“His sentence was quite severe, Ms. Audridov. Like me, he couldn’t care less about your show of sympathy.”
Eleni didn’t tell him she hadn’t gone to Rubio’s trial. She’d been too sick at the time, under constant supervision. Still, his tone put her teeth on edge. “Zander made his bed—”
“As have you, with your lack of judgment,” Vidam snapped. “Was it not in your power as an Acolyte to refuse his fangs? To tell him you would not accept the bite of any other vampire? I can only imagine the gross number of times he and others must have bitten you daily to produce such an illness. Your disgrace is only the beginning of this problem, do you see? If I were to allow you to retain your status, where would I even place you? What Biter would have you in house, much less his harem? You’ve been ill used. You’re damaged goods, Ms. Audridov. This is the problem, and I’m left to wonder if it would even be worth the effort.”
“Julian de Sevigne is prepared to take her into his household,” Dominic interjected.
Grigori Vidam’s gaze snapped to his face. He scoffed. “de Sevigne? You’ve been in contact with him? One would think him dead considering his lack of interaction with the outside world. Where is he living now?”
“Where he has always lived, I would imagine—in the Sévigné chateau. The family lands in the Périgord Pourpre are still his.” Dominic gestured his indifference with a wave of his hand. “More importantly, he’s aware of Eleni’s delicate condition. He’s agreed to take her in regardless of her status. He’s a traditionalist, and will pay careful attention to her requirements. I will stake my blood name on that as truth. As Eleni’s current guardian, I have accepted his offer, bearing the council’s decision, of course.”
The Regent Elder’s eyes glittered in cold calculation as he silently contemplated what Dominic said. Finally, he took a deep breath, his mouth drawn down at the corners, and picked up his pen. He wrote in the Book of Acolytes for several minutes. Turned a delicate, razor-fine page, and wrote some more.
Eleni glanced over at Anya, who watched her with fear in her blue eyes. Finally, Vidam put down his pen and sighed deeply. He closed the huge leather book.
“Very well. If it satisfies everyone involved, Ms. Audridov shall be placed into the care of Master Vampire Julian de Sévigné of France. But consider this a probationary arrangement to be revisited in four months.” His hard expression never wavered. “Make no mistake, Ms. Audridov, if you have not truly mastered your illness, if you cannot prove to me in four months’ time that you can readapt to the lifestyle of an Acolyte, both as a lover and a donor, I will not hesitate to place you in permanent disgrace and sever you from your bloodline. Doing so will place a black mark against the Audridov name. I hope you keep that in mind. Biter’s Addiction runs in families. The family lines are like a garden—weeds must sometimes be plucked to ensure the health of the rest of the crop. You will be watched closely, am I understood?”
She swallowed hard. “Clearly.”
“Then so it is written,” the Regent Elder announced to the room. “This hearing is adjourned.”
Numb to the core, Eleni could barely breathe. It hadn’t yet settled in—the full implication of the verdict. Dominic threaded his arm through hers and quickly led her away toward the door, stopping only to wait for Anya, who was heading toward them, sobbing into a handkerchief, her eyes rimmed-red and brimming with tears.
It could have been much worse, but it still wasn’t over. Eleni’s heart sank like a stone as her sister embraced her, rambled in her ear that it would all be okay. Dominic allowed his wife a moment, then took her by the shoulders and directed her toward the door. “We really should get out of here.”
Eleni followed them across the room and was right behind Dominic when Grigori Vidam called out to her.
“Eleni Audridov.”
She halted at the door and turned. Dread pooled like blood in the core of her stomach. The room had grown suddenly silent. Vidam’s piercing gaze sent a shiver down her spine.
“Know that had it not been for Dominic, you would be stripped of your status right now, and removed from society. This is an opportunity very few Acolytes would have been granted in the same situation.” His serious expression turned grave. “Do not think to take advantage of my generosity.”
She swallowed hard, and bowed her head in respect. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I suppose we will know when we see each other again in May,” he challenged.
Eleni frowned as heat swept across her face. Embarrassed, she wondered if Rubio had seen Vidam’s slight. She glanced up at the balcony box overlooking the library floor. Zander Rubio wasn’t paying attention to her at all. He was arguing violently with two members of his household, and a reddish-haired man whose face she couldn’t see.
