The prince held up her arm, his thumb stroking the pulse point at her wrist.
Terror gripped her mind, but her body buzzed. She wanted to cry, but only managed a small whimper that sounded suspiciously close to need.
“Your Highness.”
The cool voice cut through the heat.
“This is the one who said your name. I found her with Envy.”
The prince dropped her arm, his nostrils flaring, scenting her.
She stumbled back, no longer caring if she offended him. Camilla wanted to be as far away from his deadly touch as possible, though her body still angled toward him, yearning. His hold over her hadn’t dissipated fully yet.
He looked her over with new interest.
“Envy’s paramour.”
The vampire prince’s voice was silky, designed to seduce. She wondered how many mortals had lost their lives to that sinful sound.
“Or a diversion, Zarus.”
“One way to find out.”
“I would strongly counsel sending her back,” Blade said. “Wrath is primed to attack. We don’t need to lose a potential ally in Envy, too.”
The prince’s smile was razor-sharp.
“Bathe her. I want the demon stench removed before dinner.”
Camilla didn’t return to her full senses until Blade dragged her out of the throne room and slammed the door shut.
He whirled on her.
“Do you wish to start a war, little lamb?”
“It doesn’t seem to matter what I want,” she said, rubbing her arms.
“Allow me to impart some advice.” Blade advanced on her, rage burning in his crimson gaze. “Do not offer yourself up to the prince. Pitting two courts against each other won’t end well for anyone.”
“As if I had any choice. You do realize his touch removes all bodily control?”
His gaze darkened with suspicion.
“Not possible. That only happens when he gifts a mortal with his tongue. Terror should be clawing at your heart. Not desire.”
Blade’s attention swept the corridor, and she could see he was thinking quickly. He yanked her forward again, his voice low.
“Does Envy know what you are?”
No, but he’s been trying hard to figure it out, she thought.
“I’m an artist.”
Blade slammed her up against the wall.
“No amount of magic hides the truth in blood.”
Blade looked like he was considering biting her. She held his stare, silently daring him to.
She swore he’d regret it.
“Act afraid next time you’re near Zarus, or he will become curious. I saw your reaction. Be thankful he wasn’t paying attention. I promise intrigue is the last emotion you’d like to invoke in him. Do you wish to leave here?”
Camilla nodded.
“Then fight your true nature. Or find yourself his new princess.” He finally loosened his hold, and she peeled herself away from the wall.
“Why are you helping me?”
“I am helping my court. We are standing on a knife’s edge at present, thanks to a foolish play our prince recently made, and I will protect these vampires at all costs. If that means feeding you to the wolves, I won’t hesitate to do that instead.”
He leaned past her and opened a door she hadn’t realized they’d been pressed up next to.
“Lock the door. Do not open it for anyone until I come for you again.”
He didn’t say the precaution was to keep the prince away, but Camilla knew that was what he’d meant. The warning was there, flashing in his eyes. The only reason she hadn’t already been bitten was because Blade had intervened. Twice.
Camilla didn’t want to owe him any more favors. She sensed they didn’t come for free.
She ducked under his arm and did as he’d suggested, wondering, as the bolt slid home, how she’d control her senses the next time Zarus touched her. It seemed there were indeed some truths she couldn’t run from, no matter how hard she tried.
Blood will out, as they say.
A castle filled with vampires was perhaps the most dangerous place for someone with secrets like hers.
Blade returned directly after her bath, looking freshly bathed as well.
Camilla couldn’t help but feel disappointment when she heard his voice on the other side of the door. She’d never been the type to turn to religion, but she’d prayed Envy would be standing there, looking suspiciously close to an angel. Something she knew he’d hate.
While she’d been alone, she’d had time to go over the events leading up to her kidnapping.
The Fear Collector had given her that name, Prometheus. It was the vampire prince’s true name apparently, which made sense. Otherwise Zarus would be inundated by too many creatures speaking his name on a daily basis. The Fear Collector had either known—or bet—Camilla would say it out loud.
She was certain of it. Which meant this had to be part of the game. All she had to do was survive until Envy puzzled out the clue, if he hadn’t already done so.
Unless this was part of the game she needed to solve… her mind raced with new possibilities. If she’d been tricked into coming to the vampire court, the game master had a reason for it. There had to be something here he wanted her to find. But what?
Blade gave her an icy once-over when she kept the door half closed.
Instead of ushering her into the corridor, he pushed his way into her chamber.
“Give me your wrist.”
She clutched it to her chest. The gowns she’d found waiting for her after the bath left much of her skin bare. The sleeveless dark plum one she wore now was the most decent, and its neckline plunged to her navel. The right side of the skirt had a slit to her thigh, and the silk clung to her every curve, as if she’d dipped herself in paint.
Two little straps held the top in place, but barely. One quick move in any direction and she’d be on full display. She shuddered to imagine being so bare in front of the vampire prince.
“No.”
“Do you prefer to offer me your throat?”
His mouth curved into a taunting imitation of a smile as his gaze dropped to the dress’s slit. There wasn’t anything heated or sensual in his look, only mockery. Blade enjoyed reminding her that she was only a warm meal.
“There is always your femoral artery if you’re feeling a bit more daring.”
She leveled him with a hard look.
“Have you been drinking?”
“An idea came to me.”
He casually dropped onto a high-backed chair, his gaze running over her again, this time contemplatively.
“Vampires are highly territorial by nature. Even the prince wouldn’t touch what belonged to another, at least not without making a grand show of fighting for the prize. Should you be bitten by someone else, he’d have to submit an official challenge.”
“Let me guess,” she deadpanned, “you wish to own me.”
“No, darling, I wish to get rid of you. As easily as possible.”
He leaned forward, his hands clasped loosely in front of him. If it hadn’t been for the hunger taking over his expression, he would have looked deceptively relaxed.
“One bite. One mark. Zarus won’t move on you again.”
In life things were rarely as simple as Blade was making this out to be.
In fact, whenever someone promised an easy solution to a difficult problem, it was wise to run as far and fast in the opposite direction as possible.