“This way.” A servant dressed in a red satin pantsuit gestured toward a great arched hallway which led to the festivities.
Waverly did her best to remain calm as she stepped into the extravagant dance hall. As if hung on marionette strings, red pillar candles appeared to dance overhead. Perched above the crowd on a small stage, an orchestra played a classical version of What I’ve Done. Dressed in formal attire, partygoers danced in the center of the ballroom.
“Where are we going?” Waverly whispered, her eyes adjusting to the darkened room. “Is everything okay?”
“All is well,” Viktor assured her. “We shall see Thorn when he comes to us.”
“Comes to us?” she asked, fighting the anxiety that churned in her stomach.
“Yes, he will find us.” Viktor scanned the room and exchanged a knowing look with both his brother and the wolf. “Stay together.”
“You know it,” Greyson nodded.
“Let’s dance,” Viktor told her.
“Dance? Yes.” Her heart pounded in her chest as Viktor led her out onto the dance floor.
As they walked through a sea of people, Waverly stilled as a tall, lithe woman, dressed in black latex, leaned toward her and sniffed her hair. “Hmm…delicious toy you’ve brought.”
“She’s mine.” Viktor released a low growl, his fangs dropping. The vampire bared her teeth at him, and slowly disappeared into the crowd.
Stay calm. Stay calm. You can do this. What in the ever-loving fuck?
“Dance with me.” Viktor smiled at Waverly as he pulled her into his embrace.
The warmth of his body on hers calmed her soul. The music, eerily rhythmic, grew louder as they danced. As she looked to the others, she caught sight of them staring.
“Look at me,” Viktor commanded.
Waverly’s eyes locked on his, her pulse racing. With his fangs still visible, he leaned in, and brushed his lips to hers. As if they were the only two people in the room, she kissed him. His tongue swept into her mouth, and her body flared with desire.
As they danced, Waverly lost all sense of time and place. She gasped as his fingers tugged her dress upward and teased her bottom. With a sudden crescendo of violins, the music abruptly ended. He tore his mouth from hers, leaving her breathless, craving his touch.
“Tonight, I will have you,” he promised.
“Viktor,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“Viktor, indeed,” a male voice exclaimed from behind her. Startled, she spun around but Viktor held a firm hand around her waist.
“Thorn,” he greeted. “Lovely party.”
“Your home is stunning,” Waverly managed as the mysterious demon came into view.
“You brought a human,” Thorn mused. “Interesting choice.”
“Can we move to somewhere more private?” Viktor asked.
Thorn laughed. “Why, of course, my old friend. Come. I have just the place for us.”
Waverly struggled to compose herself. Flushed and palms damp, she took a cleansing breath, ignoring the stares. Jesus, she’d almost dragged Viktor back to the limo. Her body still on fire from his touch, she hadn’t cared who’d seen them, obsessed with his all-consuming kiss.
Viktor’s arm dropped from her waist, finding her hand. As he leaned toward her, his lips grazing her ear, she dug her nails into her palm in an attempt to distract herself from the ache between her legs. “We shall finish this later, pet.”
This? The desire to taste her ancient vampire would go unsated for now. But indeed, this, they would finish.
Aside from the occasional glance to Viktor, Waverly kept her eyes forward as he led her through the crowd. Without showing an iota of fear, she walked beside him. She could feel the eyes on her, hear the whispers in the shadows. None of it would faze her in the moment. She embodied queen energy, drawing on her instinct to survive and the confidence that her vampire would protect her at all costs.
Waverly lifted her dress as they ascended an enormous wooden spiral staircase that led upward to a balcony. Once they reached the second level, she followed Viktor along an illuminated path. Inlaid twinkling red lights danced within the flooring, leading them to a cozy seating area.
“Come sit. We have a bit of time until the show begins,” Thorn told them.
Show? What show? Her pulse raced.
You’re doing fine, mo chroí. Waverly’s eyes widened, shocked she’d heard his voice. Easy, now.
“Here we are. I like to think of this as my private viewing area. At this point in the evening, I need a break from the riff raff. I’ve grown tired of the bland conversation and recycled stories. Please have a seat.” Thorn gestured to a set of eight intricately carved wooden chairs, each adorned with black leather cushions. He looked to Waverly. “Don’t be shy, dear. Come sit next to me.”
No fear. Waverly managed a smile and gracefully sat down, never taking her eyes off the good-looking half demon. “Thank you.”
“Quite a set-up you’ve got here. Dark but chic,” Viktor commented. He nodded to Greyson, who wore a scowl.
His brother grumbled as he took a seat. Rafe slid back into a chair and smirked.
“Greyson doesn’t seem impressed.” Thorn glared at the cantankerous vampire.
“My brother is adequately interested. He’s here, isn’t he?” Viktor told him.
“I suppose so, but we all know that he holds a grudge. It is a weakness of humans.” He looked to Waverly and back to Greyson. “And vampires.”
“Demons don’t have a soul, so what do you know about vampires?” Greyson spat out.
“Ah, he speaks.” Thorn gave an icy smile.
“My brother may be able to forget that you delivered that thing from Hell to Quintus. That Mao lookalike demon or whatever the fuck it was, but not me. That’s right. I heard all about it. You’re a sick fuck.” Greyson’s hands tightly gripped the chair arms. “I don’t know why Viktor even speaks to you.”
“I’m not always responsible for these things,” Thorn replied.
“Yeah, well, what about Camille? You took her to Hell, asshole.”
Waverly’s expression remained nonchalant. Viktor’s brother appeared to have a specific, personal issue with the demon. A woman? A human?
“Ah yes, I admit I did take her. But in fairness to me, you know I have no choice in these matters. The human made a blood contract. It was her time. It’s not as if I had a choice. It happened well before I gained my freedom to walk in this realm. I was in a different head space back then.”
“Camille didn’t deserve to go to Hell,” Greyson said. “She was working to recover her life.”
“I’m not in charge of these things. You know there’s a hierarchy. There are some things I’ll fight for, but not a woman who clearly made a deal with a devil. You know how this works.”
“She was a friend,” Greyson told him, anger in his voice.
“She belonged to a demon with a higher pay grade than my sexy ass. As I said, not in charge.” Thorn pursed his lips, staring at the vampire.
From out of the darkness, a topless woman with pierced nipples, wearing a slate blue taffeta skirt approached. With thick dark hair and striking beauty, she moved in silence as she attended to the guests.