I sat up and rubbed the back of my neck, my ego slightly deflated. The knife wouldn’t have done him serious harm since stunners were designed to paralyze a Mage, not a Vampire, but sometimes a girl had to make a point.
We left the city and entered a wealthy area of town that I’d never seen before. The car slowed in front of a wrought iron gate that reached maybe fifteen or twenty feet high. Above it was a stone archway between two walls that stretched as far as I could see. On the keystone at the center of the arch was a carving of a Roman soldier’s head staring down at me, his helmet on. The slope of his brows and pensive gaze made me shiver.
The Vampire veered to the left and swiped his card against a stand. While he waited for the gates to open, he switched off the windshield wipers when the downpour changed to a light sprinkle.
“I don’t have to live here, do I?”
“Would that be too awful? Jaysus, will you fecking look at it?” He lifted his arm theatrically. “This isn’t a mansion, it’s a country. If you’d rather live on the street than in here, you’re a bigger fruit loop than I took you for.”
“I’m not living on the street.”
The car lurched to a stop. “I’ll spare you the indignity of giving me an explanation since we both know that’s a lie. Now why don’t you cheer up, lass? You were so much more pleasant when you just wanted me for my onion rings.”
“What’s a Vampire doing eating in public anyhow?”
He scratched behind his ear. “I was trying to blend in.”
I snorted. “Yeah. A Vampire eating food doesn’t stand out.”
We continued down the road that led to the mansion, which looked more like a castle. Once the car stopped in the circular driveway in front, I got out and soaked in my surroundings. Another road branched off to the right toward what looked like a garage door and a small building.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Underground parking,” he said, lifting the collar of his coat to shield his neck from the rain.
I set my heavy duffel on the ground while I shut the car door. He collected my bag and swung it over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing.
I followed behind, studying the Vampire. His straight shoulders didn’t slope down, and he must have been around six feet tall. He didn’t walk with a heavy gait but glided forward with a purposeful stride. If he wasn’t so cocksure and intimidating, he might actually be attractive. I didn’t like Vampires, and the fact he was pleasant to look at made me hate him even more.
The stone archway above the front door had the same sculpture of a warrior’s head on the keystone.
When we entered, it was nothing like I had expected. Instead of marble floors, crystal chandeliers, baroque furniture, and classic paintings, the interior looked like the inside of an old castle, just as it did on the outside. There was a nice open space, and farther up to the left was a curved staircase. Some of the candles on the walls were lit, but not many since the windows brought in sufficient light.
I recoiled at a statue on my right of a man wielding a sword in his right hand as if he were going to strike me down. A sharp wing extended behind that arm while the other wing curved around front to shield him.
“Viktor’s a religious man, huh?” I asked, warily walking past the statue as if it might come alive.
“That’s not an angel,” the Vampire whispered in my ear, leading me to a hall on the right.
The gothic architecture was captivating. We headed toward a hall on the right, an archway at the entrance and a curved ceiling. These windows were tinted blue, and lanterns hung from the ceiling between every other window.
Our footsteps reverberated off the walls, and I tried to ignore the squishing sound coming from my right boot.
A woman with long brown hair was waiting at the end of the hall that branched off to the left. She possessed a natural beauty that wasn’t overly feminine, and her features were distinctly Native American. The very first thing I noticed was her sapphire eyes—they sparkled against her dark features, making them the most striking thing about her. But there was nothing gentle about her rigid stance and serious demeanor.
“Set down her bag and open it up,” she said. “I’ll search her.”
“I don’t have any weapons on me,” I assured her.
“It’s routine. We thoroughly search everyone the first time. We’re looking for weapons, recording devices, tracking mechanisms… Take off your shoes.”
While the Vampire rummaged through my personal belongings, I unlaced my boots and pulled them off.
The Irishman tossed my clothes in a meaningless pile, searching the pockets and inspecting the hems.
She circled her hands around the waistband of my jeans and discovered a blade disguised as a belt buckle.
I shrugged. “Forgot I had that.”
“Is that so?”
While she continued her search, I glanced up at a painting. It was a glum image of a dark moonlit river.
How very Breed, I thought.