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control, she pointed the brush at him. “Go, feed. I need you healthy if we’re going to survive this banquet.”
“You trust me to come to your aid?”
“No. I just want to be able to use you as a shield—right nowyou’re barely wide enough to hide half of me.” And yet, in spite of it all, he was starkly handsome. As if he’d been stripped down to his very essentials.
“You are right.” Straightening, he headed toward the door. “When I return, we’ll talk. Nazarach’s banquets have a way of turning deadly without warning.”
J anvier’s words tumbled around and around in her head as she walked through the doors to the banquet room, the long table piled high with foodstuffs and bottles that gleamed dark red. Food and blood.
And flesh.
Monique kneeled demurely at Nazarach’s side where the angel sat in the chair at the head of the table, talking to Antoine. The former hostage, her hair a sheet of beaten gold, was dressed in an elegant dress that screamed couture. The vivid crimson fabric managed to cover her torso and leave the rest of her bare, while skirting away from appearing trashy.
Monique wasn’t the only one on display. Simone sat to Antoine’s left and she, too, was dressed like an invitation. In fact, all the female vampires around the table were clothed in a similar high-class, high-sex style except for T-shirt–clad Perida, who sat next to Callan. The enforcer’s gaze was pure molten fury when she spied Ashwini.
But Ashwini was more concerned about the fact that Nazarach had invited both factions—either he’d decided to end the standoff… or he was planning to play the most lethal of games.
The angel looked up at that moment, amber eyes filled with such screams that she wondered how he could sleep. “Guild Hunter.” He waved her toward a seat midpoint on the table. Janvier already sat on the opposite side, having been summoned earlier.
The tightness in her chest relaxed at seeing him unharmed. As she took her seat, she realized Nazarach had put her and Janvier right in the middle—to better hear and spread the word of his decisions, his cruelties? It was, she was forced toadmit, an efficient method of getting the message across. No need to kill hundreds. Do one viciously enough and no one would dare rise up against you again.
The man next to Ashwini waited until Nazarach’s attention was elsewhere before speaking. “Bringing my sister back was the worst move you’ve ever made.”
Looking into that electric blue gaze, that perfect skin, she raised her eyebrows. “Is that a threat?”
“Of course not.” Frédéric Beaumont’s eyes were glacial when they met hers. “I’d never threaten a hunter Nazarach holds in favor.”
“Smart guy.” And he’d rip out her throat the instant he thought he could get away with it. That didn’t mean she couldn’t use him. “You’re into weapons, I hear.”
To his credit, Frédéric followed the abrupt shift in topic with ease. “Yes.”
“Do you know where I could get some handheld grenade launchers?”
A slight pause. “May I ask why you need them?”
“Just thinking they might come in useful one day.” The dreams had been odd, fragmented. All she could really remember was thinking that grenade launchers sure would’ve come in handy. And given her dreams… “I like to be prepared.”
“I may have the name of a supplier for you.” Frédéric continued to stare at her. “You’re slightly outof step with the world, aren’t you, hunter?”
“Or the world’s out of step with me,” she said as Janvier caught her eye.
Warning blazed in the green depths she was used to seeing filled with laughter, and the strength of it chilled her to the soul. Whatever the hell Nazarach had planned, Ashwini really didn’t want to be here for it. Briefly, she considered calling in the Guild pullout, but why put Kenji and Baden in danger if
“You trust me to come to your aid?”
“No. I just want to be able to use you as a shield—right nowyou’re barely wide enough to hide half of me.” And yet, in spite of it all, he was starkly handsome. As if he’d been stripped down to his very essentials.
“You are right.” Straightening, he headed toward the door. “When I return, we’ll talk. Nazarach’s banquets have a way of turning deadly without warning.”
J anvier’s words tumbled around and around in her head as she walked through the doors to the banquet room, the long table piled high with foodstuffs and bottles that gleamed dark red. Food and blood.
And flesh.
Monique kneeled demurely at Nazarach’s side where the angel sat in the chair at the head of the table, talking to Antoine. The former hostage, her hair a sheet of beaten gold, was dressed in an elegant dress that screamed couture. The vivid crimson fabric managed to cover her torso and leave the rest of her bare, while skirting away from appearing trashy.
Monique wasn’t the only one on display. Simone sat to Antoine’s left and she, too, was dressed like an invitation. In fact, all the female vampires around the table were clothed in a similar high-class, high-sex style except for T-shirt–clad Perida, who sat next to Callan. The enforcer’s gaze was pure molten fury when she spied Ashwini.
But Ashwini was more concerned about the fact that Nazarach had invited both factions—either he’d decided to end the standoff… or he was planning to play the most lethal of games.
The angel looked up at that moment, amber eyes filled with such screams that she wondered how he could sleep. “Guild Hunter.” He waved her toward a seat midpoint on the table. Janvier already sat on the opposite side, having been summoned earlier.
The tightness in her chest relaxed at seeing him unharmed. As she took her seat, she realized Nazarach had put her and Janvier right in the middle—to better hear and spread the word of his decisions, his cruelties? It was, she was forced toadmit, an efficient method of getting the message across. No need to kill hundreds. Do one viciously enough and no one would dare rise up against you again.
The man next to Ashwini waited until Nazarach’s attention was elsewhere before speaking. “Bringing my sister back was the worst move you’ve ever made.”
Looking into that electric blue gaze, that perfect skin, she raised her eyebrows. “Is that a threat?”
“Of course not.” Frédéric Beaumont’s eyes were glacial when they met hers. “I’d never threaten a hunter Nazarach holds in favor.”
“Smart guy.” And he’d rip out her throat the instant he thought he could get away with it. That didn’t mean she couldn’t use him. “You’re into weapons, I hear.”
To his credit, Frédéric followed the abrupt shift in topic with ease. “Yes.”
“Do you know where I could get some handheld grenade launchers?”
A slight pause. “May I ask why you need them?”
“Just thinking they might come in useful one day.” The dreams had been odd, fragmented. All she could really remember was thinking that grenade launchers sure would’ve come in handy. And given her dreams… “I like to be prepared.”
“I may have the name of a supplier for you.” Frédéric continued to stare at her. “You’re slightly outof step with the world, aren’t you, hunter?”
“Or the world’s out of step with me,” she said as Janvier caught her eye.
Warning blazed in the green depths she was used to seeing filled with laughter, and the strength of it chilled her to the soul. Whatever the hell Nazarach had planned, Ashwini really didn’t want to be here for it. Briefly, she considered calling in the Guild pullout, but why put Kenji and Baden in danger if
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