Page 153 of Blood Curse

The laughter that followed felt easy. Nobody watched the dais. Nobody checked whether Stellan approved before joining in.

I turned back to the woman. “Why gather at all? Wouldn’t taking a bottle upstairs be safer?”

“Sometimes. That’s why anyone can leave with one.” She nodded towards the tables. “Here, somebody notices if your eyes darken, your hand shakes or your glass stays empty because you’re too proud to ask.”

Elias joined us with a fresh stack of cloths. “Adrian turned that attention into surveillance. We don’t have to surrender the useful part because he corrupted it.”

A man by the window raised his glass. “Some of us have spent a century drinking alone. I’ll tolerate Mara’s opinions for company.”

“You’ll tolerate them because I control the cellar keys,” Mara said.

“There she is.”

“So the gathering is about noticing, not obeying,” I said.

“Exactly,” Stellan replied. “Anyone can leave. Nobody gets to hide behind rank when they need help.”

The room settled around me. Blood moved from bottle to glass. People drank, argued and laughed. The Crown warmed once, found nothing offered to it and cooled again.

I let out a breath.

A vampire at the next table reached across somebody’s coat for a fresh bottle. His sleeve caught an empty cup. The cup struck the stone floor without breaking, but the movement knocked a full glass from another hand.

Blood spilled across the table.

The scent hit the room like a door thrown open.

Every conversation stopped.

Hunger punched into my stomach. The Crown burned against my scalp, and my gaze locked on the red stream running over the table edge.

A man stood on the other side of it. His collar was open. A vein moved in his throat.

Mine, the Crown whispered without sound.

Cold seized my jaw.

“Offer—”

The word came out in the Crown’s deep royal voice.

The man faced me. His hands stayed flat on the table.

The rest of the order pushed towards my tongue.

I grabbed the nearest clean glass and drove it against the table edge. It broke in my palm.

Pain tore up my arm. Blood ran between my fingers.

The Crown lost the next word.

“Fuck you,” I gasped.

My voice came back as my own.

Nobody moved towards me. Nobody knelt. The man across the table touched his throat, then lowered his hand.

Stellan stopped an arm’s length away. His eyes had gone bright and cold, but his voice stayed level. “Did the command land?”