Page 52 of Stalked By Seduction and Shadows

When it became too overwhelming to ignore, I padded across the hardwood and swiped my hand between the mattress and the bed frame.

I weighed Isabella’s heavy, leather-bound diary in my palms. She would’ve murdered me for even touching this. Yet here I was, adding insult to injury as I considered untying the leather straps, peering inside and finally learning what had gone wrong. Why my sister had gone from protecting me and treating me as her partner in crime to looking at me as if I was the reason our parents were dead.

As soon as my fingers undid the knot, my heart sped up and blood rushed in my ears. Intrusive thoughts cut through the fray, and I imagined Isabella somewhere dark and cramped, bloody puncture marks on her exposed body. I wondered if her empty place was as gray and cold as mine. I wondered if she wanted our mother to hold her close, to whisper that everything was going to be okay.

I shoved the diary back under my mattress and headed to my living room to strategize my next moves.

That was when I saw the black box set neatly on my glamorous new couch, a golden bow holding an envelope securely in place.

26

SCARLETT

Iopened the box first. Two ornate strips of golden paper with elegant cursive sat atop a puff of white and gold fabric with pearl and crystal fine embellishments. I held the strips of paper closer, and I couldn’t stop my smile when I realized what I was staring at.

Two tickets to Aristelle’s opera.

I set them down on the couch and pulled out the dress, and I was nearly sick when I was able to take in the full length of it. It didn’t look like it belonged on a human’s unworthy body, or even a vampire’s eerily perfect form. Its silk appeared hand-spun for Helia herself, a work of art reserved for a museum if it couldn’t reach the gods.

I was nearly terrified to even be touching it, this piece of melted gold and cascade of shimmering jewels that must’ve cost more than my entire apartment building.

Yes, in one of my next lifetimes I would be a seamstress, and I’d be grateful if I ever even came close to designing something a tenth this beautiful.

In another, I’d be a singer. This I’d always known. A different version of myself, in a different century, would take the stage and sing for a crowd rather than locking her voice away and saving it only for the stars.

I lay the dress over the couch and opened the note with shaking hands.

Take your witch friend. You deserve to see, hear, taste, and touch all the beautiful pleasures this world has to offer. You burn too brightly to have anything less than it all.

He didn’t sign it. He didn’t have to.

I didn’t understand. He was giving me this dress, these tickets, but he didn’t want to be the one to take me? He was giving the other ticket to my friend?

What was the hidden motive here? By accepting such a generous gift, what debt was I signing my name to?

For a moment, I wished I was someone else, and Rune was too. I wished these circumstances weren’t so deadly, messy, and convoluted. Maybe in another life, a man could take me to the opera and want nothing from me but my affection and my company. But that wasn’t the lesson this world had taught me.

He didn’t know it—couldn’t know it—since we’d only just met. But in another life, maybe a man like Rune would understand just how much this meant to me. How long I’d dreamed of hearing grand performances in breathtaking opera houses, to see Valentin’s most talented musicians, singers, artists, and actors reveal everything that Crescent Haven had kept from me.

I’d never thought I’d experience any of this in Aristelle. I thought I’d be with Jaxon, or maybe a nice mortal man, out in one of the smaller cities in dry lands. I didn’t ever think my grand adventures would involve stalker immortals who thirsted for my blood.

No, Rune couldn’t have known. Yet Lillian damn him. I was now imagining him in a formal suit—all black, as he normally wore—his wicked grin as he watched me watch the singers, those dark eyes burning straight through to my soul.

“I got a dress too,” Snow said, pointing underneath the main bar to where we stashed our tips and gifts, where another black box lay under a golden bow. “Scarlett, this is…” She trailed off, glancing around and lowering her voice. “My whole life, I have never seen that man give anyone a gift. Unless you call dead born vamps on enemy doorsteps gifts.”

At the reminder of Rune’s true nature, my smile faded. The dry lands always warned of the city of vampires and its predatory, deceptive allure. The way unassuming mortals found themselves trapped in a den of hedonism, lured by the promise of wealth, luxury, and pleasure only to end up a vampire’s meal. Or worse, a slave.

“Do you think it’s some kind of game?” I asked. “Maybe he’s been alive so long that he grew bored and needed something new to do? I’m a young human from dry lands. That’s what every vampire wants, isn’t it?”

Snow’s gaze was heavy, thoughtful. “I don’t know, Scar. Like I said, I’ve never even seen him feed. He must do it sometime. I’ve always assumed within the privacy of his castle. I don’t know what he’s playing at, and it’s not only impossible to get an intuitive read on him, but it’s equally impossible to read you.”

I swallowed. “You mean, in a witchy sense?”

“In all senses, babe.”

It was still early in the night, but Seraph threw us a glare for chatting too long and neglecting our slow trickle of patrons. The club was as darkly beautiful and decadent as always, quiet chatter and a few lingering moans escaping from one of the many plush alcoves.

“Please, please be careful,” she said. “I’d ordinarily allow my friends to make any dumb decision they want, learn their lesson, and then I’d be there for them on the other side. But in this case, I’m just going to say it: Getting involved with Rune in any capacity is a death sentence. Whether or not he would hurt you, which is highly probable, isn’t even the worst of it. While they’re currently playing nice in broad daylight, the two clans are still very much at war. If you’re tied to Rune, you’re a weakness to exploit. The fact that he knows this and is putting you in danger anyway makes me dislike the fascist prick even more than I already do.”

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