A Dowry of Blood (A Dowry of Blood #1)(37)

You froze in the entryway, your hand still gripping the door knob, and listened in gobsmacked silence for a moment.

“Alexi,” you growled.

I followed after you at a brisk clip as you strode down the hallway towards the parlor. Alexi lounged on the couch with a glass of wine in his hand, holding court over a ragtag group of seven or eight guests. I assumed they were actors from their florid but frayed clothes, and the smears of greasepaint still clinging to hairlines and shirt cuffs.

Far from looking contrite, Alexi burst into a smile when he saw you.

“Darling!” he crowed, beckoning you over. “Come have a drink with us.”

You stood glowering in your own parlor, looking like the Red Death come to break up a lively party. There was no way you would have given Alexi your approval to bring people over to the house. It was our sanctum; no one stepped foot inside except servants and meals.

You deliberately removed your gloves one finger at a time.

“Alexi,” you repeated, heavy and low. You had an uncanny ability to turn any of our names into a warning when you wanted to.

Alexi ignored the threat, slinging his arm around the shoulders of a young man seated next to him on the sofa. The boy was gangly and hadn’t quite grown into his limbs yet, around the same age Alexi has been when you turned him. Magdalena sat on his other side, looking entirely enchanted by the ruckus in her living room. She had probably been surprised when he brought the actors home, but she didn’t seem upset at the diversion in the slightest.

“These fine players just closed a marvelous show,” Alexi prattled on. “Totally modern, avant garde , as they say. It was a revelation. Come, sit with us! Constance, you too, dear one.”

I looked to you for my cue but you were staring straight ahead at Alexi, boring holes into him with your eyes. Eventually, you gave a dismissive wave of your hand, bidding me sit. You stalked over to an open armchair and perched yourself on the edge of it, your face dangerously placid. I never knew what was going on beneath the surface when you arranged your features like that. It frightened me.

“Magdalena, what’s going on?” I whispered to her sidelong.

She colored a bit.

“I know I should have turned them away, but it was just so nice to have company after all this time… Alexi said he had permission.”

“Alexi is a liar,” I muttered back, looking between our golden prince’s smiling face and your stony one. He had bitten off more than he could chew this time, I was sure of it. There was going to be hell to pay the instant you two were alone.

But I could hardly blame Alexi for bringing the merry band home, nor blame Magdalena for letting them in. They filled the living room with light and sound, and made the drafty old apartment seem snug and lived-in. A party was just what these beautiful old rooms needed, I decided. That was how they were meant to be appreciated.

A pretty young woman in a shift dress and feather earrings circled the room, pouring the dregs of a wine bottle into mismatched glasses. They had raided our untouched kitchen and made do with what they found there, apparently. I smiled weakly at her when she pressed a glass into my hand. Then she moved on to you, suddenly looking a little nervous under the weight of your eyes.

“Do you drink wine?” she asked hesitantly. “We’ve got absinthe, too.”

You smiled at her, cloying and irresistible. A little shudder went through her and she gave a laugh. The next thing I knew you had gallantly taken her by the hand and pulled her into your lap.

Warm laughter rippled through the room, and Alexi clapped his hands in approval. His pretty friend flushed and covered her mouth with her hand, but her eyes sparkled with delight. Who could deny you, after all, with that rakish smirk on your face?

I clutched my glass of wine warily, marveling at your sudden good humor. It wasn’t unheard of, for your mood to change on a dime. But it usually swept from content to contemptuous, not the other way around.

“You see?” Magdalena whispered to me with a smile. “It will all be alright.”

You kissed the girl’s wrist and murmured something to her. She leaned in closer to hear you over the happy chatter of the party, her chestnut curls falling to the side to expose a beautiful brown throat. You lightly kissed the juncture of her neck and shoulder, earning a flutter of her dark lashes.

Then you parted your lips against her skin, so gently at first, until I could see the sheen of your teeth all the way across the room.

“Don’t — ” I started, pushing myself to my feet.

You squeezed her hand and drove your teeth into her neck, holding her fast when she screamed and tried to wrench away.

The room erupted into chaos. Alexi’s friends shrieked and dropped their glasses onto the rug. They shot to their feet and clutched each other in terror. It all happened so fast, none of us had any time to so much as formulate a sentence.

You dropped the girl’s body unceremoniously to the ground. It slumped onto the hardwood glassy-eyed and pale.

Alexi screamed your name. I barely heard him, over the clatter and rush of bodies fleeing the room. In moments, all of his friends were gone.

Magdalena shrieked her rage. She was on her feet, fists trembling at her sides. I was frozen; my wine glass shattered at my feet while I watched the life drain out of that poor girl’s eyes.

“What have you done!” Magdalena wailed.

“Go to your room, Magdalena,” you snapped, wiping the blood from your mouth with the cuff of your shirt. “I don’t want to look at you. This is your doing, you and Alexi’s.”