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North steps forward into the darkness. Well, I’m sure as hell not letting him go in there alone. And this is all about me and my problems, anyway. I step forward and follow him, the other two men at my back.
The dumpster and all the rest swivel back on us, closing with an ominous scraping sound, and for a second we’re in pitch blackness.
Then a door opens, and light floods in as two men enter. They’re both wearing suits and brass knuckles. I can’t see anything, but I’m pretty sure that while we were stuck in the darkness, a security system checked us out to see if we’re friends or had an appointment.
The two guards look us up and down. I can’t quite tell what kind of supernaturals they are. But they’re not vampires, I know that much. Vampires are much paler than this and you can tell they have fangs because of how they hold their jaws. Their mouths just sit differently on their faces than supernaturals without fangs.
That surprises me a little. Donovan employs non-vampires? A lot of vampires are kind of elitist, they only want vampires in their groups, but I guess Donovan’s more of an equal-opportunity sort of guy, as long as he’s top dog.
“We’ve got something for Donovan,” North says. Cain and Raven press up close to me, making it clear that they’re protecting me. “We’d like an audience.”
The two guards look at each other, then back at North, assessing. Probably wondering if they should throw us out on our asses and deal with this shit themselves, or if it’s worth bothering the boss.
At last, one of them, the one on the right, nods. “This way.”
I feel simultaneously relieved and more stressed. This is going to either clear my debt or go spectacularly wrong, and I have no idea which way it’ll go.
We’re led down a well-lit, narrow hallway, with doors on either side that seem to lead to offices. How boring and bureaucratic. I didn’t see this part of things when I was last here. I came in through an upper window and made my way down to the area where the gem was kept on display. Personally, I think that if you have an Aurora Gem and you’re showing it off in the middle of your damn evil villain lair you’re fucking begging for it to be stolen by someone, but I doubt that telling that to Donovan’s going to help. Criticizing how a guy was holding his gem when you stole it from him is not the way to get into someone’s good graces.
I hope I don’t have to tell Donovan anything at all. I hope I can just hand the key over, say sorry for stealing from him and that it won’t happen again, and be done with it. I want out of here. I can sense the vampires and my skin feels like it’s crawling.
The two guards lead us through a doorway, into a huge open area. It’s almost like an arena. It’s much larger than the outside of the building would suggest. Tall, vaulted ceiling stretch up high, like a massive cave that had the walls carefully smoothed over. Thin, Gothic columns hold everything in place. It kind of reminds me of a church, to be honest.
A few doors in the walls lead to other places. Just how big is this building?
This room was definitely built to impress. There’s really no other reason for it. Donovan will never fill it with people. There will never be huge crowds that need to get in here. It’s just to make anyone who walks in here feel small and know how much power he has, or wants to have.
It suggests a desire for power and an ambition that concerns me. I mean, I’m always concerned about vampires. They’re ambitious assholes who want to destroy my kind, but this is a little more than usual. This isn’t just simple arrogance. It suggests a lust for power that adds to my already close-to-frayed nerves.
Different people are milling about. I can see the vampires now, and my skin continues to crawl, a shiver working its way up my spine. I feel like a prey animal, and I hate it. Nobody ever gets the best of me. I’m not helpless. But fuck, I feel that way right now. I’ve literally walked into the lair of the bloodsuckers.
Raven puts his arm around me again, and I inhale carefully, exhaling slowly. I’m not alone, I remind myself. I’ve got three men with me, formidable fighters who’ve proven they’ll do anything for me. They’re here to support me. I don’t have to do this alone.
I’mgladthat I’m not alone.
Towards one end of the room is a raised area, with a large chair on it. Okay, to be honest it’s a fucking throne. The arrogant dickbag has a damn throne in his fancy cave, like he’s a king or something.
I honestly wonder if the new king of the North American vampires knows about this sort of behavior. Vampires are really big into social standing and hierarchy. He probably wouldn’t be pleased to find out that Donovan, technically the king’s inferior, has set up a literal throne room for himself.
Maybe that’s a tidbit to tuck away into the back of my mind and keep handy for later.
The man himself is sitting on his throne as the guards lead us up there. It’s a big, dark wooden chair, with designs carved into it. The designed carvings have been filled with red, so that it now looks like the chair is covered in swirls of blood.
I shiver. I hate being afraid, but I can’t help but remember my parents. What happened to them. What it felt like, how it looked. I take a few more deep breaths. Vampires can smell your blood and hear your heart beat. I don’t want to give anyone in here the satisfaction of knowing that I’m nervous because my heart rate went up.
Donovan himself isn’t how I’d pictured him. Not that I’d really pictured him at all. I’d expected someone a bit older in appearance, perhaps wearing a fancy pinstriped suit. Instead, before me is an insanely handsome man in his mid-thirties, wearing a vest and tight-fitting jeans. Like he’s about to go out for a night on the town.
Of course, the mid-thirties part is misleading. Vampires don’t age. Donovan’s definitely been around for centuries if he’s been able to amass this much power.
He lounges on his throne, a leg thrown over one of the arms, and he looks incredibly bored except for the sharp glint in his eyes.
“And what is this?” he asks as we approach. “I told you guys I prefer the trash taken outside.”
“We’re here as a peace offering,” North says.
Donovan peers around North, his eyes settling on me. “Ah. Is this tasty morsel your offering?”
North swallows his growl. “She’s the one making the offering.”
