Page 64 of The Star's Sword

“Wine,” Zadis said. “Lots of wine to make you nice and charming.”

“Not a bad idea,” Mark said, leading us up the stairs and taking a right, into what looked like a smaller conference room.

He led the three of us in and then reached back to shut the door behind us.

I looked up to see a room even more luxurious than the ballroom downstairs. The vampires here were all dressed immaculately, in gowns and jewels and formal wear that would have made a king blush.

I could feel power from each of them, see their lips roll back over their fangs as I passed.

There were the elder vampires, notable for their luxurious trappings, and then other party-goers, all wearing their best.

Across the room, I saw a familiar tall, blond head atop an elegant, willowy figure. She was holding a crystal goblet full of a blue liquid and talking to Simon.

Simon was wearing his typical vampire tux, and holding a glass of something red. Blood maybe?

I hadn’t realized he would get here before us.

He looked over, sensing me watching, and raised a hand of warning, just as I saw Vasara roll her eyes in my peripheral vision.

As Mark ignored the titters of the crowd, he pulled us over to the drink table, where there were three large bowls of punch. One red, one blue, and one green.

“Don’t drink the green one,” Mark muttered, turning to all three of us.

“Why?” I asked.

“Just trust me,” Mark said.

“What are these?” Zadis asked, as a group of female vampires studied him appreciatively while he looked over the large, crystal punch bowls. “Is that Drorren punch?”

Mark nodded. “Both celestials and vampires like the taste of it.” He pointed to the red. “That is fruit punch, despite the color. And that?” He looked at the green, then rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, don’t take it.”

“How am I supposed to get this guy to loosen up then?” Zadis asked, motioning at Samael, who was already looking ready to square up in a fight with another male vampire who was glaring at us.

In a second, his wings would flare in a warning, and then who knew what would happen?

Sam’s huge body was tight, muscles tensing beneath his outfit, and I slid an arm around his waist and felt him immediately turn to me and attempt to calm himself down.

“I’m an incubus,” he said. “So I can feel what people want, even if I don’t want to.” He looked at me, a muscle ticking in his taut jaw. “Cleo, the things they think about you.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “It’s going to be fine.”

“A little tense, is he?” Mark asked, one of the few people who could make Samael look smaller by comparison. He reached into his vest and pulled out a silver flask with ornate silver decoration in the form of a dragon. “Here you go. Dragon’s Breath wine.” He handed it to Sam. “It’s how I get through these parties.”

“I could fabricate something if I wanted to get drunk,” Sam muttered, folding his arms and glaring at the drink.

“Oh, come on,” Zadis said, reaching for the flask and unscrewing the silver knob on the top. “I’m sure Mark here knows how to party. Let’s try it.”

I eyed Mark suspiciously, but he just shrugged.

“Take it or not,” he said. “I’m trying to help. Having your mate glaring at everyone like he wants to kill them isn’t really going to help things.” The vampires around the room were already beginning to go quiet and move to the edges, avoiding us.

Sam took the flask from Zadis, sniffing it, as Mark moved in front of our group to address the room.

“May I introduce you all to Cleo and her two consorts.”

“Zadis and Sam,” I said nervously. “They aren’t my consorts.”

“Trust me,” Mark muttered. “Her consorts, Samael and Zadis.” He jerked Samael forward. “Samael you all know. Infamous ninth-realm slayer. Zadis is a prince of the fae, resurrected with demon power.” Mark folded his arms, looking pleased. “Impressive companions, are they not? Just another reason Cleo is quickly becoming my top pick for the Morningstar.”

---