Chapter 6

Her feet brought her into the room without waiting for her permission. She still wanted to run, but her body wasn’t having it. It wanted to be there, in his presence.

Long black hair bound at the base of his neck, loose enough to show the elegant wave of it. His hairline curved down in the center and receded at either side, drawing attention to the high cut of his cheekbones. The soft jaw line made him more pretty than handsome, especially with his almost feminine lips. The ruffled collar and sleeves, the dark blue that looked like it was made of velvet.

Helena lifted her gaze to watch him finish the detached once-over he was giving her. Hands clasped at the base of his spine, he strolled over to the mahogany bar in the corner and poured himself a drink.

“You could do better than to emulate Candy, Helena. Trashy isn’t more grown up.” He lifted his glass in silent cheers.

She cocked a hip and let her gaze pass over him again. “And you could probably do better than renaissance Dracula.”

He chuckled. “But it’s such a classic look.” He poured another glass, walked towards her and held it out. When she took it, his eyes softened. “I suppose we all have reasons for our costumes. Candy has a liking for this one, don’t you, my dear?”

Candy looked from Helena to Alderic. “Do you guys know each other?”

“In a sense.” Alderic glided up to Candy’s side, took her hand and led her to a dainty settee, set midway between the bar and the door. “Close the door, Helena, so that we may show Candy how we know one another.”

Helena reached back towards the door, then stopped and shook her head. “No.” She gnashed her teeth together, the essence of the man’s power making her body and mind feel like it was stuck in sludge. “Candy, let’s go.”

Candy didn’t move. Helena grabbed her hand and tugged. A big chest filled her vision. She gaped up at the huge chauffeur and then backed into the room as he took a step forward.

The chauffeur tossed something to Alderic. Helena watched Alderic set her knapsack on a chair, unable to voice a protest as he unzipped it and pulled out the papers she’d stuffed inside to keep safe from prying eyes.

“Ah. So it’s Helena Sharpe. You come from a…notorious family Helena.” He held up a paper and cleared his throat. “‘And you will charge your sons to cleanse the earth of the unsauber, the cursed animals, and brethren that refuse to join the cause. To thin the tainted blood, you will give your daughters to men not of the power, and urge your sons to find weak women. Any child that holds sympathy with the creatures, or aids in spreading the poison of their unnatural existence, shall suffer their fate…’” He looked over the paper at her. “My dear, it seems quite fortunate that your family was disposed of for you. You wouldn’t have been the first in your line to meet an untimely end at the hands of their own fathers…”

“My father would never have hurt me.” She wanted to ask him to keep reading, but not at the price of having him bad mouth her daddy.

He laughed and made a cone of the paper in one deft motion, then produced a match and lit it with a flick of his thumb. She choked on her objections as he lit the paper on fire and tossed it in the trash. “Well, there’s no need to delude you of the notion, since the legacy of your family ended with his death. I don’t suppose you had any brothers to carry on the tradition?”

“I had one.” The answer came before she could stop herself. She wondered suddenly how he could know so much, yet not know about Toby. Maybe because she’d refused to think of him for so long.

“Toby.” He nodded slowly. “You were told he was dead, but you don’t believe it. You may be right.”

She blinked and looked up at him as he approached. “Really? But where...?”

He sighed. “If I’m not mistaken, it’s best you forget about him. Your reunion would not be pleasant.” He reached out and traced his fingers along her jaw. “From a line of traitors—it’s no wonder your sire gave you a different name. Many would seek your death if they knew the truth. Still, such potential in you. I wonder…” He curved his hand around the back of her neck. “Your sire. Who is he? For some reason I cannot sense him clearly. The scent of you is familiar, but your blood is mingled unlike any fledgling I’ve ever met before. It’s almost as if…” He shook his head and laughed. “Impossible. One cannot have two sires.” He wrapped his hand around her ponytail and tugged hard. “Tell me.”

Candy abruptly snapped out of her prolonged trance. “Alderic, what are you doing?”

“Silence.” His eyes flashed and he struck out when Candy stepped towards him. Helena twisted away from him and knelt by Candy’s side. She winced when she saw the gash on Candy’s temple where her head had connected with the edge of an elegant, decorative table. Candy moved closer to Helena and she pressed her hand on the cut, looking around for something to compress it with. The blood flowed under her hand and ran in a smooth line down her wrist. She groaned and pushed away from Candy, her fingers in her mouth before she could stop herself.

Candy stared at her, whimpered and crawled out of reach.

Alderic took a knee by Helena’s side and put a hand on her shoulder. “Whoever your sire is, he has been lax in teaching you the refined skills needed to make a clean kill.” He smiled at Candy and bared his fangs. “Well, perhaps clean is not the right word for it.”