Page 4 of Redeemed
Connor gives me a confident nod and I square my shoulders. Only one way to find out.
A gender-indefinite person answers our knock, and Connor speaks with authority. “We’re here to see the Viscount Baltinglass.”
I stand at Connor’s side, silently envying the crocheted outfit our greeter is wearing. Their cropped top and low-slung trousers are made of flowered granny squares that hug their slim body. I’m studying the pattern when Connor’s elbow brings me back to the present.
“Your name,” he says tersely.
“Sorry.” I shrug at Granny Squares. “I’m David Collins, and that’s a cool”—I wave my hand in their direction—“outfit.”
Granny Squares smiles absently. “No need to butter me up. Lord Baltinglass instructed me to let you in.”
I give another shrug. Some people can’t take compliments. Granny Squares stands aside, pulling the door open wider. I take that as an invitation and beat Connor across the threshold. My ears pop, as if there’s been a sudden change in cabin pressure. I glance at Connor, who raises his eyebrows slightly. Must have spells in place to keep out the riffraff. I just hope those spells let us pass if we need to make a quick exit.
We pause and wait for Granny Squares to close the door. They hurry past without even a glance. We follow because we don’t have many other options. No effing way I’m going to wander around a vampire’s lair without an escort. Besides, if I’m lucky I’ll be able to ask Granny Squares where they shop.
They stop in front of a closed door, turning to face us with one hand on the knob. “Lord Baltinglass and the others are downstairs. Be careful. The light is poor.” They stand aside, open the door, and wave us through.
Connor goes first. I let him get a couple steps down, then follow. Granny Squares is right. The light is shitty. I reach for a wall to steady myself and behind me, the door slams.
The shitty light goes out. I scramble for the door, but it’s locked.
“Hey!”
Chapter Two
Trajan
I TEXT SHEENA to tell her I’ll meet her at Ralph’s. She’s done at The Club, so it was a quiet night or she’s left the bartender in charge. It could be either, even on a Tuesday night. I’m regularly surprised how often people want to get tied up and whipped in the middle of the week.
Retracing our route to the grocery store on foot gives me the chance to shake off the bad feelings that have been torturing me since I rose this evening. Jacques has been whispering in my ear, moment by moment pointing out ways I could accomplish the task he set for me.
Connor turns his back, and Jacques whispersStab him.
Connor smiles, and Jacques whispersCut out his heart.
Connor slides into my lap, baring his throat to my fangs, and for the first time all night, I’m able to shut Jacques up.
The peace doesn’t last, but at least I feed without draining Connor dry.
I dress for the night: a dark suit with a white button-down, top three buttons open, no tie. I find a red pocket square and put on my gold ring. The nugget’s about the size of an almond and in my mind, at least, it’s a symbol of my independence from Jacques.
I just wish I could claim that independence in his mind, too.
Sheena’s driving her black CRV. I climb in the passenger seat and we clasp hands.
“How’s it going?” she asks without letting go.
I squeeze her hand. “Rough.”
“I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
I almost laugh. “Nah. There’s nothing to say.”
We give each other another squeeze and let go. Sheena’s been my best friend for over fifty years. She’s an Amazon, the daughter of a priestess. She’s also the most popular Domme at my club, and when she’s not tying people up, she works as a bodyguard to the stars.
And there’s nobody—nobody—I’d rather have beside me in a fight.
“I’d like to go by my condo. We’ve been jumping from place to place, but the condo is pretty much a fortress. I want to kick Levy out and move us in.”
