A Blood Seduction (Vamp City #1)(38)

"Quiet, piccola. That was not meant for other ears." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a bare whisper. "There is danger here."

With that cryptic warning, he steered her through the game room and out onto the pool deck, where several vampires swam in the nude.

Her instincts told her to pursue the question, that she needed to know. But she hardly trusted Arturo to tell her the truth. So she held her tongue. For now. "Is there no other way for Bram to feed?"

"Before the magic began to fail, he worked as a trauma doctor in the emergency room at George Washington Hospital. He has for the past twenty years."

She looked at him with disbelief. "A vampire doctor?"

"Bram is an excellent doctor. He genuinely likes to help humans in pain. He hates that he's forced to feed on that pain, but it has been a good compromise for him."

"And now he can't get to the hospital." She was beginning to understand his misery, though. Were there really vampires who were that moral, that altruistic? Maybe there were. "Do you have an outside job?"

He led her around the pool while she kept her eyes averted from the carnal play going on in the water. "I do not."

"Do you have a house in the real world?"

"No, but a friend of mine does. I have an office in Micah's house, where I work on the computer a couple of nights a week. When I was able to get there."

"Is Micah still in the real world?"

"He is. But I've no way to contact him. He's as locked out as we are locked in. Would you like a drink?" he asked, steering her to the bar.

She would, absolutely, if it might dull the piercing screams that went on and on and on. But she had a feeling she'd better keep her wits about her in this place.

"No, thank you."

Slowly, the screams began to die away. As did, undoubtedly, the screamer. She tried not to think of her, of how she was dying, even now, for fear she'd start screaming herself. And she couldn't. No matter what happened, she had to keep it together. For Zack.

"Come, piccola." Arturo steered her back toward the foyer. "We must speak with Cristoff, and this will be a good time, now that he's fed."

She shuddered at the thought of what might happen if they approached a pain-feeder at a bad time. As Arturo led her past the piano, toward the stairs, Quinn was hit with a terrible smell, like something burning. The smell only worsened as they climbed. At the top of the stairs, he ushered her a short way down a wide hallway to a pair of open doors, then inside a huge room. A throne room. There was no other word for it. The ceiling soared, propped up by thick, gilt pillars. The walls were hung with all manner of weapons and tapestries and coats of arms. At the far end, the marble floor rose to a low dais graced by a huge golden chair . . . a throne . . . upholstered in dark red velvet. And upon the throne sat a young man staring with unrestrained pleasure at the naked woman lying in the middle of the room in a shallow puddle of blood, being fed upon by four vampires.

Around them stood half a dozen vampires, including Bram, who appeared to be coming out of the throes of pleasure. Bram's mouth was tight as he raked his fingers through his hair and turned away.

As Arturo led Quinn into the room, she caught sight of the woman's arms and legs, the raw, fresh burn marks, and knew she'd found both the source of the screams and the horrific smell. Burning flesh. Her stomach cramped, her head turning hot, then cold as Arturo steered her toward the man sitting upon the dais.

Cristoff? He looked too young, too strange, to be such a powerful vampire. Then again, vampires didn't age. He could be very, very old, and he'd still look twenty-five, she suspected. He had good bone structure beneath a shoulder-length fall of bleached white hair, his eyebrows and small King Tut beard jet-black in contrast. His mouth was thin and cruel, his pale blue eyes as cold as a killing frost. A pain-feeder.

A primal anxiety crawled across Quinn's flesh. She wanted out of here, out of this room, this house, this world. And she wanted out, now! But she swallowed hard, tamping it down. Fear was an emotion she couldn't afford to show, let alone feel. Not in this place, where they fed on such things. There would be no hiding it.

She forced her gaze away from Cristoff, then wished she hadn't as she met the gaze of the bald guard standing at his right, a vampire whose gaze felt like rancid fingers stroking her flesh as he looked her over. His eyes gleamed as if he had every intention of throwing her down and having his way with her. She sidled closer to Arturo even though he still gripped her arm.

"Master." Arturo dipped his head slowly, in a show of deep respect that felt somehow wrong. How could a man with any kind of morals bow to such a monster? "I have found you a sorceress."

Arturo pushed her forward.

Quinn's jaw dropped, her head suddenly ringing with his words. With his lie. "I'm not!" She whirled on Arturo. "Why would you say such a thing?" What did he think he was doing?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of movement, then shrieked as Cristoff grabbed her and bit her neck with a razor-sharp stab of pain. Tears burned her eyes as she struggled against his impossible vampiric strength.

Cristoff lifted his head, a triumphant look on his face as he stared at her, his mouth bloody and smiling. "You've done well, my snake."

"I'm not a sorceress." But the weirdness she'd lived with all her life raised its ugly head and laughed at her denial.