Cursed by Destiny (WG 3) (20 page)

Edith did a nice job of giving me a cascade of neatly flowing curls. When it came to my makeup, Liz applied eyeliner, blush, and lip gloss. She very much wanted to add some eye shadow for a smoky effect, but I wouldn’t allow it. That earned me a death glare and a few mutters about what an ingrate I was. And here I’d thought the vamps weren’t any fun.

Edith unveiled the Russian couture dress, shocking me with its elegant beauty—and length. The silk ivory halter dress sparkled with tiny little clear crystals and creamy pearls. The shoes matched the dress perfectly. They were made of the same silk and had the same beading sewn in. The crazy old lady had even provided matching earrings. I put them on, along with a skimpy pair of panties, and stepped into the dress and shoes.

The skirt was so short there was no way I would be able to bend over. Good thing the wack-job seamstress had strategically added pleats. I’d still be able to kick up past my head if I got into any trouble. And while I normally wouldn’t have chosen a dress this sexy, the thought of what Aric would say warmed my cheeks with anticipation.

I adjusted my breasts in the halter while looking in the full-length mirror. The style enhanced my cleavage, but obviously not enough for Liz’s taste. She handed me what resembled raw chicken cutlets. “You’ll need these.”

“What are they?”

“Adhesive silicone bra cups.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Can’t I just go braless?”

“No! It’s bad enough you refuse to wear the silk stockings.”

“I don’t need them.”

Edith licked her lips. “She does have great legs.” She assisted me in attaching the bra cups—I suspected more to cop a feel than to help. When she finished, I filled out the dress significantly more.

I gaped at myself in the mirror. “Um, don’t you think this is a little much?”

Liz was seconds from taking a bite out of me. “
No
. It’s
not
. If anything, you should consider getting them professionally done. Here. Put this on. The master is waiting.” She handed me what looked like a white mink coat.

I held my hand up. “Sorry. I don’t wear fur.”

Liz scowled. “Celia, it’s a fake. It’s been magicked to resemble the real thing.” She held out the coat for me to examine. It felt real to the touch. I sniffed it, satisfied only once I smelled the polyester. “We need to go. I can feel our master growing impatient.”

We hurried to the house. Edith and Liz strutted the length of the stone pathway, wiggling their hips and throwing back their hair in perfect choreographed movements. I stumbled behind them, trying not to fall on my face in the sinfully high shoes. Their steps increased when we entered the house. Misha’s growing irritation must have beckoned them forward.

I sighed and gave up trying to chase them down. They abandoned me in the kitchen in their haste to meet their master. I entered the foyer alone, smiling when I saw Misha.

Stunned silence greeted me. My steps slowed and my smile faded. He and all the vampires stared at me like they’d never seen me before. I turned around, certain someone else had caught their attention.

“You look beautiful, my sweet,” Misha said quietly, bringing my focus back to him. He wore an amazing black tuxedo that hugged his muscular body to perfection. His ivory shirt and vest were made of the same silk as my dress and shoes. And although they lacked the beading, they somehow matched the style of my dress. “May I see the rest?”

Everyone took it as their cue to depart. Misha slowly slipped off my coat. The soft edges of the fur tickled my arms and slid down in a seductive caress. He circled me, very much like the predator he was, and examined me carefully. The sizzle in his eyes made my heartbeat accelerate. I wanted to take a step back from him and knew I should. My tigress believed otherwise. He was a predator, but so were we, she reminded me.

Misha’s lips parted slowly, like those of a lover before the start of a long, deep kiss. And while his fangs didn’t elongate and his tongue failed to beckon me for a taste, I felt his vampiric charm inviting me to him. He watched me, expecting me to react to one extreme or the other. I remained where I stood. He was my friend. I wouldn’t desert him. But I also wouldn’t welcome him to my bed.

When I didn’t react, Misha helped with my coat and pulled out my hair trapped beneath it. His hand ran down the length of my tresses and his skin radiated with the promise of seduction. “You look beautiful,” he said once more.

My voice cracked when I tried to speak. I cleared my throat. “Thank you, Misha. You look nice, too.”

