“But,” he says slowly, “I understand why you believe you must.”
Knox growls.
Ari whispers, “Oh, boy.”
Aldron ignores them.“But you aren’t trained, you are human, and you are still physically recovering.Those facts matter.”I open my mouth, but he lifts a hand.“They matter,” he repeats.“They don’t make you helpless.They do mean we plan around them instead of pretending rage is armor.”
I close my mouth.Annoying fucking vampire, being all logical and making sense.
Aldron turns to Akasha.“Can you mask her scent?”
Akasha frowns.“From vampires?Maybe temporarily.From shifters, yes.From a banshee, no.”
“I’m standing right here,” Knox says, voice low.
“Yes,” Aldron replies.“We’re painfully aware.”
“Don’t plan this as if it’s decided.”
“It’s not decided.”
“It sounds decided.”He is breathing hard.
Aldron’s eyes cut to him.“Then perhaps listen better.”
Cruz coughs into his fist, and Knox looks like he might murder everyone.I shouldn’t find that attractive.I do ...unfortunately.
Krishka taps the envelope.“We need to know what kind of invitation this is if it admits one, two, or a group.If there are entry requirements.Blood offerings.Masks.Passwords.”
Ari leans over it.“It says formal dress.That’s ominous.”
“Formal dress is always ominous,” Cruz says with a roll of his eyes.
Malichai picks up the invitation and reads silently.His expression hardens.“Entry requires a blood mark.”
My stomach drops.“A what?”
Aldron answers.“A drop of blood from the invited party pressed to the seal.It binds the invitation to the guest.”
“No,” Knox says.
One word.This time, no one argues.Even I understand.
If the seal binds blood, then using Moira’s invitation is not simple.Maybe impossible.Probably dangerous.Possibly another way for the monsters to know exactly who walks through their door.
Akasha takes the invitation from Malichai and holds it above her palm.Magic flickers around her fingers, soft and gold.“The blood mark is unused.”
Krishka steps closer.“Careful.”
“I am,” she replies while Korvin growls quietly behind her.Akasha smiles without looking back.“You too.”
He shuts up, and her magic brightens.The wax seal shivers before the room fills with music.Faint and muffled.A bass line through walls.My vision tunnels.The bar blurs, replaced by red velvet and candle smoke.A woman’s red nails.A silver-haired vampire.My wrists bound above my head.My mouth too dry to beg.
This one will fetch more if she lives.
I choke on the fear clawing up my throat.
Knox is suddenly in front of me.Not touching but blocking my view of the envelope.
