“No wonder she seemed so human.”
“Some of the weak ones never lose that core of humanity.” With that, Dmitri led her down the corridor—it was lined with carpet of deep burgundy, the walls covered with the most exquisite cream paper embossed with a subtle motif. Near-immortality did give the Made longer to gain wealth, but Honor had known vamps hundreds of years old who’d never reached this level of affluence. So either Valeria had begun with wealth or she’d created it through a combination of power, will, and ruthless determination.
Dmitri entered a doorway to the right, a shadow in black.
“Dmitri, darling,” came a smoky voice that made Honor’s body fill with cold terror. Then she caught the dark, musky scent of Blood Ruby. Freezing with her back to the wall beside the doorway, she tried to get the tremors to stop, to control the nausea that threatened to bring up the tea that was all she’d had for breakfast.
“Valeria,” Dmitri drawled, even as he twined tendrils of exquisite chocolate and rich liqueur around Honor’s senses. The potency of it overwhelmed the musk of Valeria’s signature perfume, allowed Honor to draw in a breath.
Dmitri spoke again before the woman in the room could respond. “Did I get you out of bed?”
A low, intimate laugh. “That’s one thing you’re always welcome to do.”
Another sickening jolt. She’d never thought to ask Dmitri if he’d slept with the female vampire. Anger followed hard on the heels of the roiling ugliness of the supposition, a hard, vicious bite that made her want to stab him in that muscular back. The very strength of her reaction was a slap, grounding her once more. Wiping her palms on the thighs of her jeans, she pulled out her gun.
Dmitri seemed to sense the instant she steadied, because he straightened and said, “I’ve brought you a visitor.”
“Oh?” A curious question as Dmitri shifted aside to allow Honor to step into the opening.
Valeria was reclining on a cream-colored chaise lounge set in front of a window, dressed in a crimson satin robe that stopped midthigh—the belt tied loosely enough at her waist that the inside curve of one perfect breast was artfully exposed. She’d angled her head to ensure the early morning light hit it at the ideal angle to heighten her already stunning features. Long golden brown hair curled over her shoulders to bounce against nipples gone hard and ready where they touched the satin.
As an invitation, it couldn’t have been clearer.
Until that deep blue gaze turned from its appreciation of Dmitri’s body to fall on Honor. Suddenly Valeria was limbs in motion, fury a red flush across the creamy skin of her face as she rose to her feet—but Honor glimpsed a split second of the most vicious hunger beneath the rage. Valeria was recalling how she’d used Honor, debased her. And she wanted only to do it again.
“Well . . .” Calculation in those stunning eyes that spoke of immortal beauty. “You brought me a snack. You always were a sweetheart.”
Honor saw Dmitri tense and—without thinking—reached out to touch him on his back out of sight of Valeria. Not yet. Coiled tension, taut muscle, but he didn’t strike, this beautiful predator with death in his eyes. “This is a nice room,” he murmured instead in that silken voice Honor never, ever wanted to hear in the dark.
Lines marred the smoothness of Valeria’s forehead. “What?”
“Small windows, though,” Dmitri continued, his back flexing slightly under Honor’s spread hand. Startled to realize she was still touching him, she dropped it. “Means,” he added, “there’s only one exit.”
Honor had always known Dmitri was ruthless, but it was when she glimpsed the dull haze of fear creep over the lake blue of Valeria’s gaze that she understood exactly where he stood in the food chain. The female vampire glanced around, her eyes wild when she faced them again. “It was just a bit of fun, Dmitri. You know how it is.”
“Hmm. Tell me.”
Valeria seemed to take the slow purr as encouragement. “Life can get so tedious after centuries of excess. It was a naughty little thrill to have the hunter at our disposal.” Walking forward, sleek thighs exposed in teasing glimpses through the crimson satin, she ignored Honor to stroke her hand down Dmitri’s chest, slow and with unhidden pleasure.
Honor’s fingers clenched on the gun. It took teeth-gritting control not to put a bullet right between those blue eyes so wide and alluring.
Dmitri simply raised his hand, closed it over the vampire’s. “An intriguing game,” he said, his voice dropping as he tugged Valeria ever closer, until he was speaking with his lips brushing her ear, her breasts flush against his chest. “I wouldn’t have thought you that creative.” He fisted his free hand in the brunette’s hair.