Silken Rapture (Princes of the Underground 2)

Too comfortable.

“Don’t speak of her.”

Aubrey straightened into a sitting position slowly. “She’s not Elysse, Blaise.”

“The crystal gives off enough vitessence that we need not feed off humans anymore,” Blaise said, determined to ignore what Aubrey had just said.

“You have never fed to the point of harm. None of the Literati do. Surely you’re not planning to play the martyr and never taste human flesh again.”

Blaise put his hand on the mantel and studied his friend. “You’ve grown callous, Aubrey. You’ve become too comfortable with your parasitic nature.”

“I am what I am,” Aubrey said, shrugging. “And I am so because you made me that way some three hundred and fifty years ago.”

“Perhaps it would have been better for the plague to take you instead of this complacency.”

“You don’t believe that. You salvaged nearly three dozen of the brightest intellectual stars of the age by turning the Literati. You wouldn’t allow this mind to grow dim under the influence of such a dirty, meaningless disease. You would regret letting this brain molder in some mass grave beneath Aldgate station. I was meant for much larger things than that.”

“Titurino is right. You are a strutting cock.”

Aubrey grinned dashingly. “I am what I am,” he repeated. He laughed when he saw Blaise’s expression. His gaze turned speculative. “Have you fed, my friend? I can’t help but notice that your mood is a bit…dark.”

“I told you, the crystal can sustain us,” he snapped. “Did you think it’s always just been words when I’ve said I despise living as a parasite off human beings for all these centuries?”

“We aren’t as yet entirely certain that the crystal can provide sufficient vitessence for long-term survival. I’m running experiments even as we speak, but I would prefer that you weren’t a subject. We need your strength, Blaise.”

“Sometimes you are as insufferable as Usan and the Magian Council. My preference is a private matter, not data for one of your bloody experiments,” Blaise said, half exasperated, half amused. When he saw Aubrey open his mouth to argue, he added more firmly. “You have seen well to my needs over the years, Aubrey, and I thank you. I know you’ve done it because you believed it was best, and because you care. If it weren’t for you, I would have found a way long ago to overcome the mandate set into my blood by the Magian to control Morshiel.”

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“By ending your own life by refusing to feed?”

Blaise heard the hint of incredulity in Aubrey’s tone. It was a long-standing disagreement between the two of them. As brilliant as Aubrey was, his friend never could quite comprehend Blaise’s longing to end this never-ending, gray torment called life. Elysse had lit his monochrome world, however briefly. Then she was gone. His need had killed her. No…he was being dishonest. His need hadn’t done it.

The truth of what he was had been what destroyed Elysse.

Now his world was ablaze again, more brilliant than ever before, and he didn’t know what do…didn’t know how to act.

He shrugged off Aubrey’s question. His friend had never seen the expression of horror on Elysse’s face when she understood fully what he was. That vision had been burned into Blaise’s mind’s eye. It would never be banished. Her shame—her disgust—had become Blaise’s own.

Aubrey sighed when he saw that Blaise would converse on the topic no further. “You say you don’t want me to speak of the woman. Aren’t you going to ask me what Michael discovered about her in his reconnaissance mission?

Blaise straightened. “Why didn’t you tell me Michael had reported in?”

“I was about to when you forbade me to speak of her.”

“Go on,” Blaise grated out.

“Her name is Isabel Lanscourt. She’s an American actress.”

He stepped toward Aubrey. “And?”

“She’s only played minor roles as of yet, but brilliantly. She’s managed to get into some major productions on Broadway. According to critics and general sentiment, she’ll eventually go far. Not too surprising.”

Blaise didn’t respond. He knew what Aubrey meant. Talented actors and actresses frequently had a forceful vitessence, although they weren’t typically aware of it. Humans couldn’t see the energy that surrounded all living things, but they reacted to it. For many actors, their powerful vitessences were made evident by their charismatic presences and instinctive ability to read and influence an audience’s energy.

Isabel Lanscourt was destined to become a magnificent star.

She would have been, anyway. If she hadn’t made the vital mistake of coming to London and having Morshiel take notice of her.