Page 60 of Trapped By the Blood Ruby

“I did, indeed.” Vittorio hesitated, then said, “I am glad you are here, Miss Shaw. Enjoy.”

With that, he disappeared, but his words remained.

We enjoyed our tea service, getting hyped on sugar while spending gobs of money. I’d never had more than a hundred bucks at any one time to spare for clothes. Zola assured me that the household could afford it. They wouldn’t even blink at what we spent.

Still, I couldn’t help feeling a little guilty.

Hours later, she walked me back to my room. My feet dragged with exhaustion. “Good night, darling. Sleep well.” Zola planted a kiss on each of my cheeks before shutting the door behind me.

I was about to climb back into bed when I noticed my purse on the breakfast table. I froze. It was the fancy clutch I’d worn to the Yoshiki party. I hadn’t carried it out with me, when Laur—when he’d thrown me over his shoulder and dragged me out. Which meant…

He’d sent someone back for it.

I raced over and opened it, finding my phone, wallet, everything. My breaths came faster. My phone was dead, naturally. I glanced around and my eyes widened. There was now a new charging station conveniently located on my nightstand.

Who…?

But I knew who, and the thought made my stomach churn. Even thinking about him brought on a wave of fresh panic. I forced him from my thoughts, plugging my phone in to charge.

It turned on. There were tons of texts from Ania, along with a few of my acquaintances, mostly people I knew from the university. My email inbox was stuffed. The thought of looking at it—at any of it—left me light-headed.

I couldn’t tell anyone where I was, what had happened to me. He must have known that. That’s why he’d given it back. Zola was telling the truth then, and I didn’t know what to make of it. If they were fine letting me live a normal life under their protection, why hadn’t they just done that from the beginning?

Why make me go through⁠—

Pain wrenched my stomach. No, I couldn’t think about it. I wouldn’t let the memories of my time with the witches sweep me away. And yet, I could still feel that cold table. I called up an equation, muttering the words out loud to myself, “Dx over dy equals five x minus three.” I focused on each step, isolating dy, taking the log, then working through the rest of the equation.

My pulse slowed.

I collapsed onto the bed, closing my eyes with exhaustion. I had just enough energy to pull the blankets up and over me before I drifted off. Only, it wasn’t the witches waiting. It was something else entirely.

Laurent straightened the cuffs on his tunic, a thrill racing through him. I felt the shiver straight down my spine—his shiver. He caught Marco’s eye—or, I did. We were one and the same.

It was time. I gave my second a nod—my signal.

A thud echoed through the grand room. Then another, and another. Ballroom doors closed in succinct repetition. The palace musicians faltered and the music died, leaving silence that gave way to whispers. A second signal was given.

I unleashed myself, grabbing the nearest body—a female. She screamed as I tore her throat open, relishing the warm copper taste that flooded my mouth. It sprayed into the air, collecting in my mouth—such a vibrant taste. I dropped her. She crumbled lifelessly to the floor, her eyes open, forever glazed with fear.

I threw myself at another body. Blood sprayed, spattering my face, my hair. This one clawed desperately at my face, but her efforts were futile. I silenced her screams permanently.

Panicked screams filled the air.

My vampires moved through the grand room, through the gathered crowd, working quickly. Body after body dropped. Some fought. Those with the strength for it. But they were no match for me, for the others. I enjoyed those the most. Enjoyed ripping their hearts from their chests, their limbs from their bodies. I laughed, the sound deep and masculine, giving myself over to my bloodlust. Living for it. I paused to feed on a particularly delicious male. I drained him. One after another, they fell, humans and supernaturals alike, trapped. House Sarkas was a tide that could not be stopped—would not be stopped. We claimed every life, until only the king remained. For him, it would be slow⁠—

My eyes flew open, body trembling from the assault. I whimpered as I stumbled to the bathroom and vomited, attempting to rid myself of the taste of blood. When I finished heaving, I curled into a ball against the wall, breathing, just breathing, until I could make my my mind work.

Memories.

My head was filled with them. Zola had been vague about them, about how her sire had saved me, but I knew enough to know where they’d come from and why.

I called up a new equation.

A sheen of sweat coated my skin. No, I needed something stronger than math. I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower. I didn’t look down, couldn’t bear to look at the witch’s brand⁠—

I looked.

The sight of it ripped a sound from my throat—raw, animalistic. My hands moved without conscious thought, nails digging into the branded flesh. I wanted it off. Gone.