Page 4 of Until the Heart Stops
A bond would forge between the pair, a sort of link, similar to if a human or Lycan drank the blood of a vampire. But it ran deeper than merely the ability to locate that individual, to feel their heartbeat. It was said you could hear each other’s thoughts, feel what the other felt, perhaps even more. But it had been a century since such a thing occurred. The Covenant, understanding how dangerous such a bond could be, had seen to that.
Eamon shot me a wink as he dipped beneath thevelvet, his hands spread wide as if to receive an offering. “Adrienne, my heart.”
I dropped the curtain, but not before her laugh slipped through, light and airy. A throat cleared behind me and I spun, a practiced smile on my face, only for it to fracture.
A vampire I’d never seen before leaned against my counter, soft brown curls framing his angelic face, but the grin pulling at the corner of his mouth was anything but ethereal.
“Madame Searah,” he murmured not in question, but in answer. His attention flicked across my face, lingering on my hair, a similar color and curl to his, which had slowly fallen from the twist at my nape perhaps as I’d helped snuff the flames with the others.
“Serang lan nauth, my lord,” I greeted, pressing my fingertips to my lips. “How may I be of service?”
An unknown vampire this deep within the Souzterain and after such events as tonight was a danger to be certain. So, I waited for this male to tell me what it was he wanted, rather than offering up our usual catalog of blood givers.
“Tell me, do you work this fine establishment each night?” His teeth snapped shut on thet, canines glittering in the candlelight, but the impression was not one of imposition. No, instead he appeared like an eager puppy waiting for a stick to be thrown.
“Almost each night,” I answered carefully.
There were nights my heart was too heavy to even sit on the stool and Noah forced me to stay home or else wander the new market on the Rachay. Those nights he called off from his patrols as a Vyenur and took an elixir to tamp down his demon magic so he could work the booth for me. But as time had passed the frequency of those nights had grown less and less.
The vampire male clicked his tongue, the grin on hischeeks appearing to be a permanent fixture. He ran a hand through his hair, the lush fabric of his coat parting to reveal just as beautiful a dark blue waistcoat, the same color as his eyes, with a golden chain draped across one pocket.
“And when you’re not working this fine establishment?” He gestured grandly around us before dropping his elbow back to the counter and leaning in. “What does such a beauty as you do in your spare time?”
I bit my lips together for a brief moment to stop the smile that threatened against my better judgement and shrugged one shoulder. “I wish I could tell you a sultrier tale, my lord, but I would be afraid to disappoint you.”
It didn’t seem possible, but his grin widened further while he leaned in close. “Oh, Madame Searah, I don’t believe such a thing would be possible.” His fingers tapped a rhythm on the faded counter before flipping over and curling in, as if beckoning my answer forward.
“You are too kind,” I answered. “And it is notMadame. I am unmarried, my lord.”
The vampire waved his hand as if dispersing smoke while his eyes glittered in delight. “If you use such an honorific again, I am afraid I might be sick.My lord.” He repeated the word in a lower octave, jutting his chin back to resemble a much older male before shivering in disgust. “I would think you to be referring to my maker with such a ti?—”
“Henry.”A deep voice snapped the name like a whip.
The male sighed with a theatrical roll of his eyes and jutted a thumb over his shoulder. “Or perhaps him.”
Thehimin question stepped from around Monsieur Fontenot’s booth, white-blond hair tied back at the nape of his neck and spilling over one shoulder. He was tall and leonine, broad shoulders stiff and hands clasped behind hisback. A muscle feathered in his moon-pale jaw as he leveled his gaze on the male at my booth, who I assumed was Henry.
“Callum, come meet Mademoiselle Searah,” Henry called, turning on an elbow to look at him.
The vampire, Callum, was finely dressed, even finer than Henry, a deep green roquelaure flipped over one shoulder of a black velvet jacket and waistcoat. But he did not approach. His attention flicked from Henry, to the ruined building before him, and back again with sharp gray eyes while he tapped a silver-tipped walking stick against the cobblestones.
“He doesn’t even need that walking stick, you know,” Henry muttered under his breath.
“I heard that,” Callum snapped.
Henry twisted back to me with a wink. “He’s got great hearing.”
Callum pinched the bridge of his nose with a black-gloved hand. “Tonight is not the night. Say goodbye, Henry.”
“Goodbye, Henry!” he exclaimed, reaching for my hand to brush his cool lips against my knuckles. “And farewell to you, Mademoiselle Searah. Perhaps one day I will learn what it is you do in your free time.”
Callum cursed quietly, but I could just make out his muttered“Goddess strike me”before he wiped his hand across his mouth. All the while his gray eyes remained fixed on Henry, the grip on his walking stick so tight I wondered how it did not snap. Were these two friends? It did not appear that they were lovers or mates, but perhaps they were. Opposites did tend to attract.
“It will keep me up through the daylight, I’m afraid.” Henry stumbled away from the counter with a theatricalhand over his heart. “Tell me now or I will never find my rest, Mademoiselle.”
“Books,” I answered with a soft laugh. “I like to read books.”
Henry gave a great sigh of relief, turned to his friend and clasped him on the shoulders, shaking him once. “Books, do you hear that, brother? I find myself relieved and titillated all at once.”
