Page 91 of You’re So Vein

As Dante takes my hand and leads me up onto the stage, I dare a look behind me. Augustin stands frozen in the middle of the crowd, his menacing horns only adding to the vision of him as a vengeful forest god. His eyes are incendiary. I know he doesn’t like Dante for some reason, but…

… is his rage because of me?

I’m not sure how I feel about that. No, that’s not accurate. My brain warns me that “touch her and die” jealous men are hot in dark romance novels, not in real life, but the message hasn’t got to my ovaries, which are jumping with delight to see horny Augustin go all feral.

The stage has become a vampire dance floor. Bodies twist around us as a woman sings a sultry jazz number about eternal love. I start to move my hips, and Dante pulls me in close. The man knows how to dance.

“I’m intrigued by you.” He leans in, brushing his lips against my earlobe so I can hear him over the music and the pulsating crowd. “And your friends. Humans who know of our existence but who are not afraid. Arabella Lestrange has deemed you worthy of her presence, which in itself makes you fascinating. And your friend Celeste has an enticing smell.”

Because she’s a werewolf, but hopefully you won’t figure that out.

“You’ve been sniffing my friends?”

“Forgive me, but of all of you, Celeste intrigues me the most.” He smiles then, and it might’ve been friendly if not for the fangs.

The tempo picks up. All around me, vampires move as if they know the dance. Dante’s hand on me are firm, playful, but also gentlemanly. Every time he spins me past the bar, Augustin’s molten eyes flash in my vision. His gaze dances over me even when I can’t see him, blazing against my skin like a forest fire. I tighten my grip on Dante, ignoring the way Augustin’s attention tightens around my heart. I’m on a mission.

I try to get Dante to talk about Kael or Lilac, but he shakes his head softly, changing the subject. Instead, I follow a different thread.

“Can you explain something to me about your job?” I ask. “How do you make ‘vintage’ blood?”

I worry that he won’t tell me, because every vampire I’ve met holds their secrets close. But Dante strikes me as a guy who likes talking about himself.

I’m right.

“Blood sommeliers like me experiment with blends, storage and extraction, and other processes. We’ve learned that certain factors affect the flavour profile of blood – such as a human’s profession, whether Upyr regularly drank from them, and whether the blood was extracted from a living donor or a corpse.”

I shudder at the mention of corpses. “How do you extract blood for your drinks?”

“My, how your scent trembles with fear!” Dante laughs gently. “We are not barbarians, Komal. It’s true that many of the oldest vintages were extracted from the dead. Upyr would often swoop in after a vicious battle or religious massacre and fill their cellars with blood to last them many dark seasons. The blood of the newly dead can taste astringent, but ageing it a hundred years or so gives it a beautiful, rounded palette.

“The earliest extraction method, dated to the ninth century AD, was to use what was effectively a thin straw inserted into the vein, but it could be painful for the victim… er, I mean, donor. During my early years as an Upyr, I invented a new machine – the di Sangro Siphon. The device pierces the skin and extracts blood in a way that mimics the suction of an Upyr bite. We coat the needles in Upyr saliva, so they cause no pain and the wounds close quickly. The machine is so effective that the design has barely changed since I first invented it.”

Something occurs to me. “Would these machines leave a mark on a human’s skin around the puncture wound?”

“Usually no, but there is an attachment where the needle goes in that, if the machine were shoved in forcefully, might leave a circular bruise.”

My heart races. “And could someone use a di Sangro Siphon on a vampire?”

Dante stops in his tracks, sending me crashing into him. He catches me in his arms, pulling me tight against him, pressing his body against mine. His fangs kiss my ear as he whispers, “That’s a dangerous question.”

“I’m a dangerous woman,” I whisper back.

“Of that I am certain.” He scrapes his fang over my ear. I search for Augustin, but all I can see is Dante’s shoulder and the edges of his plumed mask. “We don’t advertise it, but the truth is that while the needles wouldn’t normally pierce vampire skin, if they were coated in vampire blood, a siphon would work on an Upyr as well as any human. Dusk Court magic requires the use of blood, and while cutting oneself with a ritual dagger is more dramatic, using a siphon is less messy. Vampires who are not privy to Dusk Court secrets find this unsavoury, so it’s not discussed.”

This changes everything.

“And anyone can purchase a siphon?”

“My company is the only manufacturer, although I suppose there may be cheap knock-offs.” Dante laughs. “I sell to other sommeliers and Dusk Court magicians. My client list is quite exclusive. But they also come up for sale on the Sepulchrr app from time to time. Tell me, why are you so interested in this? Do you wish to purchase a siphon?”

My heart hammers against my ribs. “Perhaps I liked the taste of blood. Could I?”

“You continue to be intriguing. But no, we’d never sell one to a human buyer—”

Dante’s next words transform into a yelp as he’s torn from me. Upyr gasp as he sails through the air and lands on top of the food table, breaking it and sending a tray of Celeste’s blood desserts careening across the floor. I turn to see who threw him.

Augustin stands on the dance floor, shoulders heaving, eyes immolating with rage, antlers gleaming beneath the sparkling lights.