Misha offered me his arm and we made our way to his Hummer limo. All four Catholic schoolgirls, Hank, and Tim waited in a row outside the colossal vehicle. They scrambled back when I reached the door. Hank opened it and ducked behind it, using it as a shield should things go
boom
. Although Ying-Ying had reinforced and booby-trapped all the vehicles against sabotage, I suppose they weren’t taking any chances.

“Allow me,” Misha said, annoyance at his family clipping his words. He slipped into the limo ahead of me, ignoring the audible gasps from his family. He then reached for my hand, pulling me in before I had time to panic. Nothing exploded, sizzled, or jolted. I didn’t so much as feel a zing. I took my seat beside Misha, thankful the coat hung longer than my skirt and that it kept all my important parts covered. The vamps piled in. At Misha’s nod they poured champagne and passed it around. I didn’t take any. I might not have been blown to bits this time, but that didn’t mean I was safe.

The other vampires laughed, gossiped, and drank the entire way to Squaw Valley. Misha and I barely said a word. When I thanked him for the clothes, he only smiled in response. In his silence I wondered what else he had planned for the night and what awaited me in the unwelcome territory known as the Den.

CHAPTER 16

When I’d first heard the term “Den,” a vision of a cold, damp cave came to mind. So did a giant bear nursing her cubs. What can I say? All the Animal Planet specials had led me astray. I hadn’t pictured the behemoth and sacred compound that awaited us where Aric served as the chancellor of students and oversaw the young
weres
training to be Guardians of the Earth.

The helicopter filled with snipers that had hovered above abandoned us at the base of Granite Chief Peak. We didn’t need them to follow us to the top, where the Den lay surrounded by snow-draped pines and firs and a Goliath stone wall. The local clan of witches had placed magical defensive wards following the first demon children attack and extended them after the disastrous Tribe invasion. Now the wards covered almost the entire mountain and snaked their way through several hidden paths along Squaw Valley.

The hum of witches’ magic buzzed around us when we passed through the border of the first ward. It irritated my skin as if it disapproved of my presence, but couldn’t harm me since I meant no ill will against the
weres
. The second ward—the one closest to the Den—shoved me with an invisible force and momentarily stole my breath. I shook it off quickly. Although the
were
magic reinforcing it made it clear I didn’t belong, again it couldn’t harm me. The vampires swore and swiveled in their seats. They’d felt it, too, though not to the extreme that I had. Misha? He had barely blinked.

We passed through the giant wrought-iron gates and into the virtual fortress. The entire campus consisted of massive three-story lodges mimicking an exclusive ski resort. The main building housing the gala was the largest and most impressive, boasting polished cedar floors, granite pillars, and floor-to-ceiling windows with breathtaking mountain views.

We arrived to a packed house. I took in a breath, hoping to catch the scent of my family, friends, or Aric. I detected no one. It bothered me. My insecurities burned a hole into the pit of my stomach. I needed my sisters and friends. Galas and charity balls were not my thing, but then again, I would have felt intimidated at a prom. Yes, I was with the vampires, and, yes, I knew them, but they would never comprehend my discomfort. This was
their
thing. They loved rubbing elbows, flirting, and flaunting their power. It helped that they also had the goods to back it up, and they damn well knew it. The good Catholics tossed back their hair and flung their hips seductively as they strolled ahead, just as they had at the house, only with a little more sass and a hell of a lot more attitude. Hank and Tim swaggered in like they were doing everyone a favor by showing up. Their smug smiles screamed seduction. My brain screamed for them to give it a rest.

Arrogance was never a quality I found attractive. Confidence, yes, but cockiness was hands-down unappealing. To other vampires it was something of a turn-on. Even a few of the witches in attendance showed interest. There was one who gave Tim the once-over. He nodded toward her, flashing his gleaming white fangs. “Genevieve.”

Genevieve was the Tahoe region’s head witch. A position I’d helped her secure, though it hadn’t been my intent. She was a beautiful woman with dark brows, waist-length ebony hair, and blue eyes that glowed like melted sapphires. When she walked into a room and raised her arms, I could swear doves and butterflies flew out of her armpits. When I raised my arms, it was usually in defense of the evil creature trying to chew them off. She matched Tim’s smile. “Maybe,” was all she told him.

