He had as much of a choice to refuse my father as I did. Which, to be clear, was zilch. Still, I couldn’t stop the swelling anger I felt toward him. The tournament was a disgusting idea and I was repulsed by anyone who wanted any part of it — the so-called suitors most of all. And Matthias’s nice-guy mask wasn’t enough to hide the truth. He was as power-hungry as he was blood thirsty, and I wanted nothing to do with him.
The elevator doors slid open to reveal a short hallway. Fancy sconces illuminated three sets of impressive double doors, a pair to the left and right, the third set dead ahead. The landing echoed the same design elements I’d noted in the lobby: taupe walls, tasteful art, a large ceramic pot with an array of colorful plants spilling from the sides. Matthias moved ahead of me as I stopped to admire an abstract painting. A soft click sounded, and I turned to find him holding open one of the doors on the right.
Such a gentleman. I fought back a snarl and stalked inside.
The condo stood in stark contrast to the lobby and hallway; everything was modern lines, clean but cold. There were no pieces of art or knick-knacks. It looked like a poorly executed corporate rental in a generic hotel room. Granted, it was still high-end. The open kitchen boasted quartz countertops, glass backsplash, and gleaming stainless-steel appliances in the open kitchen. The commercial kitchen stovetop was impressive—if not overkill, as vampires had no real need for a stove.
“Did you just move in?” I asked, though I immediately wished I hadn’t said anything. I didn’t want a conversation with the man and I didn’t really care whether he’d lived there for five days or five years.
“I’ve been here for a few months now,” he replied, crossing to the living room to flick on a lamp beside the sprawling leather couch. The light bounced off the solid wood floors and provided a little warmth to the mood of the room. Next, he went to the fireplace and with the flick of a switch, had a roaring fire behind the glass. The fireplace soared all the way up to the tall ceilings, at least twenty feet. There was a staircase off the main entrance and I assumed the bedrooms were tucked away on the second level of the swanky condo.
“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I have my own food in my—”
I stopped short and squeezed my eyes closed.
“In your …?” Matthias prompted.
“None of my things are here,” I growled. “All of my clothes are back at the manor.”
“I’m sure we can make a call and have them brought here,” he replied.
“Wouldn’t want to disturb the crime scene,” I snarled, a grim image of blood-spattered luggage crossed my mind and made me wince.
I frowned at the row of floor-to-ceiling windows. The inky black was dotted with lights from the city below. The city that never sleeps was buzzing and humming as if nothing had happened. I wanted to run into the night and lose myself among the living.
Sighing, I raked my fingers through the roots of my hair that were stiff with the hairspray Jupiter had applied. If I couldn’t leave the condo, my next best bet was a long, hot shower. But, without anything to change into or even the most basic of beauty products, that was off the table as well. I supposed I could call the concierge. They’d likely have someone available to run out and get me anything I desired. After all, wasn’t that the point of living in a building like this? Everything at your fingertips?
“Here,” Matthias said, moving into the kitchen. “Let’s get you something to drink. You’ve had quite a shock.”
“I don’t want anything,” I said.
Ignoring me, he opened the fridge. My lips parted in protest, but I stopped myself and realized the illuminated shelves were packed with neat lines of the same brand of bottled blood I’d brought with me. “You don’t drink pure?” I asked, surprised.
Matthias froze, as though realizing in hindsight his mistake. His eyes slid closed for a moment and a flicker of tension showed at his temples.
“I don’t either!” I rushed to say.
His eyes snapped open and flew to mine. “You don’t?”
I shook my head and let out of a puff of relieved laughter. “That’s why I didn’t drink at the party.”
Matthias’s shoulders released as he retrieved a bottle. “Well, you’re welcome to as much as you’d like. I have another case being delivered tomorrow.”
He handed the chilled bottle to me and I started to protest.
“Lacey, please,” he said, shoving the bottle toward me. “You need to eat. You’re pale.”
“Kinda goes with the whole being dead thing,” I deadpanned.
“Touché.” He barked out a laugh. “You’re not quite the way I imagined you would be. You’re not like the other vamps around here.”
For a moment, I returned his easy smile, only to have it fade as I remembered the wave of anger I’d felt for him on the way to the condo. Frowning, I focused on reviving those flames. “Unfortunately, you are exactly like every other vampire I’ve met. All you want is more, more, more. It’s all about the Court and finding your way to the top.”
I shook my head, replaying the scene. It still felt surreal. Then again, the entire night had that fuzzy, not-quite-there quality.
Matthias took a step back, his stern mask sliding back into place. “Aha. So you’ve got me all figured out then? Based on what? The ten minutes of conversation we’ve had since meeting each other?”
I scoffed. “You said you don’t like the idea of this revolting tournament my father has cooked up, but you know, I don’t remember seeing someone holding a blade against your neck when you stepped to the front of the room tonight to announce your participation. No one is forcing you to risk your life in this barbaric circus. Anyone willing to subject themselves to it for a shot at is not someone I need to waste my time getting to know.”
The sparks in his eyes turned to dark granite. Hard and cold. “Fine with me. I learned a long time ago that proving myself to anyone in the Court was a waste of time. And that includes you, your majesty.”
The mock title rankled, but I refused to show it. I crossed my arms tightly and glared at him. “As pleasant as this conversation is, I think I’ll eat alone. You can show me to my room now.”
His eyes blazed but after a moment, he relented and threw his hands up. “Upstairs, second door on the left. Guest room’s all yours.”
I blinked, about to object to his flippant reply, but decided against it. Clutching the bottle of faux blood, I started from the kitchen, only to freeze three steps—stalks—away.
The doorbell rang and a quick exchange of glances told me we both knew who was waiting on the other side.
Chapter 7
As promised—or threatened, depending on how you looked at it—my father stood on Matthias’s doorstep, two guards in tow. As soon as Matthias pulled the door open, my father marched inside, his pace as if trying to keep a cape floating aloft behind him. “Where is Lacey?” he barked.
With a roll of my eyes, I sidestepped into his line of sight and wiggled my fingers. “I’m right here; you can put off calling in the National Guard.”
His lip curled back, revealing the edge of his teeth. He kept his fangs tucked away—for now—but the low growl that rumbled up from his chest told me they wouldn’t stay that way for long. “I’m in no mood for your smart mouth, Lacey.”
“Well, what kind of mood are you in, Father?” I crossed my arms. “The kind where you tell me what you’re doing to find my best friend? Because if it’s any other kind of mood, I’m not interested.”
Matthias stared at me, both his thick eyebrows raised into sharp peaks.
My father glared at me for one lingering moment, then yanked his attention away and focused it on Matthias, who almost comically snapped to attention. “Are you going to offer me a place to sit?” his tone was nails on a chalkboard.
Matthias jolted and hurried to gesture at the dining room off the kitchen. “This way, my Lord.”
With a smug smile, my father swept past me. His guards remained at the front door.