Page 26 of Fangs for the Memories
“I’m to take you to the Géllert,” he says, his voice like a sack of gravel.
I unwind the towel from my hair and put it on a nearby console table.
“Yes.”
He turns, his great stone wings almost filling the large hall, and I trot after him, down a grand staircase I recall from earlier.
Viktor pauses before going through the doors into the external courtyard.
“Wait here,” he rasps, lumbering through a door to his left which closes with a quiet click.
I stare up at the colored marble of the walls and the molded ceiling above me, hung with a huge electric chandelier.
Ferenc certainly lives in some opulence. Evidence of his criminal enterprises, no doubt.
“Hello there.” I turn at the sound of a male voice.
Lounging against one of the great marble pillars of the entrance atrium is a demon. A genuine demon, with the horns, the scarlet skin, and the wickedly pointed tail. He wears a designer suit, not bespoke like Ferenc’s, but still expensive.
“Hi,” I respond.
“I’m Kórnel,” he says.
“Grace.”
“Ferenc brought you here?”
“You’re very observant,” I say sarcastically.
He huffs out a laugh. “And you’re just what the alpha needs.”
The door to my left clicks again and Viktor fills the frame.
“Kórnel,” he growls, followed by something rapid in Hungarian.
The demon makes a face, but he doesn’t argue.
“I’ll see you later, Grace.” He smiles a demonic smile at me.
“No, you won’t. Because Grace belongs to the boss.” Viktor growls under his breath before he holds out one of his huge hands. In it is grasped a black coat. “Ferenc says your coat is not warm enough. This will be too big for you, but it’s snowing, so you’ll need it,” he says.
I take it from him and pull it on. It’s cashmere, warm, and soft. Of course, Viktor is correct, I’m drowning in it, but I catch a now familiar scent from the soft wool.
The coat is Ferenc’s. I’m not entirely sure what to think but before I get too bogged down in my whirl of thoughts, Viktor opens the outer door, and freezing air swirls in.
Outside, there is another massive black SUV.
“Get in,” Viktor rumbles. “The sooner we get this over this, the happier my boss will be.”
Ferenc
The last thing I want is to be away from Grace. The way my body reacted to her in the bath, the way she smelled, I could have mated her there and then had she been willing.
She is my mate. The bond which I wasn’t sure of snapped into place the instant my lips touched hers. It is not as I was told it would be, possibly because she is human, or just perhaps because every mate bond is different. Either way, Grace belongs to me. She will not be returning to stay at the Géllert, and I would rather she was never out of my sight.
But I have a bone to pick with Dominik Király, vampire king. Or a stake to drive home in the place his heart used to be.
My Maserati Mcpura snakes through the early evening traffic as snow continues to fall over the city. Dominik has never been particularly subtle, and his dwelling is close to Hero’s Square, in sight of the old castle I know he covets.
