The Raven (The Florentine #1)(78)

The Prince cracked the seal and opened the letter. After he’d perused its contents, he nodded at the council.

“The Princess sends her greetings. She reports all is well and that our alliance is intact.” He stuffed the letter back into the envelope and placed it in the inner pocket of his jacket, ignoring the quizzical gazes he received.

“Niccolò and Lorenzo, I want the city to be impenetrable. I want our army at the ready. It’s possible this hunting party is a sortie for a larger incursion.”

The Prince stood, as did the council members, who bowed as he swept from the throne and down the aisle.

Before he reached the door, Aoibhe was at his elbow.

“May I have a word, my prince?”

He turned, examining her face.

She appeared calm, if not curious. Seemingly satisfied, he gestured to a corner and followed her.

“I see you took my advice.” Aoibhe smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.

William’s expression tightened. “The girl is a diversion; not a consort.”

“Then there’s room in your bed for me.”

William simply returned her stare. Aoibhe tilted her head as she scanned his features.

“No doubt it will take some time for you to tire of your new pet. I can be patient. Is she under mind control? I couldn’t tell.”

“Is there a point to this conversation?”

Aoibhe tossed her long red hair.

“Your pet’s scent is masked. Was she a virgin?”

William gritted his teeth. “Be alert this evening, Aoibhe. The hunters will find you irresistible.”

“I suppose that means she wasn’t.” Aoibhe tapped a finger to her lips, as if she were deep in thought. “If she wasn’t a virgin, I’m surprised you bothered with her. Tell me, was she sweet?”

The Prince glared. He was about to leave, when something over her shoulder caught his eye. The other council members were turned in their direction, observing them with more than a little interest.

His eyes returned to hers.

With practiced ease, he lifted his right hand and brought it to her face, swiping his thumb across her lips.

Her dark eyes widened in surprise and she drew his thumb into her mouth, sucking deeply.

“She’s a pet. Nothing more.” He kissed her aggressively and she reciprocated, nipping at his lower lip.

William pulled back with a scowl, lifting a hand to his mouth. Mercifully, she hadn’t drawn blood.

Aoibhe winked at him.

“I’m glad we have an understanding. You know where to find me when you grow tired of your pet.”

She turned to rejoin the other council members, but spoke over her shoulder.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Chapter Thirty-two

Somehow the journey up the spiral staircase seemed much longer than the downward climb. Raven clung to William’s side, eager to flee the strange world he inhabited.

Inhabited.

Her thoughts caught on the word. William didn’t simply inhabit the underworld; he ruled it. Judging from the deference she’d heard in the voices of his associates, they feared him.

She had thought of him as a member of a group of vampyres, not as the leader. If she’d been afraid of him before, her fear had tripled.

Now I’m his pet.

She cringed. The term, as well as the experience, was demeaning. If she hadn’t been afraid for her life, she would have objected. Loudly.

Her commitment to the laws of nature and what was physically possible had been weakened and almost destroyed. She’d seen and heard too much, both above and below the mysterious staircase. And the way the men and women in the gymnasium moved . . .

She wondered why vampyres hadn’t taken over the world.

Raven stumbled and she felt William’s iron grasp on her right elbow.

“Keep going,” he whispered.

She didn’t know if they were visible to the others. Certainly she didn’t hear any other footsteps on the staircase.

Her heart was beating very fast. She was sure the adrenaline was what was staving off the discomfort of wearing high heels.

William didn’t speak, but he moved so that his arm was wrapped around her waist.

Raven found his touch comforting.

A few more minutes and they were moving through doors and down hallways. William helped her into a car and sat beside her, removing her blindfold and shoving it into his jacket pocket as they drove through the city streets.

She exhaled a sigh of relief.

His face was watchful, careful. “It’s possible my brethren might follow us, but they’ll be stopped at the gate to the villa. They can’t cross onto the property.”

“Why not?” she croaked, her mouth dry.

William retrieved a bottle of water from Luka, who was driving.

Raven accepted it gratefully.

“Let’s just say there are certain things in my possession that prevent the others from troubling me.”

“You didn’t tell me you were a prince.”

“The title refers to my position.” William watched as she drank half the bottle. “The ruling vampyre of a principality is known as the Prince. Thus, I am the Prince of Florence.”

“How long have you been prince?”

“Since the fourteenth century.”

Raven began to choke, water spilling into her lungs. She coughed and spluttered while William looked on helplessly.