Run
Mercedes de Rollo should have known better than to trust the silence that stretched down quiet, day-lit corridors. In a house of vampires, silence was as meaningless as a butterfly’s wings to a gale. She didn’t have to be psychic to know that.
She also should have known to take better care as she tucked the small, midnight blue book into the deep pockets hidden beneath her skirts and petticoats. She should have known not to trust her ears when she sneaked out of the small study and shut the door behind her.
Perhaps, if she’d held her breath as she walked down the plush carpeted hall of the grand estate, she might have been able to tell the difference between the silence that meant nothing was there and the silence that suggested the absence of nothing. Or if she had listened to the intuition that came from her craft, intuition that in fact made her psychic, she might have known she was not as alone as she thought.
But Mercedes had not held her breath, nor did she pay better mind to her surroundings. She was too preoccupied by the thrum of magic that pulsed at her hip as the little book swung with her stride. She was too busy wondering if stealing the book was a risk worth adding to her already risky designs of running away.
The bright and heavy thumping of her heart in her ears was yet another distraction that pulled at her as she traced her often imagined route out of the house. A short walk, an exchange of coin and a carriage ride, then onto any ship that would have her.
Then freedom. A life dedicated to her own pleasures rather than to the sting of fangs and the savage force that came with being the object of a vampire’s desire. She could use the book to start a practice as a cunning woman or a midwife in some faraway place. In the Sugar Islands. Or better yet: in the British-controlled colonies of America, where the Rollos would have to wade through tradition and procedure to even set foot on the land to find her.
Yes. If she could find a ship to New England, that’s what she would take. And if she could not, there were plenty of ships leaving for the Caribbean every day...
A short walk. An exchange of coin. A carriage ride and then—
If she had paid mind to anything other than the book and her imagination, Mercedes would have expected the tall, sharp-faced gentleman standing at the end of the hall when she turned the corner. Instead, his presence met her like the unexpected, unwanted second wave of a doublet.
Her heart hiccuped in surprise, and because the gentleman was a vampire, he noticed the sound.
His attention honed on her. Eyes an arctic-sky blue took in the sway of her stiff silk hem, drifted over her bare arms and lingered with open adoration on her face. Six months ago, Mercedes’ heart might have skipped a beat for an entirely different reason as Salomon Rollo took in everything she was and turned his world to meet her.
Six months ago, she had no idea how utterly terrifying a vampire bitten by obsession could be. Now...
“Mercedes?”
Mercedes steeled herself as she continued down the hall, the stolen book—a book she shouldn’t have even known existed—making her pocket heavy and her stride leaden.
Don’t think about it. Just hope it stays quiet.
She pressed a smile into her expression, hoping in a way that had become increasingly common over the last six months that it looked more natural than it felt. “You’re back early. Your letter said not to expect you until late this evening.”
“I was impatient to see you—you’re surprised, I’m sure.” Genial and urbane, his smile lit him up as he held his hands out to her. “Business was boorish, as usual, and I missed you.”
The vampire’s hands engulfed Mercedes’ as she settled in front of him. Another woman, a vampire woman, might have loved the way his words settled between them, the way he pulled her into his sphere and leaned down to kiss her temple. Mercedes’ heart beat faster in warning, not anticipation.
Run. Run. Run.
But Mercedes was a concubine, trained by the Rollos personally to attend to vampiric and carnal appetites alike. She had grown up in their care along with a collection of other girls and boys, and as much of her training focused on how to stay alive among her vampire employers as it did on how to please them. Ignoring the instinct to run was the first and most important lesson she’d been taught. Even with the weight of the book tugging at the ribbon around her waist and the threat of discovery hanging over her, she knew the risk of running while a predator watched.
If only he were just a predator.
“You are sweet,” she told him, picking her words carefully as she tilted her head. The sharp line of her jaw became sharper still as she jutted her shoulder, letting her neck become an offering. “But you shouldn’t have rushed back. If you wear out another horse, Michel will flog you. He spent three weeks complaining about you to anyone who would listen because the last time—”
“Fuck Michel. I don’t wear horses out. I ride them. If he’s so worried about it, he should care for them properly.”
She winced. The sharpness of his tone hadn’t been directed at her, but it came with a warm puff of air against her neck as his nose and lips traced the line that connected her jaw to her shoulder.
Luckily, he didn’t wait for a response before he said, “Besides, I wanted to see you.”
“Well, now you see me.” As much as she meant for the statement to be dismissive, she felt her voice feathering at the edges as a deep, red wine rumble filled the vampire’s chest.
A purring vampire could mean many things. Contentment, hunger, arousal, placation. Each type of purr came with its own subtle nuances, but no matter how adept a human was at reading those vibrations, their purpose was to pitch the listener into a deep trance.
Mercedes hadn’t simply been trained to let the trance take hold of her. Like a well-trained bitch, she had learned to associate that sound with the pleasures of her work.
Warm and bittersweet desire coiled around Mercedes, tugging at slack limbs and making her blood hum pleasantly under her skin.
Her conscience squirmed unpleasantly, turning that anticipation into anxiety.
Stop. She wasn’t sure if the thought was directed at Salomon or her own body. She couldn’t even tell where her own body began and his ended.
This was the trouble with Sal. One of the many, many reasons Mercedes had to leave. Because there were nine other women and ten young men for Salomon Rollo to feed from, each as trained and well kept as Mercedes, and Sal would have none of them but her.
Flattering, six months ago, but now the weight of him drowned her.
“It’s late, my sweet,” the vampire said, his hands gentle as they caressed down her arms and took her own hands within them. “Come to bed with me.”
