I’d forgotten he was there, and I’d also forgotten just how observant he was. He hadn’t lived and ruled for seven centuries due to his looks alone.
I shook my head. “Just shadows,” I said, brushing it off.
Andre’s arm tightened around me, and he hustled me the rest of the way to the car. He knew better than me. In the supernatural world, shadows were never just shadows.
The taxi drove for over two hours, only stopping once we hit Munich, where phase one of our craptastic, we-will-surely-die plan would begin.
When it pulled up in front of a coffee shop, I raised my eyebrows. “A … coffee house? You live above a coffee house?” It seemed so not Andre.
He winked. “I’m full of surprises.”
It says a lot about Andre that he was able to pay the driver most of the fare in cash. I had to use a bit of my magic to persuade him that he wasn’t getting partially stiffed when he so obviously was.
Andre took my hand. “Come, soulmate.”
He led us past the coffee shop, down a narrow alley. Here flakes of snow lightly drifted down. We hooked a left at the end of it and turned onto a small road. Businesses butted up against it, and we eventually stopped in front of a door that seemed as though it, like the others, led to some shop.
Andre yanked on the knob, breaking the lock, and ushered me inside. The first thing I noticed was the motorcycle off to the right of the door. The bike had been parked in front of a garage door that rested next to our entrance.
“Where are we?” I asked, looking beyond it. A long hallway extended away from us.
“A persecution tunnel of mine.” Andre flicked on the lights just as the door closed behind us. I heard metal scrape and turned in time to see Andre using a steel beam to barricade the door.
Who in the hell leaves steel beams just lying around?
Andre caught my eye. “You’re better off not asking, soulmate,” he said, hearing my unspoken question.
Above the door a grainy screen embedded into the wall showed us footage of the alleyway. I glanced from it, to the beam, and back to the motorcycle.
I really didn’t want to know.
As far as persecution tunnels go, this one had been nicely outfitted. It made me wonder just what sort of unsavory events Andre had been up to here in recent years.
He has a criminal record a mile long, Leanne had once said.
Hello criminal record.
Andre came up from behind me and placed a hand on the small of my back, urging me forward. Together the two of us headed down the hall until we hit another door, this one equipped with a thumb scanner.
Jesus.
Andre pressed his thumb to the pad, and a moment later, the door swung open. A room waited for us on the other side, and beyond it, another hall stretched out.
“Do I even want to know why you need all the security?”
“No.”
Fair enough.
We continued on for what felt like forever, but was probably only another minute or so, when we came up to a normal door.
“No retinal scanner?” I asked. “And here I was hoping.”
Almost against his will, a grin broke out along Andre’s face.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked. Andre’s coven had a habit of coming and going to his estates; surely one or two would be here.
I guess it didn’t matter, regardless. It was too late now for regrets.
“If anyone tries to harm you, they will rue it. That I promise you.” Andre’s eyes flashed as he looked at me. My mind went to the bloody bodies scattered around an altar beneath Bran Castle, all cut down by this man.
Yes, I believed with absolute certainty that my soulmate would make good on his promise.
I cracked my knuckles. “Let’s do this.”
On the other side of the door was a small study. I made a note that if I ever returned to Bishopcourt, I would see if the study there had any secret passageways. We exited the room and entered a large entryway.
As soon as Andre’s house staff caught sight of Andre and me, they scrambled to accommodate us. Apparently their loyalties still lay with the king of vampires, news or not. When their eyes landed on me, and they stared—not with fear or hatred, but with rapt attention—I realized it might even be simpler than that. They were human. Mortal. Normal. And they’d never seen a siren before. I’d never been so relieved to be gawked at.
“Andre?” A male voice called out.
I swiveled to see a man with blond hair stroll from another room.
“My God man, you should not be here—” His eyes moved to me. It took less than a second for his shock to appear then vanish from his face. Drawing his lips back, he hissed. “What is that godforsaken creature doing here?”
Ah, there was the angry vampire. Just when I thought I might actually get a little respite from the fighting and fleeing.
“She’s with me, Tybalt,” Andre said, stepping forward. Every line of Andre’s body promised aggression, “and she has my protection.”
Tybalt’s muscles tensed, and I fell into a fighting stance. Words were pretty and all, but this dude was beyond them.
Andre must’ve thought so too. His body blurred, and he rushed the blond vampire just as Tybalt began to lunge. Grabbing the man’s neck, Andre slammed him into the ground. The marble floor cracked at the force of impact.
“You will not harm your queen.”
My skin tingled at his aggression, my siren chomping at the bit to get out.
The man hissed again. “Andre, this is madness. She’s wanted by the devil. You’ve let the enemy into your home. She’ll kill us all.”
Andre didn’t like the sound of that. His fist came down hard on Tybalt’s face. I heard things crack, smelled the vampire’s stolen blood as it dripped out of his crushed nose, and heard his whimper.
“You think I don’t know?” Andre roared. He slammed his fist down again.