Come in from out of the cold, it whispered. I’ll keep you warm.
Jacks speared her with a quicksilver glare. “Don’t be dazzled. You’re useless to me as a vampire.”
“Well, let’s hope I don’t decide I’d rather be a vampire than be useful to you.”
Jacks’s eyes turned into daggers.
Evangeline fought the urge to flash him a gloating smile, but a corner of it snuck out. She knew she couldn’t become too comfortable with taunting Jacks, but just because she liked a door didn’t mean she was going to step through and bare her throat for a vampire. She was also feeling emboldened by the knowledge that she was not as replaceable as he’d tried to make her believe. He needed her for his precious Valory Arch, which wasn’t entirely reassuring, but she’d worry about that later, after she found Apollo’s real killer and cleared her name of suspicion. “Instead of telling me what I shouldn’t do, you should make more of an effort to do things that make me want to continue working with you.”
“Such as saving your life?”
“You did that for yourself.”
“But I still did it. If it weren’t for me, your story would be over.” Jacks ended the conversation by hitting his knuckles against the door and saying, “We’re here to see Chaos.”
“The master is not accepting visitors tonight,” said a voice like a heavy rain, musical and enthralling.
Jacks rolled his eyes. “Tell your master that the Prince of Hearts is here, and he owes me an unforgiven debt.”
The door opened immediately.
Jacks clenched his jaw, almost as if he wished his words hadn’t worked.
It would have been easy for Evangeline to anger Jacks further by making a show of being bewitched. The vampire who opened the door was exactly what she’d expected. He looked like the son of a warrior demigod—or someone who just had really excellent bone structure. Dressed like an elegant assassin in a fitted black leather tunic and a high-collared coat that had thick cuffs that folded up to his muscled forearms and revealed skin so flawless it glowed.
She remembered not to look in the vampire’s eyes. But she could feel the heat pouring off him. His gaze hungrily raked over her form-fitting corset with a smile that was all sharp fangs.
Her heart raced.
His fangs grew longer.
Relax. Jacks’s voice in Evangeline’s head. Fear only excites them, Little Fox.
Her blood continued to rush. You still can’t control me, she thought back. And you told me you wouldn’t try.
I was only trying to warn you, Jacks silently replied.
And then, as if he weren’t a monster as well, Jacks slid an arm underneath her cape and wrapped it around Evangeline’s waist, holding her possessively tight as he drawled, “Stop flashing your fangs. I’m the only one who gets to bite her.”
Jacks nipped at Evangeline’s ear, cold and sharp. She felt the sting of it everywhere, covering her with gooseflesh, which somehow turned to blush when it reached her cheeks.
No matter how many times I bite you, you’ll never turn into what I am, he’d said. And now he was doing it, just to prove that he could.
Evangeline started to pull away.
Don’t. Jacks spread his fingers and tightened his grip on her waist. Humans don’t have power here. If he thinks I can’t control you, he’ll do it, and I guarantee you’ll enjoy that even less.
You still didn’t have to bite me, Evangeline thought. And she would have shaken him off, but she wasn’t there to fight with Jacks. She was there because Apollo was dead and she needed to find out who’d killed him.
So instead of battling Jacks, she gritted her teeth as he released her waist and took hold of her hand.
Without another word, their vampire guide led them forward.
At first the wide hallways and the dramatic stone staircases were not so different from the oldest parts of Wolf Hall. The walls were covered with works of art, ancient shields, and steel blades that took on a bronze tint beneath the heavy rings of candle-covered chandeliers.
The stairs took them deeper and deeper underground, where the air once again turned to frost, and Evangeline found herself fighting the urge to lean into Jacks. So far, there were no coffins or corpses, but she heard several rattling noises that sounded like chains. A few steps later, she might have caught the coppery scent of blood. And were those shackles hanging between a pair of portraits?
After another flight of stairs, their guide directed them into an indoor courtyard full of limestone columns and night-blooming flowers, where it was impossible to miss all the shackles. They gleamed against the walls and columns, polished and ready to use. Manacles for wrists and ankles and necks were proudly displayed above game tables set with black-and-white chessboards.