The moment you do, he’ll find the book. The moment he does, you’ll never be able to leave.
Thank God Almighty and the veil between that Sal had stepped back as he made the offer. Had he not, that little voice of reason might not have sounded, and Mercedes wouldn’t just lose her chance to escape, she would probably lose her life as well.
“I cannot,” she said, inhaling sharply through her nose to clear her head of the haze he’d built around her. “I told you, I wasn’t expecting you back until tonight, and I already put a request in to take the afternoon off. And I am overdue for a rest day.”
Sal really was a handsome man, but when something touched the edges of his temper, he was frightening.
Like all vampires, he was tall. Being a member of the ruling family of France, he wasn’t just tall because vampires were tall. He was tall because he was well-fed by standards of human and vampire alike. Mercedes was tall as well, something she could thank her own plush diet for, but Sal towered over her, and the breadth of his body made her feel like a splinter.
With a body as large as thunder sounded, and the fine lines of aristocracy making up his face, the look of displeasure that flickered into his pale blue eyes should have frightened the living hell out of Mercedes.
Thank goodness it was curiosity rather than anger that filled his tone as he said, “You were supposed to have the day before yesterday to rest, unless I’ve lost count of the days.”
“You haven’t. And you’re right.” Mercedes sidestepped, trying to grow the distance between them without putting her back against the wall. “But that was before Henri took it upon himself to start a fight with Luc. They brawled until Michel could pull them apart, and by then, they were both bloody. So, someone had to take care of them. And of course, who should have to take care of them, but the only two concubines not working? So Étienne and I did not have our rest.”
Her heart hiccuped again as ire sparked in Salomon’s eyes. “Idiots. Did they not think their actions would put you at risk? Do they not understand that you need time to recover after each feeding?”
“Sal, Luc and Henri are young still. I do not think they think at all.”
“Of course. And naturally, the best way for them to learn is to have some sense knocked into them.” His ire climbed, and with it, Mercedes’ heart rate. “Did Michel at least—”
“I have been given a day off today,” she said, trying to keep her voice low and soothing. “Everything was handled, Salomon, exactly as it should have been to take care of a concubine.”
She stressed the words, hoping to remind Sal that he couldn’t get mad. He couldn’t cause a fuss. Not the way he wanted to. Had Mercedes been born a vampire, perhaps it would be different. But she was a woman of the craft, a witch, and a concubine shared by the entire Rollo family.
Which meant she needed to quell his adoration for her as surely as any whore might quell a jealous john.
“Salomon, I am fine. You know as well as I that the schedule we are on allows for at least a few days of flexibility. One overfeeding will not have broken me—unless, of course, you think less of me than you let on?”
He floundered at that, confusion freezing that spike of aggression and causing it to crack. “Of course not.”
The tiny hesitation he offered was just big enough for Mercedes to seize it. With a confidence she did not feel, she said, “Good. Now, since my day off is today, and since I am not a vampire and do not like sleeping during the heat of the day, I am going to continue my walk around the garden. And then perhaps I will go down the road to the little shop that sells those sweets and buy myself something nice for my trouble.”
She pointed at the space between them to punctuate here and now as her own time.
The vampire looked torn. “Perhaps I should come with you?”
“Absolutely not. First of all, you smell like the horse you didn’t wear out, and I am not waiting for you to clean up. Second, I like my time to be my time. Yes? It’s better for both of us that way.”
At least that was something he couldn’t argue with.
“All right, my sweet woman. You win.” Hand to heart, he bowed in acknowledgement of his defeat. “But I’ll see you tonight?”
Mercedes felt herself wilt as relief and guilt, and the wearing weight of his attention pulled at the finer threads of her soul. “Yes,” she lied. “Yes, you’ll see me tonight.”
He let her step away, and Mercedes could not calm the beat of her heart as she continued down the hall.
Run. Run. Run.
She wanted to. Body, breath, and soul all wanted to run. But sometimes, a careful tread away was all one could afford.
Arctic blue eyes watched her as she walked all the way down the hall, as she opened the double doors.
One last time, Mercedes lifted her gaze as she moved to close the door behind her. One last time, she found that handsome face and forced herself to pretend she had every intention of coming back.
Then she shut the door, and she told herself a steady walk was the closest thing to a run that she could afford.
Mercedes met no one else after that. She followed her plan to pass through the garden, take a small turn about the house before ducking out of the side gate and slipping onto the neatly bricked street.
With the House of Rollo looming behind her, it was tempting to turn in the direction of that small patisserie she’d mentioned. What if someone looked out the window and saw her? What if, by turning left instead of right, she made someone suspicious of her?
But Mercedes already lost so much time talking to Sal. She had to get to the docks. She had to buy her way onto a ship before the tide pulled out. If she missed the ships, there would be no option to stay in Bordeaux overnight. Not with Sal expecting her back.
Why had those idiot boys gotten into a fight? Why couldn’t Sal have come back when he said he was going to?
But things were as they were, and wishing they were not was as useful as wishing she could convince the tide to wait for her.
Deep in the folds of her skirt, the book she’d stolen thrummed. Its magic reached for the threads of craft that flowed through her, reminding Mercedes that she wasn’t just running away from the vampires to whom she owed her life. She was stealing the seat of their power.
She didn’t have time to wish, even if it would do her any good.
So Mercedes turned left, and dreading the idea that two days was enough to throw off her calculation of the tides, she did not bother trying to hire a coach to take her to the far end of the city. Instead, she gave in to the palpitating command of her heart to run. Run. Run.
And Mercedes ran.
