Page 95 of Of Flame and Fate
“Almost nine.”
“Nine?” I hadn’t planned to fall asleep, let alone sleep the day away. But following a breakfast fit for a Fate and his nanny, Johnny passed out in the bedroom, and I suppose I passed out on the couch. I reach for the phone on the coffee table, cursing when I realize I missed several texts from Gemini.
Agnes huffs. “Are you coming?”
“I have to text Gemini first,” I reply, tapping my screen.
“It is an insult to keep the master waiting.” She hisses when my fingertips continue to fly across the screen. “Do you want me to drag you there?”
I glance up. “Do you want me to set you on fire, or for my boyfriend to show up here with his pack and drop kick your front gate open?” I return to my message. “Don’t get your thong in a bunch. I’ll be with you in a second.”
She turns away in a huff. “Just so you know, Celia is my favorite.”
“I’m sure she’ll sleep better at night knowing that, Agnes,” I mumble. I know she hears me, even as she slams the door shut behind her.
You were sleeping?Gemini replies in a text.
Yes, sorry, I respond.
It’s only because I didn’t sense you were upset that I’m not already there, he texts back.
I don’t have to be there to know he’s growling.You were going to bust down the gates, weren’t you?
No.
Liar.
He replies with a sneer emoji followed by a bat and little trickles of blood. Second in Command or not, my mate is damn cute, even when he’s threatening to tear a vampire apart.
I’ll make it up to you later, I write.Off to meet Lady Aleksandr.
Be careful, he answers.
I freshen up in the bathroom and knock on Johnny’s door. I’m not sure what kind of hours a rock star keeps, but he stirs when I open the door. “Hey, you all right?”
He nods and rubs his eyes. “Yeah, a little disoriented, but okay.”
I lean against the doorway. “Misha invited us for dinner, but he wants to meet with me privately first. Why don’t you get a shower and clean up? The vamps will come for you when it’s time.”
He seems like he’s having a hard time moving. I’m not certain why until he meets me with those same sad eyes. “They’re still dead, aren’t they? Drake and everyone, that wasn’t a dream, was it?”
I glance down at the floor, wishing I could tell him otherwise. “No, Johnny, it wasn’t a dream.”
He nods in that heavy way he does when the world seems like too much. I start toward him, but then he swings his legs over the bed and marches into the bathroom.
I walk to the door and press my hand against the frame. I want to say more, and somehow bring him comfort. Yet when the shower goes on, I determine he’s already heard enough.
I leave him to his thoughts, and likely his sorrow, and step out of the guesthouse. The grounds are massive, surrounded by gardens most would kill for, not realizing how much blood was spilled to maintain them. I don’t mean the gardeners’, although knowing the naughty Catholics, I’m sure they’ve had a taste. I mean everyone the vamps have mowed down over centuries to gain power and expand their wealth.
A few years ago, when I was awesomely naïve, I used to think vampires were the Mafioso of the mystical world, in retrospect, there’s so much to these immortals, including what they’ve endured for eternal beauty and what they’re capable of doing to maintain their positions among the elite. These creatures aren’t dumb, they’re alarmingly cunning and cutthroat.
We rightfully feared them, except when Celia inadvertently returned Misha’s soul, one vampire in a sea spilling with blood emerged, baring the longest and most lethal fangs of all, and ultimately giving her his heart.
Vampires don’t have souls, at least, they’re not supposed to. Balancing life and death as he does, Misha will one day be unstoppable. So I don’t necessarily flounce into the massive 33,000 square foot, three story structure known as The House of Aleksandr. I strut with caution.
“Hello?” I announce. “Anyone home?”
“Merde.”