Page 100 of Let Sleeping Vampires Lie

He lowered his voice a fraction. “That is why most of them came.”

His gaze drifted over my shoulder. I did not need to look to know buyers watched us, curious about the woman Marcus greeted as if she were an equal.

“You should take your seats,” he said. “The hosts will begin soon. They like their guests arranged and quiet before starting.”

“Where are you sitting?” I asked.

“Second row,” he said. “Left of center. Close enough to evaluate merchandise, far enough to leave quickly if someone loses their temper.”

“That seems wise.”

He tilted his head toward a set of tiered seats arranged before the raised stage. “They placed you third row. Position five. It means they expect you to bid seriously.”

“They are correct,” I said.

“I know,” he replied. “Try not to buy anything you do not need on the way, though. There are items on tonight’s list that are reputed to be cursed.”

“I will control myself,” I said.

“Hardly,” Con muttered.

Marcus watched our exchange with amusement. “You have more of a sense of humor than Rene.”

“Low bar,” I replied.

He bowed slightly. “Take your seat, Cassara. I will do what I can from here.”

“You already have,” I said.

His expression shifted for a moment, something like regret passing through his eyes. Then it vanished, replaced once again by the charming broker mask.

He melted back into the crowd and settled in his own section, near enough that I could keep him in sight if I angled my head slightly.

Con and I moved toward the seating area. Chairs lined in dark leather faced a raised platform where a simple podium stood. Behind it, a velvet curtain stretched across the wall, hiding whatever storage and staging area lay behind.

The room’s hum lowered by degrees as people began to sit.

I claimed my assigned seat. Con stood just behind my shoulder. He did not take a chair. His role tonight was security, not buyer.

One of the enhanced guards took a position near the aisle. His gaze moved over us without lingering. Another guard mirrored him on the opposite side.

The lights dimmed slightly. A subtle shift in the air followed, like the intake of a collective breath.

“Welcome,” a voice said.

A man stepped onto the stage. He was not tall, but he carried himself with the easy confidence of someone who knew everyone in the room had paid dearly for this access. His tuxedo fit perfectly, his hair silver at the temples, his face unremarkable in that careful way that made it hard to recall his features later.

“No names,” he said. “No introductions. You all know what you are here for.”

Soft, polite laughter moved through the audience.

“Items will appear in order,” the host continued. “You will see enough to satisfy you. You will bid as you see fit. You will not touch anything unless invited to do so.”

His gaze swept the room.

“Security is present. You already know this. Behave and you leave with your purchases. Misbehave and you leave in a bag.”

His tone never shifted from courteous.