Misha escorted me along the entrance hall while we waited to enter the ballroom. He had been right about the attendants; all the major players from the supernatural world mingled around us. Besides his master, Uri, and the Elders, I didn’t know any of them. But I felt them. Their command brushed against me. It was an unpleasant feeling—challenging in a way, as if their inner entities flexed their muscles in my face. I took comfort in knowing I wasn’t the sole target. Everyone seemed to be involved in pleasant conversations while subtle power struggles occurred amid the laughter and phony smiles.

“Come, my love. There is someone I’d like you to meet.”

I knew who Misha wanted to introduce me to even before we approached her. She was a vampire—an extremely powerful one who matched Misha in strength despite her blatant lack of soul. Aside from Uri, who surpassed Misha’s power only slightly, I’d never sensed a vampire strong enough be his equal. Most masters lacked Misha’s vigor. This vampire lacked nothing but clothing. She was tall and voluptuous with gorgeous light brown hair that fell perfectly straight just below her shoulders. Her bronze skin shimmered as if brushed with glitter, while her glacial blue eyes practically chilled me in place. Humans would have mistaken her for a twenty-year-old girl. Those capable of scenting potent magic, like me, realized she was well over five hundred years old. A vampire that strong had to have been
turned
a long, long time ago to have gained such supremacy.

Her hairstyle was simple. One length, parted down the middle. That’s where her simplicity ended. She wasn’t wearing any jewelry. She didn’t have to. Her skirt consisted entirely of diamonds, sewn in like the pearls on my dress. I say “skirt” because she wore no other fabric. Her breasts and part of her stomach were covered in an intricate pattern of diamonds and precious stones that appeared to have been glued on. She must have spent the entire day getting ready. I’d barely taken an hour.

She pushed her hair aside, with her perfectly manicured diamond-encrusted nails. Her smile was pleasant, childlike in a way. But this was a woman who loved attention and had absolutely no problem getting it. Male and female suitors surrounded her. Some admired her with blatant lust while others regarded her with reverence. It was easy to tell that, unlike me, this girl had never spent a dateless Saturday night shoving ice cream down her throat.

The moment Misha approached, her suitors scattered. Misha didn’t hiss, didn’t challenge, and didn’t demonstrate any show of force. Misha just was. The seemingly innocent creature turned to him and offered her hand to be kissed. “You look ravishing, my dear,” he said to her.

“As do you, beloved.” Her voice was extremely feminine, thick with a Russian accent, and highly suggestive.

Their eyes locked. Any moron could see a lot more than the exchange of pleasantries taking place. Misha glanced at her breasts, just long enough for her to notice. I looked, too, just to see whether he affected them the way he did mine. He did. Bastard. And although he wasn’t even looking at me, mine tingled slightly. When the powers that be handed out the vamp mojo, I didn’t understand how or why “capable of stimulating nipples” needed to top their superpowers list.

Misha stood and continued to hold her hand. I felt like an idiot when I realized I was still attached to his arm. I tried to leave, but yippy skippy, he stopped me. “Ileana Vodianova, I would like to present you to Celia Wird.”

She smiled at me and dropped Misha’s hand. Her eyes sparkled as she took me in, and appeared genuinely amiable and caring. I would have been a fool to believe it. “Hello, Celia. How good to finally meet you.”

I released Misha’s arm and grinned back, mimicking her phony enthusiasm. My fist knocked her in the shoulder with an obnoxious punch. “How’s it going, kid?”

It’s not that I lacked couth; I could actually be the couthiest. I wanted to make it clear that, despite all her diamonds and preternatural power, she didn’t intimidate me.
That’s right, sweetheart. I could
so
take you on.

Misha raised an eyebrow, chuckling slightly to demonstrate I was merely joking. Ileana seemed thrilled, excited even. She clutched Misha’s arm and jumped in place like an overly enthusiastic Girl Scout. “Yes, beloved. Celia will definitely do!”

My smile dropped. “Excuse me?”

Misha snaked his arm around me. “Ileana is pleased by you. She approves of our . . . connection.”

“Uh-huh.” Misha and I were
so
going to have a talk later. His half-truths pricked at my skin like needles and alerted my beast. Something was rotten in Fang Land.

Another vampire approached us. His hesitancy demonstrated his lower position in the vampire hierarchy. “Forgive the interruption, Sir Aleksandr. Baron Vladimir would like a word with Countess Vodianova.”