Enslave (8 page)

“What is it?” Antoine said and Payne turned a furious glare on the aristocrat vampire.

Andreu’s blood chilled and sank to his toes. Payne knew about succubi and when Andreu had been younger, he had heard rumours that a fae’s real name was secret, only he had never realised why before tonight. She had given it in exchange for her freedom, but something told him that she had paid a high price.

“I don’t remember,” Andreu lied without flinching. If knowing her name gave him some sort of power over her, then he wasn’t about to hand it out to everyone in this room. She had trusted him with it, which told him a few startling things about her.

She hadn’t lied—she had come to him because she wanted him, not because she wanted to kill him. She valued her freedom, enough to sacrifice something of much greater value to achieve it. She trusted him.

The last one shocked him the most.

Payne’s relief was palpable.

“We need to speak to her,” Antoine said. “She has to know that she isn’t welcome in the theatre, especially during the shows.”

“Then you will need to gain an audience with her and that won’t be easy.” Payne’s expression turned grim once more. “She might be tempted to visit Andreu again. He could convince her to confess what she really wants and tell her to leave the theatre alone.”

“I have spoken to some of my contacts already and have found a man who knows fae. I will speak with him tonight and then we will lure her back to the theatre after the show has ended and the building is empty.” Antoine swallowed his entire glass of blood in one gulp. “Javier, arrange for rooms at The Langham and make sure the staff go there with Callum after the show ends tonight.”

Javier nodded. “I can do that. They might have to double up but I am sure most of them will not mind. The presence of the succubus has unsettled Victor and some of the older elite performers. It is best they are away if she will be coming back.”

Andreu had thought that Victor would welcome a sex fae with open arms. The man had a voracious appetite. Payne’s words came back to him. A succubus normally killed all but her strongest hosts if she got down and dirty with them. Absolutely no comfort there if things went the way he expected, and wanted, them to go.

“Payne, we need you to focus on finding a way to lure her back to the theatre.” Antoine set his empty glass down on the tray on the chest of drawers.

“It shouldn’t be difficult. If she gave energy to Andreu, she will be hungry again. She’s obviously curious about him so she will return. I can help funnel her towards him though,” Payne drawled in a tone that would have covered his true feelings had Andreu not been watching him so closely. He didn’t like what they were doing.

They were only going to speak to her. He would ask her nicely to leave the theatre and him alone. Maybe she would get the message. If she didn’t, well, he wasn’t sure what Antoine had in mind.

“And Andreu will play the bait,” Antoine said and Andreu sighed.

“Where will I be playing bait?” He hoped it would be somewhere comfortable because he was sure it was going to be a long wait. He had tried to hurt her in the seconds before she had disappeared. He would be surprised if she came back at all. He hoped she didn’t.

His heart called him a liar. He was as curious about her now as she was about him. He wasn’t looking for a woman, business always came first after all and she was bad for business at the theatre, but there was something about her that said she might be fun to fool around with, if he was strong enough to survive sleeping with her.

Antoine smiled. “I think it is time you put on a grand performance.”

Andreu shared his smile.

He would put on a performance for her, one that she wouldn’t be able to resist.

And then he would kiss her again.

She wasn’t the only one who couldn’t shake the taste of the desire that sparked between them whenever they touched.

He looked down at the glass in his hand. Not even blood could compare to the sweet drug that was her kiss. She had given him a taste and had him hooked on her.

Now he wanted another fix.

And it wouldn’t stop at just a kiss.

CHAPTER 6

V
arya glared down at the theatre below her and the vampires as they filed out of the building into the waiting night, their animated chatter drifting up to the rooftop where she perched. They broke into smaller groups as they reached the pavement, some heading off on foot while others stepped into chauffeur-driven black limousines. Elegantly dressed female vampires hung from the arms of their beautiful males, their eyes still bright with hunger.

