Heather Long - Waiting in the Wings

“Our boon is Kristina Casere’s freedom from the curse and lease held by Andrew, Prince of Las Vegas. Her placement in the Midnight Mystery Lounge and her contract as a dancer.” A snap of fingers crinkled the air, and Kristina exhaled a startled breath. She leaned against Richard, her legs buckling, and he caught her.

Her fangs appeared and the starry black of her eyes deepened. Hunger struck in the same breath, and he didn’t hesitate to bite his own wrist and hold it to her mouth. She latched on, almost desperately. The connection sizzled to life, and the hard pulls of her sucking filled him with delight. She was still too underfed, but the curse was broken. His blood was more than strong enough to slake her—particularly after she’d drunk from him the night before. And since he’d fed up for the occasion.

Their witnesses served as his only resentment. The intimacy of the moment should have been reserved for a more private location, but her safety and well being overrode his need for seclusion. Holding her closely, he dared any of them to comment, but they waited patiently.

It was Kristina who halted her feed, lapping at his wrist with sensual little licks until the wound closed. She let out another ragged little breath and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Always.” Forever and always, his body and soul were hers to command.

“And thank you.” She leaned her head against his shoulder tiredly. They needed to wrap this up. She needed rest and he needed to make arrangements for transport.

“Your offer?” He turned an expectant eye on their judges and hosts.

The magic settled over him like fine mesh netting. He recognized the geas and didn’t fight it. Kristina barely stirred.

“The identification of Marguerite DuBois’ crimes leaves us an Overseer short. We would extend an invitation to you, Richard Casere, Prince of New York, to join us in oversight. Your abilities, your intelligence, your indomitable will would serve us all well.”

Of all the offers he’d expected, that was not even on his list. He stared at the creatures. The Overseers exerted incredible global influence, even in cities where they held no property. Offending them was considered the greatest of crimes, their punishments were whispered like tales of boogeymen in the dark to quiet irascible youths. The money associated with the facility, the power at their fingertips—it surrounded them everywhere in the casino. One could even argue the fanatical devotion of their gambling addicts increased their reach.

The offer tempted.

Kristina stirred against him and he looked down at the most precious being on the planet. “Would she stay with me?”

“As Overseer, you would create your own terms. Your bride is your own.” It wasn’t exactly an answer.

“Richard?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Fuck no.”

He laughed and kissed her nose. “As you wish.” Still amused, he glanced at the gray figures. “We must respectfully decline your most generous offer and further, deem the matter of offense against my bride settled. You will have no quarrel with New York.”

The Overseers took the news well enough—they vanished. The doors opened behind them, and he swept Kristina up into his arms.

“I want to go home,” she tucked her head to his shoulder.

“As soon as I can call a car for us, darling.”

“And I want to invite Minion to New York.” Kristina yawned. “So we can go shopping.”

“Anything you want.”

“Hmmm.” Her smile took on an almost satisfied purr. “I could get used to this.”

“Good. Because I plan to spoil you, so you will never run away again.”

Her eyes slitted open to stare at him. “Even if you’re a blockhead?”

“Especially when I’m a blockhead.”

“Deal.”

He pressed the button for the lobby and snuggled her closer. No matter what else happened, Kristina was his again.

All was right with his world.

New York, One Week Later

“So you like it?” Richard raised his arm as his bride twirled on their walk through the main doors of the Casere building. He maintained offices on several floors and allowed other vampires leases for apartments or businesses. The top three floors belonged to him and Kristina—their New York palace.

“I haven’t decided. I want it to have that cozy, yet exotic, dark, yet colorful atmosphere—more speakeasy than the girls are easy.” She skipped along beside him, her black boots clicking on the marble floor.

“We have plenty of properties to look at, and if you can’t find the one you like, we’ll build one.” He grinned.

She sprinted ahead and pressed the elevator button and beckoned him closer with a crook of her finger. He bent his head to hers—their mouths meshing together in a sweet kiss—and sighed. The trip home from the Arcana Royale was wildly uneventful, just the two of them making love every chance they could, and Kristina feeding more than she had since he’d turned her, but she glowed with vitality.

Her reunion with Pandora turned into squeals of laughter and shopping—which he was more than happy to indulge. Malcolm brought him up to speed on matters of business and helped him identify two lieutenants to shoulder the day-to-day burdens, freeing his time to spend with Kristina. He also instituted a no working after midnight rule. If his bride wanted to go somewhere, they went.

“Does it seem weird to feel like newlyweds again?” she murmured against his ear.

“Not at all. I am definitely the happy groom. We can even get married again if you like—invite anyone you want.”

The corner of her mouth quirked upwards and she slid a sideways glance at him. “I take it a Las Vegas chapel is out of the question?” The teasing glint in her eyes promised she wasn’t serious, but he nodded gravely nonetheless.

“Not even a remote possibility—I would rather live in sin.” The doors opened to their penthouse, and she danced out ahead of him. He followed, hands in his pockets and enjoying the whimsical joy she exuded.

“Speaking of sin…no more meetings tonight?”

“Just the quick check in with the boys, and then I’m all yours.”

“Perfect.” She made a show of looking at her watch. “My next performance begins in exactly thirty minutes. Don’t be late, or I’ll get started without you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She sashayed up the stairs, and his body tensed. Her last show had left him unable to walk for a day. One could only hope the encore left him similarly incapacitated.

Activating the security system, he stepped back into the elevator and rode it down to his private offices. The rooms were dark, and only a handful of his most trusted guards led by Anton and David remained in attendance, both of whom straightened as he exited the elevator.

“Is it here?” he asked.

“Arrived an hour ago, sir.” David set off ahead of him while Anton flanked him.

Even in the privacy of the building they maintained a discreet watch over him. A dozen others had drifted with him and Kristina on the streets earlier, but maintained a greater distance to give the princess the private time she craved.

A large trunk sat squarely in the middle of his office. Half-dozen vampires ranged around the bolted monstrosity. He walked around to the front and studied the seals. They were intact.

“Open it.”

The men took turns hauling off the chains and freeing the locks. When the lid flipped open, Richard smiled down at the bound and gagged Andrew. He was pale, but hardly emaciated. A week of incarceration hadn’t even begun to desiccate him.

“Good evening. Welcome to New York. I owe you for about fifty years of hospitality.” His smile grew. “I truly hope you enjoy your stay. I know I will.”