Page 62 of Blood Match

What should I do now? The responsible thing would be to tell Gran everything, get her advice. But a small, selfish part of me wants to keep this secret, to explore it on my own terms.

I take a deep breath, trying to center myself. Whatever I decide, I know one thing for certain – nothing will ever be the same again.

20

Chapter 20

Darick

Isit back in the buttery leather seat of Marcus’s luxury SUV, city lights flashing by as we glide through town. I flick my tongue over my lip yet again, seeking out the sweet tang of her blood. A drop. Just one drop. Not enough, and yet it brought with it a torrent of power that I’m beginning to crave.

No time for that now.

I have other things to worry about. I frown down at the invitation in my hand, the thick ivory-colored card marked with a familiar family crest. Gold foil gleams in the shape of an “M.”

“What are you up to, Lucien Marlowe?” A gathering at the Nocturne Lounge. It’s where the Assembly often gets together for their meetings. But that’s always in the private room at the back. Tonight, it seems Lucien has reserved the supper club area of the lounge for a social function.

A goddamn “social function.” And he’s invited me. Along with God knows who else.

I re-read the wording on the card, eyebrows pulling together. I hadn’t expected him to give up after our last run-in, but I hadn’t figured his next attack would come so soon, either.

“What the fuck are you up to?” I rub my jaw.

“Are you going to keep talking to yourself over there?” Marcus shoots a sidelong glance at me. “Or would you like to discuss this with me?”

It was his idea to drive through tonight rather than travel through the shadows as I prefer. He thought it would give us a chance to go over a gameplan. It’s probably a good idea. Plus, he likes to drive, so I guess it serves two purposes. He maneuvers the vehicle expertly through the streets, the powerful engine roaring as he puts his foot flat.

I sigh, turning the invitation over in my hands. “Lucien knows about the Bloodbane. He’s going to try to expose me to the others.” I haven’t raised this with Marcus till now, preferring to process the information for a while.

Marcus’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. “Shit. Are you certain?”

“He said it to my face. He’s just looking for a way to make it undeniable.”

We drive in silence for a moment, the weight of this revelation settling over us. Marcus finally breaks it. “We need a plan. Some way to discredit him before he can make his move.”

I nod, thinking through possibilities. “We could try to catch him in the act of something compromising. But he’s too careful for that.”

“What about allies? Who can we count on to stand with us if it comes down to it?”

I consider this. “Arabella, maybe. She’s always been fair. But even she might hesitate if there’s concrete proof against me.”

Marcus hums thoughtfully. “What about a preemptive strike?” He suggests. “We go to the Assembly first, admit to some minor symptoms but frame it as something you’re overcoming. It could take the wind out of Lucien’s sails.”

I mull this over. It’s not the first time he’s suggested this. It’s dangerous, but it might be an option. “It could work. We’d need to be careful about how we present it. Make it seem like a strength rather than a weakness.”

“And we’d need backup plans,” Marcus adds. “Ways to deflect or discredit any evidence Lucien might bring forward.”

I nod. “Alright. I’ll give it some thought…flesh things out.” We’re pulling up outside the entrance to the club; a valet runs forward to open the car door. I get out and straighten my lapels, waiting for Marcus to walk up beside me.

“Dress code said formal, you ass.” I frown at him. He glances down at his dark camo jacket and boots.

“This is formal. I’m wearing my good underwear.” He grins as he tosses his keys to the valet and strides forward.

Heading through the gleaming glass doors, we step into the Nocturne Lounge. The first thing that hits me is the smell. The cloying scent of expensive perfumes mingles with the faint, metallic tang of blood. The club pulses with energy, a mix of pounding music and the electric buzz of supernatural power. Crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow over the crowd, their light dancing off champagne flutes and bared fangs alike.

Marcus follows close behind as I make my way through the throng. Humans press close, their eyes wide with adoration and fear. I can smell their excitement, hear the quickening of their pulses as we pass. It once was intoxicating, this idolatry, the promise of blood…and anything else I wanted. But that was a long time ago. Now, they simply annoy me.

The main floor is a sea of beautiful faces. Vampires, eternally young and impossibly alluring, mingle with their human admirers. Women in clingy dresses and men in tailored suits sip champagne. Laughter tinkles, fake and forced. It’s a carefully curated image of vampire society – all glitter and glamor, with dark danger hidden just beneath the surface.

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