Varya had managed to pass last night without coming within two hundred metres of the theatre and had fed by kissing a few choice males at an erotic club in the city’s Soho district. They hadn’t tasted good. None of them had compared to how Andreu tasted and more than once she had imagined it was his mouth she explored with her tongue, not a stranger’s welcoming one. She had left before she had fully replenished her energy, tired of kissing males who weren’t her vampire.

The vow she had made to never return to Vampirerotique had been too much for her to keep tonight. She had tried to stay away, had focused on how angry she was, not just with herself but with Andreu, and the dangers of setting foot in the theatre again. She had even recited the rules of her clan, paying specific attention to the ones regarding shadowed males and vampires.

Nothing she had tried had worked in the end.

The thought of seeing Andreu again and finally deciphering the mysteries that surrounded him had been too alluring, too enticing.

Too exciting.

Something about him stirred her soul and made her feel as she had in her youth, bubbling with excitement and fascinated by the world, seeing it through fresh bright eyes with only positive feelings in her heart. Only this time, the world hadn’t caught her attention. A single male had. A single beautiful, dark, enthralling male.

It was the thought of kissing him that had finally broken her. She had teleported straight to the roof where she now crouched, the wind buffeting her, chilling her skin even though she had dressed to suit the weather. The cold breeze cut through the long sleeves of her black bodice top, icy fingers caressing her legs through her stockings and creeping up her black ruffled skirt. The soft strands of her dark hair blew across her face but she didn’t push them behind her ear to clear her vision. She kept her focus on the glass doors of the theatre.

The final attendees left the building. A few minutes later, the bastard blond came out onto the columned porch. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and rocked on his heels. As always, he wore the sleeves of his dark shirt rolled up his thick forearms, revealing the markings that tracked up their undersides. Was he proud of his heritage? Did the others know? She bore her teeth at him even though he couldn’t see her, a defensive reaction she couldn’t contain, and considered teleporting right in front of him to shock him and get him back for scaring her the other night in the theatre.

He jogged down the broad steps to the pavement, turned on his heel and strolled down the street. He was leaving?

Varya smiled and teleported straight into the theatre. The vestibule was quiet.

Too quiet.

It didn’t deter her. She knew where to find Andreu. She disappeared and set down in his apartment. The sumptuous crimson room was empty, the covers on the four-poster bed neat and straight. Her limited senses confirmed that he wasn’t in the apartment, or even on the same floor as she was.

She opened the door and almost skipped down the hall, feeling positive and carefree now that the bastard was out. All she had to do was avoid the beast and his brother, and she could have another taste of Andreu.

Had he thought about her as much as she had thought about him?

She had even dreamed of him.

Varya couldn’t remember a time when she had dreamed of a man before, but she had dreamt of Andreu and it had been incredibly hot, a vision of wild lovemaking that would quench even the most carnal thirsts. A tangle of limbs and sweat-soaked skin, and deep rumbling moans of pleasure. An erotic dance that far surpassed any she had experienced and awakened hungers in her that had stayed with her when she had woken, leaving her heart pounding for more. It had been luscious and deeply satisfying. Would it feel that way in reality?

If she gave in to temptation and her desire for Andreu, would she be able to control her instincts to feed? She honestly didn’t want to kill Andreu.

She doubted she could even if she did lose control.

He was stronger than the fae king that she had bedded many times without killing.

Varya teleported down to the bottom of the double-height black room backstage and paused when her senses spiked. He was near. She kept herself veiled and approached the twin doors that led to the theatre. He was there on the other side. She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, she was in the box where she had been when she had first seen him.

Her eyes widened at the delicious and tempting display on the stage below her.

Andreu lay reclined on a red velvet chaise longue wearing only his black trousers. One leg stretched out along the length so his bare foot dangled over the end and the other was crooked at the knee. He rested a book on that knee, his brilliant blue gaze scanning the pages. When he flipped the page, every muscle in his arm shifted and flexed beneath his skin, delighting her eyes. He raked his fingers through his tawny hair and sighed.

