Suzanne McLeod - The Cold Kiss of Death

We were in a lift; the foxed mirrored panels lining the sides gleamed with polish. I recognised the lift—I’d spent an uncomfortable twenty minutes in one just like it with the Earl when he’d still been London’s head honcho vamp and not the scattered ashes and star of my morphine-induced nightmares that he was now. That lift allowed VIP patrons to bypass the crowds to get to the private bar above the Blue Heart’s foyer, so it looked like we were still in the Blue Heart, although I wasn’t sure where. I checked the control panel and the small key in the lock and the dimmed lighting confirmed that the lift was shut down. We weren’t going anywhere until that key was removed, and until then no one could find us. I looked from my own wide-eyed reflection to Malik’s shadowed darkness behind me, both our images reflecting into the distance.

The myth about vamps and mirrors is just that: a myth. Although I had no doubt Malik could hide his reflection as much as he could hide anything else if he wanted to. I turned to face him.

‘The idea of a distraction was so we could escape,’ I said drily.

He gave me one of his impassive stares. ‘Leaving would not help us achieve our objective.’ The last of his shadows dissipated, leaving the blue veins standing out in stark relief under his pale skin.

‘And staying to get made into shish-kebabs by old Liz out there isn’t going to achieve much either.’

‘Elizabetta is a setback, but not an insurmountable one if we keep within sight of the other blood-families until matters are settled.’

‘You know, I’m really beginning to hate being moved around like some pawn on your own bloody chess board,’ I muttered.

‘I did not want to involve you in this, Genevieve.’ His expression turned pensive. ‘I only wished to find Rosa and have her resolve this state of affairs with me. But we both agreed the necessity of bringing this business to a quick close. I did inform you it would be dangerous.’

‘Yeah,’ I sighed, accepting the rebuke. ‘I know, but I didn’t think they’d try and kill you, just that there might be the usual vamp grandstanding.’

‘But they fight to gain a sidhe’—in other words, me —‘as their prize. I am the obstacle to them accomplishing that, so of course they will use any excuse to try and kill me.’

When he said it like that, it sort of made sense. ‘But you said no one would go against you?’

‘And none would if I were at my full strength and there were no benefit, but while I am depleted like this, they can smell the weakness in me.’ As he pushed back the wing of black hair I saw a slight tremor in his hand. ‘As Elizabetta said, if I were to die before Rosa bowed to my hand, she would be left vulnerable, and you would be ripe for the picking.’

‘I don’t understand that.’ I frowned, unease slipping down my spine. ‘Why does Rosa doing the fealty thing make a difference? I mean, they can still kill you both, or us both afterwards, can’t they?’

‘Rosa has gained her autonomy. Under our laws, should anyone desire her property, they would have to challenge her and defeat her before witness. If one of us gives up our autonomy, then it is our master who takes up the challenge.’

‘Yeah, which brings us back to Square One,’ I sighed. ‘They’d have to challenge you, and old Liz looks like she’s ready to go for it.’

‘No, not me,’ he said quietly. ‘The Autarch.’

‘What?’ Shock and fear and disbelief sliced through me. ‘You mean that if Rosa bows to you, I effectively become the property of that psychotic sadist again?’

‘It would seem that way—’

I grabbed handfuls of his jacket. ‘I am not going back to him, do you understand me?’ I spat out. ‘You had your chance at making me and you threw it away. Try it again, and I will kill you, or anyone else who tries, or I will kill myself. I will not become Bastien’s property. Not. Ever. Again!’

He covered my hands with his own and my fear receded under his icy touch.

‘Genevieve.’ His voice was soft, insistent. ‘Calm yourself. I said it would seem that the Autarch would be the one to challenge over your ownership. It is believed that I still owe him my oath.’

‘But you told me once’—when I’d thought he’d come to take me back to the Autarch—‘that you hadn’t called him master for the last twenty years,’ I said, jerking my hands from his icy hold, rubbing them together to warm them. ‘And stop manipulating my reactions like that.’

‘I apologise. I wished only to assuage your fears.’ He inclined his head. ‘It is true that I do not call Bastien master any longer, but publicly it still suits us both that the blood-families think I bow to him. It boosts his status that others think he can force me to his hand, and I do not have to concern myself with challenges from others. And all would think carefully of his displeasure before attempting to assassinate me.’

‘Slight problem then! Old Liz doesn’t seem too worried about his displeasure just now.’

‘She no doubt thinks that if she could court the Autarch’s favour by offering you to him, he would take expediency’s hand and congratulate her on my removal,’ he said calmly. ‘Of course, she may believe, like the others, that sidhe blood brings with it enough power that she could survive any challenge, including his.’

‘Let me get this crystal-clear.’ I narrowed my eyes. ‘Once Rosa is seen to have done this bow, all the other vamps will think I belong to the Autarch except him and you?’

‘That is so,’ he agreed.

‘So if he wants me back, he has to challenge you, or you can give me to him?’

‘Yes.’

My gut contracted as I briefly wondered if Malik would fight for me if challenged, or just hand me over if the Autarch came calling. Then I decided it wasn’t something I wanted to worry about right now. I had more immediate fears, one of which was getting out the other side of this mess alive. And the vamp leaning tiredly against the side of the lift didn’t look like he could swat a kitten, let alone another vampire swinging a five-foot blade, so I wasn’t sure how useful he was likely to be.

I pursed my lips and asked the question that was bothering me. ‘If you knew Liz or someone might have a go at you because you’re weak, why didn’t you feed before coming here?’

‘None who have already gained their autonomy would offer, and I am unable to feed on those that belong to another blood-family, without their master’s permission. Hence the blood-tithe I requested.’

‘But there’s plenty of free-range junkies wandering around in Sucker Town—I mean, it’s not like they all belong to someone, is it?’

‘My lineage is that of revenant, Genevieve; you know this. I feed only on other vampires. If I feed directly from humans it could endanger too many lives, either through my own needs, or if I were to inadvertently pass my version of the Gift on to them. That is the curse that Elizabetta hoped to awaken.’

Revenants are consumed only by their need for blood; their lust is never fully sated. Malik’s past words came back to me, then I recalled what he’d said to Elizabetta when she was goading him to bite me. If I have truly embraced my curse, you would have me start a bloodbath .

‘You mean you never bite a human?’ I said, stunned.

‘Very rarely, and never when I am as depleted as this.’

‘So the only way you can feed is if they give you permission? ’

His eyes darkened. ‘It is the only way. Anything else is not honourable.’

The various ramifications of that barrelled into me like a stampeding hoard of goblins. Was that why he’d only ever sunk fangs into my hand, or my lip, and never my throat? Was that why he hadn’t fed from me? What happened if they let him starve? Would he turn back into some sort of bloodthirsty monster and go on a killing spree? Never mind he was dependant on those he knew would kill him if they could? Other questions crowded in but I couldn’t even begin to untangle them. Instead something else Elizabetta said raised a tentative thought in my mind.