With a smile, Vladislov wrapped his arm around me and addressed the mob. “My bride’s name is Pearl. Be respectful.”
Cocked heads, low spoken greetings, far too much interest.
But Vladislov was on to the next thing. Snapping his fingers for a tray of snacks to be delivered by a beautiful woman dressed like a sacrifice for the gods.
Smiling, eyes downcast, she displayed what had been prepared for the humans in attendance as she described the offerings. And that is when I realized there was a clear divide between immortal and mortal.
Some came on the arms of lovers. Most came to serve.
Every last one of them was stunning.
Such as this woman, her neck marked from bites. Her wrists, her arms. Her exposed thighs. “I am of Grecian stock. My line has been fostered by Ivan. O negative, if it suits your taste.”
Her plate of food was for the human pets, and her body was for the guests.
And she was happy. I had faced enough smiles serving ungrateful men and women to know the difference.
“Ah, Cassandra. Never could I forget you.” He popped a savory bit of deliciousness between my slack lips, taking up the beauty’s arm. “I will enjoy this.”
Chewing, cheeks puffed from too large a bite, I could not respond. Instead, I watched her moan when my lover pierced her glowing skin.
He sipped.
And I hated seeing it with every fiber of my flawed being.
Before I might stop the hiss, it came from my mouth. Automatic, utterly embarrassed, my hands covered my crimson lips. I knew mortification.
And I worked to justify all of it. Of course he ate. I ate. We all ate.
But I had never seen him partake.
Had I not refused the bath of immortal blood? Yet here I was acting like a monster.
And Vladislov drank deeper.
He drank until the poor girl swooned. Until I put my hand to his bicep and asked him to let her go.
Others came to cart her off, yet her pretty figure was soon replaced. Other immortals taking a sip of the next beauty offered as a snack to the guests.
There was no need to speak of how embarrassed, confused, horrified, enticed I was.
It was so much so that I took a glass of wine from a passing human’s tray. He too was dressed as an offering and marked with the wounds of the vampire’s trade.
Drinking too fast, I coughed, spilled red wine on a red dress… and knew I was a fool.
“You’re charming when you’re jealous.”
My lip shook as I cut a glance to my right, to my tormentor. In that moment, I saw in him the window I had so desired, so needed, in my past. I saw something worth working for. And I had no idea what to make of myself or these feelings.
My thighs were already smeared in the watery aftermath of our passion. A daughter I did not remember and knew would hate me was soon to arrive. My hair was a mess, my throat itched under the collar, and I was—
Vladislov, snarled. “Why must that boy try me so?”
Boy? I looked up and saw an old man. Sporting a paunch and a threadbare sweater, regularness moved through perfection. Cut through it, more like. The sea parted.
“Erev tov, Father. This must be Pearl.”
Chapter Fourteen
Pearl
The old man smiled in the kind way I’d seen grandfathers smile at children. A calm gesture, a patient one that held wisdom and lacked… fangs. Because I could sense that he was like me, that the sharpness of what set us apart from both human and vampire was a burden. That he worked to embrace his nature yet deny his hunger.
That he understood me. That he felt compassion for a stranger.
Another Daywalker.
I wasn’t alone. Such knowledge gave me a profound sense of joy and left me reeling. “You’re like me!”
My companion scoffed. “He’s nothing like you. The boy is an impudent pain in my ass.”
Gesturing at the old man’s informal clothing, rude, and clearly annoyed, Vladislov sneered. “What were you thinking arriving in such a state? As Darius was my offspring, and Jade his daughter, you are a clear blood relation. Yet you show up to your queen’s wedding dressed like a beggar… wearing that face?”
A face lined by years yet still somehow fresh.
With a peacemaking nod, the stranger replied, “No insult was intended.”
Vladislov ground his teeth, leaving the muscles in his jaw jumping. “Your throat is uncovered.”
The old man sighed. “As my father is failing to make an introduction, allow me. My given name is Yeshua. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Pearl.” He held out a hand so I might shake it. The first being at the party aside from Vladislov who dared touch me.
I did not take his hand, not when I could feel how Vladislov seethed. Instead, I offered a polite, “Hello.”
Vladislov did not move his body in front of me, but it was as if he intended to shield me all the same. “You were warned never to approach her without permission.”