Gods, he looked so good.

She needed him so much.

Varya disappeared and reappeared on the stage beside him. She walked around to the foot of the chaise longue, assessing him and drinking her fill of him at rest. When she revealed herself, he was sure to fly at her as he had before she had teleported from his room. She wanted to make the most of him as he was now.

She reached his feet and froze. Her glamour lifted against her will and she realised her mistake.

The grey ash on the scuffed black stage floor had slipped her notice. She had been too focused on him.

Foolish.

The circle of ash glowed and fire burned through her bones. She shrieked and Andreu dropped his book, instantly sitting up, his fangs on show and his eyes crimson.

“Son of a bitch.” She pushed the words out and collapsed to her knees with a jolting thud as another wave of pain rocked her, intensifying the flames in her bones until she felt they would incinerate her and turn her to ashes similar to those that caged her.

His eyes went wide, horror filling them. She didn’t believe their lie. He had sought to hurt her and he had succeeded. The ash surrounding her glowed brighter and she cried out again, squeezing her eyes shut against the agony that lanced her. Her skin prickled and heated. Her stomach twisted, feeling as though someone had punched her, and she doubled over, clutching it. She had to break the circle.

It took tremendous effort to peel one hand away from her stomach. It slid limply down her thigh and hit the black wooden stage palm up. Her fingers shook, limb so heavy that she could barely move it. She drew sharp deep breaths and clenched her molars together, fighting the pain threatening to render her unconscious. Had to break the circle. She slowly opened her eyes, flipped her hand palm down and crept forwards with her fingertips across the scuffed floor, using her short nails to claw her way towards the ash. Her vision swam and her stomach heaved. Her heart became a throbbing beat in her chest and darkness encroached at the very edges of her mind but she forced herself to keep going. She would not submit. She would bear the agony to regain her freedom. Her fingers were so close now.

A white-hot ring snapped around her neck.

Varya arched backwards and screamed until she ran out of breath and her throat burned. She snarled and hissed, writhing as she clawed at the collar.

“No. No.” She forced her fingers into the tiny gap between her skin and the metal and pulled on it. The metal burned her fingers and cut into the back of her neck but it didn’t stop her. “No. Get it off me. No!”

Andreu shifted to the edge of the seat, his eyes blue now and impossibly wide. His gaze flickered between her and whoever stood behind her. She hissed and pulled on the collar, the blood making her fingers slip off the metal. The ash around her continued to glow, fierce and vicious, mocking her and draining her strength. She would never escape this circle.

She stared at Andreu and tears burned her eyes. How could he have betrayed her? She had given her name to him and had healed his pain, and he had repaid her with this?

She screwed her face up and kept clawing at the collar, the smell of her blood and blistering skin not deterring her.

“Stop it.” Andreu shook his head, his blue eyes imploring her to do as he ordered. “You are hurting yourself.”

Varya wanted to laugh at him but she didn’t have the energy. Her bones throbbed, limbs like lead as her burst of adrenaline faded, leaving her weaker than before. She kept trying, determined to prise the collar off her before it was too late, but her arms felt so heavy and her fingers were too weak to grasp the infernal ring that held her neck. She barely managed to keep them hooked over the top edge.

Andreu stood. “I said to stop it! You are bleeding.”

Varya growled at him, hot tears streaming down her cheeks, and her head spun. The world went dark and blinked back into horrible vivid life, the pain returning with it. She curled up on her side on the stage, fingers still clutching the collar, and sobbed.

“What did you do to her?” Andreu said, his voice distorted in her ears.

She stared up at him through her tears, too weak to do anything else, waiting for her precious life to end.

She shouldn’t have come back to him.

She should have known it would end like this.

Andreu crouched at the edge of the circle, his elbows resting on his thighs, and looked at her. Varya stared at him, contempt cutting through the pain that racked her. Her tears dried against her skin. He looked so sorry. Liar. An actor of his skill belonged on this godsforsaken stage.