A Blood Seduction (Vamp City #1)(79)

"Where is Cristoff?" Arturo asked one of the guards strolling through the foyer.

"In the throne room, Arturo."

Arturo gave a nod, took her upper arm, and led her up the wide staircase and down the hall to the room where she'd seen the burned and naked woman being fed on by four vamps. That might end up being her fate if she failed to call the magic a second time.

She couldn't summon the will to care.

Outside the doorway, Arturo stopped, pulling her around to face him. She glanced at him, noticing the regret in his expression before she looked away.

"I am sorry, cara. It is a hard world we live in."

She said nothing. What was there to say?

Arturo sighed, touching her hair, then turned her back toward the large double doors, opening one to lead her inside. The room was empty this time but for Cristoff and a pair of guards, one standing on each side of the dais. Dressed in a bloodred silk caftan with intricate gold embroidery on the stand-up collar and cuffs, Cristoff sat upon the great throne with a naked woman draped across his lap as he sucked at her neck. He glanced up, his gaze landing on Quinn, his eyes hardening. He pushed the unconscious woman onto the floor as if she were so much trash, wiped his bloody mouth on his sleeve, and rose.

Quinn's apathy fled. Her heart began to beat a frantic rhythm as the vamp master strode toward her, human-slow, drawing out the moment to a fine-honed edge. Arturo made a sound of pleasure deep in his throat, and she growled and glared at him, jerking her arm free of his hold. To her surprise, he let her go, stepping aside as Cristoff reached her. Anger crackled in the vampire's eyes, and he grabbed her hair. Pain tore across her scalp as he wound it around his fist and lifted her onto her toes. Tears bloomed until she could barely see the cruel face inches from her own.

"How dare you escape me. Who released you?" He jerked her up higher, and she cried out at the pain. "Who?"

"Celeste. And Marcus." Which was true enough. And they were safely out of his reach.

He turned to Arturo. "Call Kassius."

"Yes, Master." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him turn and go, leaving her alone with this monster.

Her fear spiked even as she knew Arturo's staying wouldn't help her, not at all. Because he wouldn't help her. Not against his master.

Cristoff backhanded her hard, splitting her lip. Tears scorched her eyes, blurring his angry countenance, hiding his hand as he hit her again, and again. The coppery taste of her blood ran over her tongue, her cheeks running wet with tears. Finally, he released her, tossing her by her hair. She landed hip first on the marble floor, crying out from the shattering pain. The taste of blood coated her mouth until she thought she would vomit.

She tried to roll off her injured hip, but fell back, biting down to keep from crying out. Damn Arturo. Damn him to hell.

Finally, the traitor returned, Kassius at his side. As she stared at Arturo, hating him, his jaw turned hard, but nothing in his expression gave any indication of regret. Or apology. How she wished she'd gone through that sunbeam with the other slaves.

No, she didn't. She'd have never been able to live with herself if she'd abandoned Zack without one last try to save him. Now, she probably wouldn't live at all.

"Bite her," Cristoff commanded. "Tell me who freed her and how."

Kassius loomed over her moments later, kneeling beside her, compassion in his gaze, at least. "My bite won't hurt, and it will help you heal," he said quietly. Then more loudly, "Think of your escape, sorceress, and it will go more easily for you."

As he lifted her into his arms, Quinn cried out as pain exploded in her hip at the movement. When he bit her seconds later, she felt no pain. And within moments, the fire in her hip began to ease.

Cool lips clamped onto her flesh as Kassius pulled at her blood. The sensation was pleasant enough though without the passion she'd felt the couple of times Arturo had bitten her.

Something began to happen.

Her vision spun and she reached out, gripping Kassius's arm. When her vision cleared, she was seeing through another's eyes in a land . . . and time . . . far, far away. Not only seeing. She felt the sun beating down on her sweating back, tasted dust and her own blood in her mouth. Felt the pounding of her heart and heard the roar of the crowd as she stood in a sunbaked arena, her body moving with strength and speed, her blade swinging, stabbing, drawing blood from her opponent - a man dressed in the short, leg-baring armor of a Roman gladiator. She was strong. Invincible. Her blade swung again, slicing open her opponent's neck. The man went down. Sweat dripped into her eyes as a cheer went up from the crowd, chanting, "Kassius! Kassius! Kassius!"

These were his memories.

Her sight twisted, the scene changing, and she was carrying a heavy load into a cage, hunger rumbling in her belly. The door clanked shut behind her, but she didn't care. She tossed her burden onto the dirt floor at her feet. The gladiator she'd just killed. She tore off his armor and clothes, tossing them aside, then stripped off her own. The moment she was naked, she fisted her hands, threw back her head, and called on the power within her, feeling it answer in a primal howl and a rush of glorious pain.

Suddenly, she was on the floor, on four feet, her snout long, her mouth watering from the smell of blood and flesh.

She ripped into the dead man's abdomen, the meat fresh and delicious, the juices running into her mouth.