaine, master of his own destiny, expert thief, cold-blooded killer, and… no one gave a shit. He was as alone as he ever had been. As alone as he’d always thought he preferred.
Shockingly, his entire existence now seemed to suck.
Small wonder, since Ariane had been the only thing good in it.
Damien closed his eyes and groaned softly. What was he doing?
When the elevator door opened, it took him several seconds to register that there was an enormous white-haired giant glaring at him.
By the time it did, Lucan had him by the throat.
“You are not easy to find, Shade.”
Damien gagged and managed to gasp out an answer as his feet dangled above the floor. “That’s… the point… put me down!”
Lucan simply looked at him impassively. “If you run, I will break your legs.”
He lowered Damien to the ground and allowed him a moment to cough while his windpipe recovered. At length, Damien finally looked up from where he was bent over, hands on his thighs.
Lucan loomed before him, watching him steadily and without an ounce of compassion. Damien couldn’t fathom how he had gotten in here without causing a stir. He looked like a creature out of a fairy tale… or bloody Revelations. Lucan wore only simple leather pants and a pair of well-worn boots. His hair, as white as the snow, was pulled back in a simple leather thong. Lucan’s chest was bare, and on either side of him were folded the most incredible wings he’d ever seen. Jaden had mentioned how amazing he’d thought them, but Damien hadn’t bothered to look in on either Lucan or Sammael before he’d left. Now he understood. The wings were enormous, glorious things, covered in feathers that were the deep blue of a sky nearly faded to darkness and edged in a rich blue black.
Ariane’s wings were beautiful, but diaphanous, fairylike despite their strength. These were the wings of an avenging angel. It took him a moment to speak, though it was hard to keep from staring.
“I see you did finally wake up. What do you want, Lucan?”
