likely from one of his kin.
Viviane had never bitten another vampire who was not Henri. The bite was very sexual, which had made her relationship with Henri unique. They’d never had sex. That he had respected her enough to allow her freedom, while both succumbed to the orgasmic swoon of her bite, was tremendous.
She would be bound to no man, vampire or otherwise. Yet she was not stupid. A patron was necessary to survival.
“You stand alone amongst the frippery tonight,” Constantine said. He placed a hand upon hers, which she curled about his forearm.
“I shouldn’t wish to be an oddity,” she said. “You don’t think I blend well?”
“You do, but your beauty blinds one and all to your true nature.” He paused before a velvet settee and Viviane tucked her skirts to sit. “Because I know what wickedness lives in your heart.” He leaned in and whispered aside her ear, “Wolf slayer.”
Spine stiffening, Viviane tightened her jaw. “It is not a title I admire.”
“But you should. The entire salon uses it with respect when you pass.”
“Only because you told them the tale of my encounter.” That it had already become a tale whispered amongst the throngs disturbed her.
“It puts you above all others. A strong, dangerous woman no man shall reckon with. Which reminds me, I have something for you.”
He slipped a ribbon from his sleeve. A curved white talon dangled from the length of blue velvet. Viviane touched it tentatively.
The sudden intrusion of warm metal brushing flesh startled her. Constantine stroked her cheek. One of his rings had sharp edges and she flinched, but it wasn’t from fear of being cut. All vampires felt the shimmer with contact, a glittery vibration coursing through their veins. It was the only way they could recognize their own breed unless they saw fangs or witnessed the other drink blood.
Was Hawkes really vampire? His otherness baffled her.
“From a werewolf,” Constantine said, confirming her suspicions. “One I slayed decades ago. This is the trophy I took. I want you to have it.”
“Oh, Constantine, I could not—”
“You must. It is a symbol of our similar spirits. We are both wolf slayers.”
Viviane sighed and clasped the dead relic. At least she’d the decency to wear facsimiles of hummingbird skulls. Yet she could not deny her macabre curiosity. Inspection found the talon to be like ivory, and the tip pin-sharp.
Yet what troubled her was his talk of werewolves.
“Henri was never cruel to a wolf,” she whispered. “He claimed no enemies.”
She wanted to learn more. Because something did not feel right to her. Who had been the wolf who murdered Henri? Was it a retaliatory move because she had slain the wolf in the country?
“Of course, Henri was kind to all,” Constantine offered quickly. “Too kind.”
“Do you think … Because of what I did?”
“Slaying the wolf? No, mademoiselle, a thousand times no. These things simply happen.”
The banal statement struck at her core. Constantine stroked her cheek again. The touch irritated more than comforted.
“For your reassurance, you must know I have already set my men to track the murderous wolf. Though Henri was not a member of tribe Nava, he was an honorary member. And we protect our own.”
If Nava were so protective of their own, Henri should not be dead, honorary member or not.
“His head will sit upon a spike in the Bois de Boulogne in no time.”
The city park was a sort of haven for Dark Ones after the prostitutes had left with their marks for the night. It was also the place where an example could be made of any who had thought to act against another tribe. Midnight executions were rare but not unheard of.
“Shall I tie it around your neck for you?”
“No.” She nestled the talon beside her breast, tucked behind the corset. “The ribbon doesn’t match my gown. But I promise I will wear it to the next salon.”
“That would please me immensely.”
She stifled a shiver to imagine pleasing this man. At this horrible moment she realized her future was tenuous.
“I wonder after your intentions?” she found herself blurting. Very well, so curiosity would kill this cat, or at the least, maim her. “Regarding your pursuit of me.”
“As I’m sure Henri told you—”
She put up her palm. “It is not something I can consider at the moment.”
Constantine audibly swallowed. “I understand. You and Henri were close. But marriage aside, you must choose a patron quickly. Henri’s blood is established in you,” he continued. “To take a new patron will require some … re-structuring. Time to adjust. You must be blooded anew.”
An emptiness eddied at the back of her throat. How much time did she have? She had only needed to drink from Henri twice a year. Yet she had felt his death as if he’d been ripped from her very soul.
“I will consider your proposition if you will show me how willing you are to have me in your life.”
“You’ve to ask me anything.”
“Understand, just because I am considering your proposal does not ensure that I will accept. But I find it would be extremely challenging, if not socially humiliating, to step under your patronage when you’ve already so large a harem. I feel I would become lost amongst the throngs.”
“They mean nothing to me, Viviane. I do not love any of them. My kin are there to serve a purpose.”
“Would I not serve that same purpose?”
“No, it would be different. Viviane, I love you.”
The hairs at the back of her neck prickled. What beasties snuck upon her heart?
She maintained decorum. “Then prove it. Send them away.”
“All of them?”
“Yes. Cease patronage to your entire harem.”
Taken aback, he thumbed the Van Dyke beard on his chin. “They would die without me.”
Viviane shuddered inwardly. She was only promising to consider his proposition.
“It shall be done,” he said.
ONCE RHYS TOOK A PERSON’S scent into his nose, he had it forever. A vampire, on the other hand, must be much closer, within hearing range to track the heartbeat of his victim. Thanks to his mixed blood, Rhys could track Viviane LaMourette anywhere in the city, if he desired.
That
