Page 54 of Stalked By Seduction and Shadows

These two were more than happy to indulge. Whatever courtesan I brought them was a first course, but I was the main. I had to make them believe that for as long as possible.

After asking a beefy male server to make two spritzes, I tapped the shoulder of one of the courtesans gathered in a small circle with her coworkers. I didn’t know if Maize was most expensive, but I did know she was considerably nicer to me than the others standing with her.

“Hey,” I said. “Are you free to entertain that born couple over there?”

The dim, warm light reflected off Maize’s tan, glimmering cheekbones. Her perfectly styled, curly brunette hair almost reached her waist, cascading over her ample curves. The other three courtesans shot daggers.

They’d grown more wary of me over time. Initially I thought I’d been protected by virtue of not giving my blood or body to the patrons, but now it seemed they’d decided I was a threat to them, regardless.

Which sucked, because I envied their warm sibling energy. I was grateful I at least had that with Snow.

Kaleb, one of the male courtesans, looked like he fell into a vat of glitter before his shift. It covered every inch of his bare chest.

“Like what you see, village bumpkin?” he sneered.

A few snorts and giggles fell over the group. Maize gingerly grabbed my arm and pulled me away, back to the born.

“Ignore them,” she said. “It’s a compliment, really. You’re just enviously good at your job.”

I wasn’t sure that was the full story, but I appreciated her kind spin, nonetheless.

“Do you know them?” I whispered as we approached the born.

She nodded. “They’re close with Durian, and they love to brag about it.”

Durian. From my preliminary research I’d learned that he was the rising leader of the born. A religious fanatic, he believed that the turned were unnatural abominations that needed to be scourged from the earth, lest we face Lillian’s wrath. Or, at least, that was the story he’d settled on to justify his increasingly ballsy power plays with Rune.

I watched with curiosity as Maize wiped the momentary disgust from her features and decided on her own mask to wear for the evening. She’d chosen something similar to my own, though her smile played into her innocence, creating a similar but diametrical contradiction of her own.

An innocent seductress and a sinful virgin entered the ring. Let the match begin.

27

SCARLETT

When customers became big spenders, servers were instructed to give them any attention they required. There were so many of us on staff that if a few got picked off by entitled rich people, the others could pick up the slack. It was all a part of the game. Odessa was not a place for equal treatment; it was a place where money and power were the loudest voices in the room.

So when the born vampire woman with the short dark hair and amber eyes grabbed my arm and said, “Stay,” I found myself in the middle of two vampires passing a courtesan back and forth.

I kept checking Maize’s eyes for any signs that they were taking too much. My concern for her greatly outweighed my other pressing motivations.

She smiled at me and gave me a reassuring nod each time. Her eyes simply looked… blissed.

Vampire saliva was not only an anesthetic and aphrodisiac, but it could also close up open wounds. I watched as Frederick’s tongue flitted across the bite on Maize’s neck until the blood clotted, holding her tight against his chest while clenching the fabric of her dress.

Beside me, Liza, the born woman, was starting to get handsy—drunk on both blood and elixir now.

From my spot on this curved, black crescent couch, I could still see across the room into a restricted area reserved for Rune and his inner circle.

Through the dance of bodies, my eyes found his.

I couldn’t help but inhale sharply. I had never seen such wrath.

“What is your secret, little human?” Liza purred. She’d been careful not to break any rules—not to give Rune a reason to throw them both out, or worse. Her slender, pale fingers skimmed my thigh, making me shiver.

“My secret?” I asked, keeping my voice steady as I locked on her molten irises. “Which one?”

She smiled, her eyes flashing dark, lustful yearning. “Mm. I love a woman of many mysteries.” The sharp tip of her blood-red fingernail traced along my arm, scratching softly.

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