you?”
Vivianne tilted her head forward, her expression hidden behind that ebony, wavy curtain of hair.
“Perhaps dinner?” Mike suggested. His voice had lowered, and there was a definite glint in the guy’s eyes.
“I think I’m going to puke,” Zane muttered. “Get me out of here.” Watching vamps flirt was about as much fun as being skinned alive, he was sure of it.
“I think dinner could be a good option,” Vivianne agreed evenly. “You can fill me in on anything else I’ve missed.”
“I’d be happy to fill you in,” Mike said, winking. Zane made a gagging noise. The guy was not subtle at all. “I’ll pick you up—seven?”
Vivianne nodded, then watched as Mike left the room, whistling. At least, Zane thought that’s what he was trying to do. It came out like a little wheezy whine.
“This is definitely hell,” Zane said, nodding. Watching these two vamps tap dance around a flirty little power play was beyond tedious.
Vivianne frowned, and Zane’s eyes narrowed. “Can you hear me, darlin’?” he asked, straightening up from the doorjamb to face her, excitement and hope flaring within him.
Vivianne stepped toward the door, her chin lifting as she flicked her hair over her shoulder—and into his face.
Zane flinched as a tendril caught him in the eye, his lips tightening, then he followed the vamp. “Your taste in men sucks. He can’t even whistle properly.”
Vivianne walked away faster. Zane was content to hang back and watch the swing of her curvy hips.
“How is everything else going, then?”
Vivianne finished applying the cinnamon-red lipstick and smacked her lips before turning back to her phone. She had her sister-in-law, Natalie, on an interactive call, and Natalie was cleaning a—Vivianne frowned.
“What is that?”
“It’s a sword,” Natalie answered. “I dug it up from a Peruvian ruin. How awesome is it?” Her sister-in-law displayed it proudly, balancing it on her palms and holding it up to the camera.
“How dirty is it?” Vivianne responded, grimacing.
Natalie shrugged. “Now, yes, but once I’ve finished with it, she’ll look good as new.”
“Speaking of good as new,” Vivianne said, “Everything is going fine.”
“Uh-huh. Did you visit the doctor?”
Vivianne averted her eyes. “I haven’t had time,” she murmured.
Natalie put the dirt-caked sword off to the side, and leaned closer to the screen. “You have to. You’re just putting it off.”
Vivianne frowned. She wasn’t used to someone speaking so plainly with her. Natalie was the only person, apart from her brother, Lucien, and her father, Vincent, who didn’t seem to cower or simper around her. No, the woman was incredibly genuine and caring, and she could totally see why her brother had fallen so completely, sickeningly in love with her. Still, it was annoying when not everybody swallowed the line you fed them. “I’m fine.”
“Do you still have shadowy vision?”
Vivianne had mentioned her issue with shadows in her peripheral vision to Natalie before her brother and sister-in-law had left Marchetta Manor. Natalie and her father did not get along. She couldn’t blame her. Vincent Marchetta had kidnapped Natalie for her strange blood—the same blood that had proven to be the vampiric cure against a werewolf bite, and what had ultimately saved Vivianne’s own life, neutralizing the lycan toxin that had slowly spread through her body and would have killed her. Vivianne’s father, Vincent, would have consigned Natalie to a lifetime of captivity as a blood donor if Natalie hadn’t busted free and Lucien hadn’t fought his father on it. To say the Marchettas weren’t playing happy family at the moment would be an understatement.
“No,” Vivianne lied. “All good.”
Natalie’s eyes narrowed. “Vivianne...”
“Natalie...” Vivianne responded in the same low, firm tone.
Natalie frowned as she gazed behind her, and Vivianne whirled. “What? Do you see something?”
“I’m not sure... I thought I saw...”
Vivianne turned back to the phone warily. “What do you see?” Natalie had a...gift. She could see ghosts, and Vivianne had been in awe when Natalie had told her some stories about spirits she’d spoken with. It would have been easy to chalk it up to her sister-in-law being a bit of a loon, but she’d seen Natalie morph into a cross-breed; part-vampire, part-werewolf, part-human—something that wasn’t supposed to exist, so she’d decided to have a little faith in her sister-in-law’s ghostly abilities.
Natalie squinted, then shrugged. “I get nothing.”
“A ghost?” Could that explain the sense of being watched, of not being alone...? Could it explain the deep, almost gruff voice she occasionally heard in her head and desperately tried to ignore?
Natalie shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said, then smiled in reassurance. “Don’t mind me, I’m just tired. So, tell me about this date!”
Vivianne pasted a smile on her face to hide her disappointment. If Natalie couldn’t see a ghost, then...it was all in her head. The visions, the voice... She swallowed. Maybe there was some permanent damage from the lycan toxin?
A werewolf’s bite was lethal to a vampire, and she’d been brutally attacked by Rafe Woodland, a stray, angry wolf. She should have died, if it wasn’t for her brother’s efforts to find a miraculous cure and the aid of an unusual witch. A vampire had never survived a lycan’s bite before. Nobody knew if there were any side effects to what she’d experienced. Maybe the toxin was coming back? She remembered the early stages: the agonizing, searing pain, the burning of her blood vessels as the corrosive throbbed its way through her body with every beat of her heart... The terrifying, petrifying hallucinations... Her fingers clenched at the torturous memories. She’d never given voice to that experience, hadn’t told anyone, not even her brother, how scared and alone she’d felt, trapped inside a decaying body. No, because that would be a weakness she could ill-afford as she reestablished herself as the reigning Marchetta Prime. She forced herself to concentrate on the conversation with Natalie.
“Uh, he’s one of the district guardians—”
“Do you like him?”
“Sure, he’s nice enough.”
“Nice enough?” Natalie rolled her eyes. “A shiraz is ‘nice enough.’ You’re talking about a guy. Is he gorgeous?”
Vivianne nodded. “He’s good-looking,” she admitted. Then she smiled. “He surprised me.”
“Why? You’re gorgeous, he’s
