Page 111 of Samhain Savior
“Don’t get it twisted,mon ami. You and your entire nest exist here at my fucking pleasure. The only reason you’re even breathing that sweet Louisiana air is because I fuckingallowit.” Arnaud swallowed, his face going pale—well, paler. “Now, you’re going to step away from the door and allow me and my friends to pass, or I will drag you and every single one of your blood sucking pals out of this house and stake your sorry asses deep in the bayou. Sunrise’ll come, and there’ll be no one to hear you scream, ya?”
“Oui.Oui, of course,” he stammered, stumbling back and sweeping one arm toward the double wide door that led into the house. “Apologies, madame. TheUmbra Fratrumis always welcome in the House of Dubois.”
“Fucking right,” Mex huffed, leading us inside and not sparing the vampire butler another glance.
Archer guided me through the entry way, his hand on my lower back as we followed Mex, and I had to work to keep my jaw from hanging open.
Because a party at the Dubois Estate was like nothing I had ever seen before.
The music throbbed, the violin screeching in a way that was almost angry, and while there was candle light, it was apparently only in the windows, as the rest of the rooms were shrouded in near-darkness, glowing with soft, modern lighting in various colors.
We moved through the house, the sound of voices ebbing and flowing as we drifted from room to room. Once again, there were people grouped in clusters, twos and threes huddled against walls or in door ways, their mouths fused together as their hands clutched and grasped, bodies undulating to the music in a way that I knew wasn’t just dancing.
In one corner, a woman leaned back against the wall, her head thrown back and her eyes closed in what appeared to be ecstasy. At first I was confused by her behavior—at least until I noticed the way her skirt shifted, the fabric rippling as the man on his knees moved beneath it.
Blushing, I looked away, only to be greeted by the sight of another woman, this one holding a thick chain in one hand. At the other end of that chain was a kneeling man, his heavily muscled body on display, his chest and arms coated with a thick pelt of what appeared to be fur. As I looked, I noticed his body was littered with several wicked-looking scars, some old, some very fresh, as though they had been made only tonight and were just beginning to heal. Concerned, I snapped my gaze to his face, surprised to see that he was decidedly animalistic looking; his facial features were distinctly lupine, with an elongated nose and upward-tilted eyes. Even his ears were slightly pointed at the tips and covered in a light dusting of his dark brown fur.
As I stared, his nose wrinkled, as though he’d smelled something unpleasant, and his wolf-like face suddenly whipped in my direction, those golden eyes zeroed in on me.
“Archer,” I whispered, trying to be subtle. I had no idea why his attention was suddenly on me, but, while his regard was intense, I didn’t think it was malicious.
More curious.
“Is that….?”
“A shifter?” Archer finished, sparing the naked, chained man on his knees barely a glance. “Yes. Vampires take avery twisted stance on old grudges.” Moving us through that room and toward the next, Archer continued. “There was a war in Europe many, many years ago. Vampires won, barely, but they’ve never let the shifters forget it. There’s probably a fighting pit near by. The fucking bloodsuckers like to pit their pets against each other.” He shook his head, clearly disgusted. “Those fights are to the death.”
His words made me unaccountably sad; the longstanding fight between vampires and shifters reminded me of the centuries-long divide between witches and demons. Two sides who were only still fighting because it seemed like what they had always done.
Glancing back over my shoulder, I gave the proud looking shifter one more look before he vanished from sight, wondering if old grudges could ever be forgotten.
“Uh, boss?” Vine asked, licking his lips as he peered into one of the parlors, eyes wide and hungry. “I’m just gonna go, uh, scout.” He finally finished. “Yeah, scout. Really make sure the place is secure, you know?” Without waiting for a response, Vine darted off, disappearing between the party guests like smoke.
“Remember why we’re here, Vine,” Archer called to his retreating form.
Vine only held up a hand in a dismissive wave, causing Archer to growl in frustration.
“I got him,” Corson sighed, placing a hand on Mal’s shoulder. “Come on. You can help me wrangle our resident party-hound. Make sure he doesn’t start a faction war because he can’t stop thinking with his dick.”
I let out a startled giggle as they vanished into the crowd, wondering just how much trouble Vine could cause at what was clearly revealing itself to be a vampire sex party.
Looking at one woman, a human, held tightly between two men, I could see that her head was thrown back, one arm curled around the neck of the man behind her as she writhed against the other. The man in front was bent low, his mouth attached to the swell of her breast, sucking as she moaned. When she wove her fingers into his hair and pulled, he moved in for a kiss, and it was then that I noticed the twin puncture marks on the pale flesh of her breast, and the blood that dribbled down his chin, smearing across her lips when she kissed him. The second man gripped her chin, turning her back to face him, and he licked the blood of her lips before devouring her with a carnal kiss.
It was grotesque and erotic and I felt my own nipples peak in response to their actions.
“Careful, witch,” Archer hissed, his mouth close to my ear. “You don’t want to draw too much attention.” When I offered only a confused frown, he added, “If I can smellyour arousal, I assure you that every hungry vampire in the nest can as well. I’d rather not have to kill them all tonight.” Giving my hip a squeeze, he growled, “But I will if I need to.”
I tried to come up with a response, something that was more than just a helpless whimper, but before I could formulate anything, Mex led us into the massive ballroom at the center of the house, and I could only stare in awe.
The room was huge, the high ceiling easily three stories, with rows of arched windows looking out onto the darkened gardens. Half a dozen chandeliers hung from golden chains, each filled with flickering candles, and on a balcony overlooking the room sat the musicians, their aggressive song crashing over the room as people danced.
The dancers themselves were moving in unison, twin rows of people moving together, twirling, then moving away, leaving with a different partner than they’d arrived with a second earlier. It was a well choreographed number, and I was shocked that everyone seemed to know the steps. Although, if the rest of the vampires were as old as Genvieve claimed to be, I supposed they had all lived in a time when court dances were popular. Watching them, the way their over-sized dresses swirled and flowed with the steps, each partner deftly avoiding stepping on the trailing fabric, I felt a stab of jealousy, wondering what it wouldbe like to be so confident in your own body, knowing instinctively that it would do what you wanted, almost without thought.
My own body had never been reliable, my magic failing me time and again, and then when it finally did show up, it was nothing like I’d ever hoped, becoming wild and unpredictable and wholly unhelpful in any way.
Figured, didn’t it?
As I watched the dancers, mesmerized by the music and the movement and the atmosphere as a whole, I felt a stirring in my chest, the magic inside me that had been bubbling softly in the background suddenly sitting up and taking notice.
