Page 9 of On Wings of Blood

“Are you all vampires?” I hurried to keep up with him. I was tall for a woman, but he was much taller. He took long strides. “The soldiers, too?”

“Not all but some of them,” he answered. “Lucius is, if that’s what you’re wondering. You should be silent now. You won’t like what happens if you aren’t.”

“I’m surprised you don’t wish to keep me on your leash, my lord,” I muttered under my breath. “Like yourotherwomen.”

He didn’t take the bait.

As we passed through the huge ornate iron doors into the blackstone keep, our feet touched white marble floors. I glanced down at myself. My feet were bare and dirty. I wore trousers and a tunic a soldier close to my size had reluctantly donated. The cloak around my shoulders suddenly felt like a much-needed shield and I pulled it tight, resisting the urge to raise the hood over my tangled hair.

I sniffed myself gingerly, then wished I hadn’t.

I stank like a rotting corpse.

We stepped into the heart of the chamber.

Above us, thousands of candles glowed in iron candelabras hung high overhead.

A vast platform stretched out at the far side of the room. A line of people stood upon it, mostly dressed in red or black. Many of their garments were trimmed with silver or gold. They looked regal and powerful.

A man sat in their center on an elegant chair of carved stone, striking in clothes of crimson velvet. There was no crown upon his head. Still, I was reminded of the throne room of the Rose Court back home.

Below the platform, the vast room was packed to the brim with a massive crowd. As we entered, the throng parted, letting us pass through the center.

Hushed murmurs rose from around us. I listened to the subdued chatter, catching a few insults cast my way.

Let them look. Let them stare. I had no intention of remaining in this place long.

I kept my head up, striving to match the prince’s stride step for step, even though it meant taking two steps for each of his.

Abruptly, I was pulled to a halt.

I yelped before I could stop myself as a hand gripped my hair and yanked so hard I fell to my knees on the floor. A womanlooked down at me, her face gloating as she wrapped her fingers around strands of the hair she had ripped from my head.

Instantly, the prince was by my side, snarling even more ferally than he had done at Lucius back in the courtyard. His cloak swept around me like a bat’s wings as he pulled me to my feet.

“Hands off,” he growled. “No one touches her.”

His voice echoed loudly off the stone walls.

A hush descended over the crowd. I glanced at the raised dais. The people standing on it were observing us intently. No one seemed interested in intervening.

The woman who had yanked my hair was well-dressed. Gold rings covered her hands and rubies hung from her ears. For a moment, she looked taken aback. Then her expression turned peevish.

“A few strands of hair. I didn’t harm her,” she protested. “We all know the stories. You can’t keep her all to yourself, my prince.”

I watched as she tried to summon an obsequious smile and failed spectacularly.

I glared at her, furious. “Bitch,” I whispered as I shook myself off.

“Give them to me. The hairs.” The prince held out his hand to the woman. His voice was cold. “Now.”

Muttering under her breath, the woman stretched her hand out and I saw some long strands of red disappear into his palm.

I watched as the prince pocketed my hair. I wondered what he’d do with them. Tie them to his bed as a keepsake perhaps? I would have snickered if the thought wasn’t so abhorrent.

I looked around at the people gaping at me as if I were a menagerie animal and bared my teeth. The chattering resumed, even more loudly than before, but I didn’t care.

I might not have fangs like they did, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t pretend to be the most dangerous thing they’d ever seen.

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