Chapter Two
France
Twilight fell over the patchwork landscape of Ville Cleménce. It was late Sunday, and a light snow fell in silent swirls from the darkening sky. Eleni held her breath as the charter plane touched down on the private runway. The flight from Paris seemed almost like a dream, numb and colorless, as if she were suspended in a world of gray. The bouncy landing drew her back to the real world, and as the plane finally slowed and exited the runway, Eleni sat straighter. On the edge of the frosty tarmac, a limo waited. The plane rolled to a stop, and she anxiously stared out her window until the co-pilot drew her attention. He had let down the side-steps so she could disembark, and was waving her forward.
She paused for a moment to pull on her red wool coat, then took down the travel bag she’d carried onboard with her. She walked up the aisle and ducked her blonde head to peer out of the charter plane. The world had been wiped clean with a thin layer of snow. She hoped it was an omen for the future. Stepping off of the plane, her breath frosted white on the cold air. The co-pilot waited for her at ground level, and held a hand out to help her step carefully down to the pavement.
A limousine with dark tinted windows was parked at the side of the runway. Seeing it, she felt a brief stab of panic. The car wasn’t a surprise, but the possibility that Julian had come for her himself startled her. She hadn’t considered he might do that.
As she started across the tarmac, the door of the car opened and an elderly man, of average height and build, stepped out. There was nothing remarkable to remember him by, other than the gaunt, if somewhat rosy, face. He wore a black beret pulled low over his eyes, black driving gloves and a buttoned up pea coat in a dreary shade of brown. Unassuming and anonymous, he was the kind of man you could lose easily in a crowd.
He didn’t come forward to greet her. Instead, he shouted something in French to the co-pilot and went around to the back of the car, opening the trunk for her luggage, which the men were now carrying from the plane.
Eleni followed the driver. “Julian?”
“
Non, Mademoiselle
. Henri.” He tapped his chest with a gloved finger. “I drive you to Master Julian’s chateau.”
Eleni stepped out of the way as the pilot and the co-pilot, two healthy looking middle-aged men, brought her bags around to the back of the car. They set some of them in the trunk, the others they set down near Henri’s feet. The pilot left first, his gaze roving over her briefly before he stalked off toward the plane. The co-pilot lingered. He exchanged a few brief words in French with Henri, words that Eleni couldn’t interpret, then the tan, gray haired man laughed and gave Henri a hearty pat on the back before he started toward the plane. Henri placed the last two cases in the back of the car. Eleni watched him, shivering in the cold, not sure whether she should go ahead and get in the car or wait for him.
“Come, Mademoiselle.”
He walked her around the car and opened the door for her, and she took a step forward. When she glimpsed an open fur coat and crossed legs in sheer stockings, she hesitated. Her gaze jumped to see the face, but it was concealed beneath a large hat with a black veil. Without a doubt, the woman was a vampiress.
“Enter or shut the door,” the woman said in a thick French accent. Eleni slid into the seat. The interior of the car smelled of rich leathers and the fading crispness of the cold air. Henri closed the door for her, sealing her in, and Eleni swept her hair from her eyes. It took her vision a moment to adjust to the darkness of the car.
The woman drew back the veil and removed her hat, revealing a wealth of sleek, auburn hair and delicate, pale features. Her lips were painted a bright matte red.
“Welcome, Eleni.” The tips of her fangs gleamed like little pearls when she spoke, and Eleni jumped when the woman leaned forward and greeted her with a kiss on both cheeks. The vampiress pulled back, her eyes sparkling like emeralds. “I am Marguerite de Sévigné. Julian sent me to pick you up this evening. I hope you don’t mind. He rarely leaves the chateau these days.”
“You live with Julian?” Eleni asked. The woman dazzled her with a smile.
“I have my own chateau, and my own harem to care for. Julian is a cousin. We’re separated by centuries, and several generations, of course.” The car was moving, and for a moment, she glanced out at the landscape scrolling by. “Men, they are demanding souls, you know? I don’t think it ever changes for them, regardless of age.” She laughed softly. “Julian is no different. When he needs something his servants cannot provide, he calls on me to do what I can.”
