A Blood Seduction (Vamp City #1)(43)

"I am privy to neither Cristoff's plans nor his thoughts." He motioned to the open doorway with a nod of his head. "One day at a time."

And she really had no choice. If she refused to accompany him, Arturo would simply sling her over his shoulder and carry her out. Her pride was all she had left and he'd take that, too, if he had to.

Quinn took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before stepping toward the door. As they started down the long, narrow passage, side by side, she glanced at him sharply. "I don't believe you. You know exactly what's likely to happen to me; you're just not saying."

To his credit, he didn't reply, didn't compound his lies.

The passage was completely unadorned, lit only by a gas lamp every hundred feet or so, making the walk spooky. She should be glad to be leaving that miserable little room. And she was, or would be, if Cristoff wasn't waiting for her at the other end.

Arturo reached for her shoulder, squeezing it lightly before she shrugged him off. "Control your fear around Cristoff. He cannot taste it, as I can. As any fear-feeder can. But he'll see it in your face plainly enough if you let him. Cristoff may feed on pain, but he enjoys fear. The more he knows he distresses you, the more interest you will be to him. Ignore him, and he might do the same to you."

Eventually, their path led back to the grand foyer, which appeared all but deserted. She could hear voices and the clatter of billiard balls in the other room, but the grand party appeared to be over. "Where is everyone?"

"The banquet."

One of the guards she'd seen in Cristoff's throne room - the bald one who'd made her skin crawl, strode into the foyer from one of the side rooms yanking a whimpering girl along beside him by her hair. The girl's mouth had been bloodied, and there was blood smeared between her thighs, visible beneath the skimpy uniform all the castle slaves seemed to wear. But unlike the Slavas, her hair had no glow. Did that mean she was still new to Vamp City and not yet immortal?

Arturo halted their progress, turning to the guard, a fine vibration tensing his body. Anger? "She's not yet a Slava, Ivan. She'll not easily or quickly heal your abuse."

Ivan sneered. "She lives, doesn't she?" As if the girl was lucky he hadn't killed her.

And suddenly Arturo was no longer by Quinn's side, but standing squarely in front of the sadistic guard, his blade buried hilt deep in the guard's stomach. "Be happy you do, too. Now release her."

Quinn watched them, stunned. If Ivan were human, Arturo would have killed him, stabbing him as he had. Instead, as Arturo removed his knife, the guard merely straightened, hatred flashing in hard eyes. But he did as Arturo demanded, flinging the girl to the marble floor, eliciting a cry of pain from her.

Fury burned in Quinn's gut, and she started toward her. But before she could reach her, vampires began to flash around her as if she were standing still. Ivan disappeared. Arturo was suddenly at her side, taking her arm to hold her back, and a third appeared out of nowhere.

"Kassius." Arturo greeted the new arrival warmly.

"Ax." Kassius had to be close to six and a half feet tall, his shoulders as broad as a linebacker's. His dark hair was on the short side, but curly and untamed, several days' whiskers and a strong Roman nose giving him a rough look. But the expression in his eyes belied that roughness as he went to the girl, lifting her into his arms with surprising care.

The girl began to cry with great wracking sobs, trembling harder than before. Both Kassius and Arturo tipped back their heads, clearly drinking her fear, before eyeing one another again.

"I wish you'd killed him," Kassius said. "I've ordered them not to touch the fresh ones. They can't take the abuse."

"Ivan's day will come," Arturo replied darkly. "But he's a favorite of Cristoff's."

Kassius scowled. "That's no surprise." He turned to Quinn, eyeing her with interest. "Is this her, then? The sorceress?"

Arturo led her forward with a nod. "Quinn Lennox."

Kassius watched her curiously. "She doesn't react to me."

"Nor can she be enthralled."

"She's strong, then." Relief softened the hard lines of his face.

"It would appear so although that is yet to be confirmed. But we have a banquet to attend."

Kassius nodded and left, cradling the weeping girl against his broad chest.

"A friend of yours?" Quinn asked, as he led her down another long hall. If she ever managed to escape her jail cell, she'd play heck finding her way out of this place without getting lost.

"Yes. Kassius is in charge of the Slavas. He's like a mother hen with them. He does not take well to their abuse, particularly the fresh ones - those not yet immortal."

Another vampire with at least some compassion, some honor. How could such a man stand to live in a place where humans suffered abuse . . . and death . . . on a regular basis?

She glanced at the male at her side, intensely aware of all the contradictions he presented. He was a liar who'd betrayed her. But his own slaves seemed to adore him and he'd never physically hurt her. As much as she might hate him, she had to admit he wasn't all bad. There was compassion in him, too. And honor, buried in there somewhere. Maybe she hadn't been a complete idiot for trusting him the first time.

But that didn't mean she'd ever make that mistake again.