Page 50 of Cloak of the Vampire
I tensed. His words, his flippant way of saying the wordmagic, implied he was a Sacred Lord, like Ragnor. Meaning he had actual magic. “Is your magic tied to this painting?” I inquired, and when his black eyes landed on my hazel ones, I wondered if I should’ve kept my curiosity to myself.
He smiled wryly. “Yes, it is,” he said but didn’t elaborate. I was smart enough to not ask any more questions.
Just when I was about to leave him to it, he asked, “You are an artist, aren’t you?”
Momentarily tense, I turned to face him fully. “How do you know?” I asked, worried that he seemed to know more about me than I assumed he should have. Had he talked about me with Ragnor?
His eyes bored into mine as he stepped closer. “I can tell when someone appreciates art more than the average art enthusiast,” he replied, and his eyes dropped to my hands. He took them in his as he studied them deeply. “Though you lack the calluses of a true artist.”
“I’m not so good at the actual craft,” I told him, careful with what I shared, as I slid my hands away from his grip. “I do appreciate those who are, though.”
Atalon’s eyes returned to my face, searching it. “With the right mentor, you can always get better,” he said, and there was something in his eyes I couldn’t quite decipher. Something that made my spine grow stiff.
Silence stretched between us as he seemed to be waiting for me to say something, but when I didn’t, he nodded and said “Carry on, then” and walked away.
And I could finally breathe.
The rest of the tour at the Atalon League proved to be just as mesmerizing as the gallery had been. Workshops full of any and all art supplies—from the cheapest to the most expensive—were spread across the entire compound. Artwork hung in every corridor, and fine sculptures decorated each nook and corner. There were grand windows with projections of landscapes to give the place an airy, spacious vibe, and the vampires we passed all seemed like those art-college students I used to be so jealous of, with their clothes marred with paint, and their hair a mess of colors.
The cafeteria wasn’t as artsy as the rest of the place, though there were a few sculptures and portraits here and there. It was probably the most basic room in this place. Its layout was the same as the Rayne League cafeteria, but there wasn’t a dome here like back there; instead, arches supported the circular ceiling, and there were paintings there that could’ve easily dated back to the fifteenth century.
A large king’s table was prepared for our party, and we all sat down. Ragnor, Logan, Atalon, and the twins—who were Atalon’s Lieutenants, I learned—sat at one end of the table together, with both Atalon and Ragnor sharing the head position.
A few servers came over to take our orders and pour us O negative blood—a type that was considered exquisite since it was rare to harvest—tinged with a fifty-year-old cabernet sauvignon. Once the servers were gone, Atalon raised his glass for a toast and said, “For our continued, cordial friendship.”
Ragnor gestured with his own glass and clinked it with Atalon’s.
We all toasted silently and drank. The blood was mediocre at best, and the bitter wine didn’t add to the taste. I’d already found that AB negative was the most tolerable so far.
Everyone else seemed to think differently, though. They were downing their blood with obvious enjoyment, asking for a refill soon after finishing.
“Is it that good?” I asked Tansy. She was sitting next to me and downing her second glass with evident delight.
She turned to me, her gaze unclear. “Is anything really good?” she asked in her typical Tansy fashion. “Or is it what we were wired to think?”
I had no idea what the hell she was talking about, so I turned to my left where Cynthia was sitting and asked her the same question. She replied curtly, “Yes.”
After my skirmish with Bryce, all but Tansy had given me the cold shoulder. No one believed Bryce had harassed Tansy as I had claimed. Bryce, being one of the popular guys, played the victim with his friends, turning them against me—that is, if I hadn’t lost their favor already. It was a wonder I managed to get a reply from Cynthia at all.
Dinner passed in silence—at least at my end of the table. Tansy was daydreaming as she slurped her spaghetti. The others seemed to be doing the same. The rest of the table, however, was vibrant and noisy with chatter, laughter, and brazenness.
I was aware of someone watching me throughout the entire meal. The prickle on my cheek was hard to ignore. However, when I glanced sideways, trying to catch who was staring, no one seemed to be paying me attention. Ragnor was talking to Atalon; Logan was speaking to Zoey and her group, with the twin Lieutenants jumping in here and there; and the rest were either busy eating or talking to one another about this or that.
There weren’t many other vampires in the cafeteria, and those who did inhabit some tables were in their own worlds.
By the time we were parting ways with Atalon and his League, I still had no idea who’d been watching me during the entire dinner, and I began thinking it might’ve been in my head.
Until Atalon approached me as everyone exchanged departing pleasantries. He stood next to me and leaned over, his voice a soft murmur as he said, “If things don’t work out between Rayne and you, let me know.”
I whipped my head toward him, eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?” I half whispered, half hissed.
He gave me a grin that was borderline wicked, his eyes flickering in a way I didn’t like. “I’ve known your Lord for many years,” he said quietly. “He’s a master when it comes to keeping his cards close to heart, but he can’t quite hide it when his emotions are riding him hard.”
He suddenly stepped right in front of me and leaned down, his hands cupping my face. My heart lurched at the sudden move, and I completely froze, not sure how to handle what he was just doing. Atalon leaned forward some more until his breath was in my ear. “If looks could kill, I would be dead ten times over.”
My eyes shot to the side where Ragnor was speaking to the twin Lieutenants, and I found him staring at us like he was considering tearing Lord Atalon’s head off like he had done to Gus when he was full of Bloodlust. Before he could catch my look, I closed my eyes. “I’m not interested.”Either in you or him.
Atalon let me go and stepped back, his gaze roaming down my body and then back up. “If anything changes,” he said quietly, and this time, I could see the heat in his eyes. It made them glow a dark shade of crimson. “Let me know.”