“You’re lovers? You and Julian?” Eleni asked, unable to hide her shock.
Marguerite laughed, then reached over and patted Eleni on the thigh. “Ah, Eleni…as much as I adore my dear Julian, I could not put up with him to that extent. No, he’s not my lover. I’m afraid that role will be left entirely up to you.”
That was a relief. She nodded, but her face was hot and red from her faux pas. She wasn’t really sure what else to say or think. There seemed to be a double entendre in almost everything the vampiress said. She fiercely hoped that Marguerite and Julian were not lovers. She’d been told that he had no harem, but he had to have a blood source. Eleni hadn’t anticipated this new worry. The Sévigné’s were from old aristocratic stock, and vampires had their own rules regarding relationships. It was not unheard of for cousins to enter an arranged marriage in an effort to keep the bloodline pure.
The vampiress reached out and took her hand, and Eleni jumped, even though the gesture was gentle enough. Marguerite’s skin was cool and smooth as silk. Her nails were long and red, and filed to perfect ovals, so very different from Eleni’s hands. Perhaps the woman found humor in Eleni’s French manicure. She had no idea what the woman was thinking when she turned her hand palm up, exposing her wrist. The vampiress traced a long red nail over the fine blue veins beneath Eleni’s pale skin, making her shiver.
A curious smile curved Marguerite’s lips as she laid Eleni’s hand back in her lap. “You are the very essence of loveliness.” Magnetic green eyes pierced Eleni’s own. It seemed they held a thousand secrets. “Yes, I do believe you will be to Julian’s liking.”
They drove east into the hills along a narrow, winding road, and when Eleni looked off to her right, down in the valley below, she could see the actual village for which the area was named. It looked like something out of a photograph, a dense cluster of stone buildings with slate gray roofs dusted with snow. She studied the peaks and angles of the buildings until a stand of trees blocked her view. By then they had rounded a deep curve, and the village disappeared from view as the car turned north.
Five minutes later, Marguerite pointed up the hill to her left. “Le Chateau du Sévigné.”
Eleni barely glimpsed a segment of gray stone before the trees thickened and obscured it from view. A short distance later, the land leveled out and the landscape opened into a sleeping vineyard arranged in stark rows, the wooden trellising poking through the snow.
“All of this,” Marguerite gestured toward the scene scrolling past the window, “every hectare, is Julian’s. You have heard of Sévigné wines?”
“I have,” she said, and it was not entirely a lie. Dominic told her Julian was a vigneron, although admittedly, she hadn’t given it much thought. Her former Biter had lived off investments and gifts from the Acolytes in his sizeable harem. She had been one of those women providing financial gifts, and even now, the memory of it upset her. Before his fall, Zander Rubio had lived a life of privilege off the backs of others. On the other hand, the way Marguerite spoke of the land and its history, the vineyard was clearly a matter of pride to the family. Still, the mere thought of Rubio agitated her. Eleni frowned at the sudden rise of anxiety. Her hands shook. She tucked them into the folds of her coat to keep Marguerite from noticing, but it was too late.
“You are nervous?” Marguerite asked.
“A little. It’s been years since I last visited France.”
Marguerite laughed. “Nothing changes that much.” She turned her head, her eyes shifting color yet again as the car passed under the shadows of trees, making the interior even darker. “No matter where you go, it is the same. You will see.”
It took another ten minutes to reach the chateau. They wound their way up the hill, and when the drive leveled out, Henri turned off onto a narrow road marked
privé
. They passed the shelter of snow-laden evergreens, and at the end of the paved drive, the mansion sat, regally overlooking the estate. It looked like something straight out of a fairy tale, three stories of old stone with twin turrets capped with gray, pointed roofs. It was lit both inside and out so that it glowed in the early nightfall.
Henri drove directly into the attached garage, and killed the engine. Eleni’s insides churned with anxiety.
“Henri will take care of the bags,” Marguerite said, excitement in her voice. She threw open the car door and smiled, showing a flash of fangs. “Come. I’m excited for you to meet Julian.”
Eleni didn’t know what to expect. Nerves frazzled, she stumbled a little when she climbed out of the backseat. Marguerite caught her arm to steady her, and heat blazed across Eleni’s face.