Page 21 of Hot Vampire Next Door: Season Three

Touche

The party is being held in the ballroom because of course Duval House has a ballroom.

A dozen chandeliers hang from the soaring ceiling, their crystals glittering in the light. Round tables dot the perimeter of the room while a raised dais to the left of the entrance holds a full band. People have coupled off to dance in unison in a way that reminds me of all of the Regency romance movies Mom used to watch when I was a kid.

Over the years, I’ve attended a few Locke House vampire parties, but nothing like this. Nothing that was planned at the last minute and somehow turned out like an event that was planned by a team for a year.

Bran leads me across the room and the crowd parts for us, the others bowing or bending their heads to him as he passes. He ignores them.

We come to a private table where Damien sits at the head. Jimmy is there too with a few other vampires that I recognize but whose names escape me.

“Late, as usual,” Damien says, his tone scolding.

“Sorry, brother. But you know what they say about those who are chronically late.”

“No, I don’t think I do. Enlighten me.”

“They don’t give a shit.”

Damien scowls. Jimmy curls her hand over her mouth trying to hide a laugh and Damien turns his displeasure on her.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Jimmy says, the laughter still trilling in her voice. “It’s funny because it’s true.”

“Yes, well, if he’s going to be Head of House and you’re going to be second in line, then you both need to act the part.”

Bran and Jimmy share a look like, can you believe this guy?

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to penetrate the tight-knit relationship the three of them share, but I hope I can find a place on the edge at the very least.

There’s something to envy about what they have and it immediately makes me miss Sam.

It feels like a year since I spoke to her last.

“Let’s get the fun part over with,” Damien says and rises from the table. “Come to the dais.”

Bran looks at me. His hand is still at the small of my back, very clearly an act of possession, and it makes me flush inside and out.

“I won’t be long,” he says to me.

“I’ll be okay.”

“Behave,” he warns me, with a glint in his eyes.

Some distant, dark thought comes to mind that if I don’t, he’ll punish me for it, and he’s been oh-so-clever with his punishments.

“Mouse,” he says, nostrils flaring, a rumble in his voice.

He can smell me, smell the first hint of my desire.

“Sorry,” I say. But am I?

And then, in the middle of a Duval party with literally everyone in attendance, he kisses me on the forehead.

It’s a simple act but it speaks a thousand words.

Together, Bran, Damien, and Jimmy make their way across the ballroom. If the crowd parted for Bran, it practically gets to its knees for the three of them together.

Because I had always been dead set on leaving Midnight, I never paid careful attention to the vampire politics and the hierarchy.

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