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Victorine drew herself up to her full height. “Do I look stupid?”
“No.” His smile turned rueful. “Look, I’m sorry if I broke some unwritten rule. But don’t blame Zoe. This was all my doing.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that for a moment.” She flicked a finger. Étan and the enforcers flowed forward in a black triangle, taking Rafe with them into the penthouse. With a snap, the door shut behind the four of them.
I rounded on my mother. “He’s done nothing wrong, damn it. I’m here because I want to be.”
Her hand slammed into my throat, shoving me against the wall.
Jean-Michel drew a breath. “Victorine…”
“Quiet,” she hissed and he subsided. “Youslut.” She shook me by the throat like I was a naughty kitten. “You think I’d let you risk getting pregnant by a Kral? And a dhampir, yet?”
I knew better than to fight back. She was twice my strength and ten times more ruthless.
“I’m sorry,” I said as best I could past the bruising grip she had on my throat.
From the penthouse came the thump of flesh against flesh, and a stifled groan that I knew had to be Rafe.
My stomach contracted.
“I trusted you.” Victorine shook me again. “You were supposed to get close enough to make sure he didn’t try any tricks. Not let the bastard seduce you.”
She set me back down. “You’re weak. Just like him—a dhampir.” She shook her head. “Maybe I should let you have each other.”
My gaze slid to the side.Maybe you should, whispered the bold, happy Zoe.
But that was crazy talk. We both knew she’d never let me go. Not her only spawn.
“I’m sorry.” I schooled my face to show no more emotion than my cramped, stunted heart. “It won’t happen again.”
She jerked the door open. Rafe was on his knees, the vampires looming over him. Étan had my panties in his hand. He threw them in Rafe’s face with a feral growl, followed by a vicious kick to his ribs.
Someone moaned. I didn’t know it was me until Étan’s head snapped around.
“Well?” Victorine asked me. “What do you have to say to him?”
Blood trickled from Rafe’s temple. His left arm dangled at his side; the wrist bent at an unnatural angle. He looked up at me and attempted a smile through his bloodied lips. “Sorry.”
Do something.
Étan sneered. “She doesn’t need your apology, dhampir.” In the past few years, the hundred-year-old vampire had shot up the hierarchy to become Victorine’s most trusted man, but this was the first time she’d allowed him to speak for her.
Rafe growled. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
“No?” Étan hit him open-handed. Rafe’s head snapped to the side. An enforcer grabbed his broken arm and twisted it further.
I lurched forward. “Enough.”
My mother’s arm shot out, blocking me. “Think,” she hissed. “You’re a princess. My only spawn. And he’s a dhampir.”
I opened my mouth. Shut it.
Speak up for Rafe, and I’d lose everything. Rafe might be a syndicate prince, but he’d never be good enough for Victorine. Vampire spawn didn’t mate with dhampirs, especially vampires as high in the hierarchy as me.
And recently, my mother had said she was considering promoting me to lieutenant.
Rafe could never be more than a guilty pleasure.
