Into the Fire (Night Prince 4)

His sire. I cast a surprised look at Mencheres. Ian didn’t seem like the type that the reserved vampire would choose for a member of his line. And what had Ian been thinking, putting silver there? He might not even notice if Vlad burned his cock off. It had to be burning like hell right now.

“Are you quite sure you don’t know anyone else?” Vlad said to Mencheres, not moving to enter the house.

“Few vampires are foolish enough to risk the Law Guardians’ wrath by practicing magic, and fewer still are alive after such reckless disobedience,” Mencheres replied. Ian shrugged, not disputing either charge. “Out of those, Ian is the only one I trust . . . after I secure his word, that is.”

“Mencheres, you wound me,” Ian said, sounding hurt.

“Do not trifle with me.” Mencheres’s new tone startled me. I had never heard him raise his voice before. “Just as I know Vlad, I know you. You would misdirect Vlad for your own amusement, let alone if someone offered you financial incentive. That is why you will promise to show Vlad and his wife the same loyalty you would show to me, and you will swear it on the love you have for me.”

Ian’s mouth curled in what could only be called a pout. “That’s not fair.”

“Swear it,” Mencheres insisted. “And before you argue any further, when was the last time I asked you for a favor? Would you truly deny me now?”

“No,” Ian said, sounding as if the word soured in his throat. “You are one of only four people that I would never deny. Very well, I swear on my love for you that I will show Tepesh and his wife the same loyalty I’d show you during the duration of whatever task you’re about to talk me into.”

A vow with conditions, but then Vlad had had conditions, too. Besides, if we were successful, we wouldn’t need Ian’s loyalty after we broke the spell that bound me to Mircea.

Mencheres turned to Vlad. “See?” he said in his usual calm manner. “Now that that’s been settled, we can proceed.”

Vlad eyed Mencheres in a way that made me wonder if he was about to take my arm, turn around, and leave. Yet finally he shrugged, as if to say, So be it.

“My vow is void if you betray me or Leila,” Vlad said to Ian, flashing him his most charming smile. “And in that case, death will be a kindness compared to what I’ll do to you.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Save your threats. Thanks to the promise Mencheres forced from me, you don’t need them. Now, what sort of magical trouble are you intending to get into? It must be more than casting a simple spell or Mencheres would’ve done it himself. Before magic became outlawed, he was one of the best practitioners around.”

“It does involve a spell, but we don’t want to cast one,” Vlad said. “We need to break one. To do that, we’ll need access to master sorcerers of even greater skill than Mencheres.”

Ian cast an annoyed look at his sire. “If you wanted to kill me, you could’ve picked a nicer way to do it.”

“This is important, Ian,” Mencheres said quietly.

“Why?” Ian asked, turning to Vlad now. “Getting tired of offing your enemies the fiery way?”

I answered before Vlad could. “I’m spellbound to a necromancer who’s being held hostage by people who want him dead. If he dies, our link means that I die, too, so finding someone more powerful to break that link is our only option.”

Ian looked at me. Not the perverted way he had the first time, but coldly, as if he could care less whether I dropped dead at his feet right that second. Then he looked at Mencheres. In quick succession, affection, resignation, and irritation skipped over his features. I didn’t know what to make of that mishmash, or of Ian’s admitted tendency to backstab for profit or amusement, but Mencheres must trust that he’d hold to his word or we wouldn’t be here. Because of that, we had no choice except to trust Ian, too. For now.

Finally, Ian’s expression settled into cheerful cockiness. When he flashed a smile that turned up the volume on his already dazzling looks, I actually felt an instinctive feminine flutter that I instantly squashed.

“Who wants to live forever anyway?” Ian said. “Right, then, we’ll start with a magic speakeasy in the heart of London. And I do hope that you’re as tough as Tepesh is, my lovely raven-haired poppet, because this will get dicey.”

Chapter 7

By “heart of London” Ian meant the seedy section, judging from the derelict alleys we walked through. If we didn’t have the vampiric ability to hypnotize anyone who approached us with nefarious intentions, we would have been mugged twice by now. As it was, the would-be muggers were the ones who lost something. I still wasn’t skilled at biting someone’s neck without causing harm, but I could handle a wrist. Vlad had been hungry, too. Ian wasn’t, saying he’d eaten earlier.

Considering Ian’s description of what we’d interrupted, I wasn’t about to ask him to elaborate. At least Ian had finally put on some clothes, although his shirt was all the way open and his jeans were so tight, the black denim looked painted on.

Mencheres hadn’t joined us, so it was just the three of us striding through the smelly, graffiti-ridden alleys. I would have liked Mencheres to come along, but he’d said it was best that he stay away since he had many enemies in the magical world due to his former wife. Vlad and Ian had nodded as if they knew the story behind that statement. I didn’t and I was curious, but it would have to wait until later. First, we had to find the speakeasy, and after half an hour of walking, I was beginning to wonder if Ian was too cocky to admit that he was lost. ire. I cast a surprised look at Mencheres. Ian didn’t seem like the type that the reserved vampire would choose for a member of his line. And what had Ian been thinking, putting silver there? He might not even notice if Vlad burned his cock off. It had to be burning like hell right now.

“Are you quite sure you don’t know anyone else?” Vlad said to Mencheres, not moving to enter the house.

“Few vampires are foolish enough to risk the Law Guardians’ wrath by practicing magic, and fewer still are alive after such reckless disobedience,” Mencheres replied. Ian shrugged, not disputing either charge. “Out of those, Ian is the only one I trust . . . after I secure his word, that is.”

“Mencheres, you wound me,” Ian said, sounding hurt.

“Do not trifle with me.” Mencheres’s new tone startled me. I had never heard him raise his voice before. “Just as I know Vlad, I know you. You would misdirect Vlad for your own amusement, let alone if someone offered you financial incentive. That is why you will promise to show Vlad and his wife the same loyalty you would show to me, and you will swear it on the love you have for me.”

Ian’s mouth curled in what could only be called a pout. “That’s not fair.”

“Swear it,” Mencheres insisted. “And before you argue any further, when was the last time I asked you for a favor? Would you truly deny me now?”

“No,” Ian said, sounding as if the word soured in his throat. “You are one of only four people that I would never deny. Very well, I swear on my love for you that I will show Tepesh and his wife the same loyalty I’d show you during the duration of whatever task you’re about to talk me into.”

A vow with conditions, but then Vlad had had conditions, too. Besides, if we were successful, we wouldn’t need Ian’s loyalty after we broke the spell that bound me to Mircea.

Mencheres turned to Vlad. “See?” he said in his usual calm manner. “Now that that’s been settled, we can proceed.”

Vlad eyed Mencheres in a way that made me wonder if he was about to take my arm, turn around, and leave. Yet finally he shrugged, as if to say, So be it.

“My vow is void if you betray me or Leila,” Vlad said to Ian, flashing him his most charming smile. “And in that case, death will be a kindness compared to what I’ll do to you.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Save your threats. Thanks to the promise Mencheres forced from me, you don’t need them. Now, what sort of magical trouble are you intending to get into? It must be more than casting a simple spell or Mencheres would’ve done it himself. Before magic became outlawed, he was one of the best practitioners around.”

“It does involve a spell, but we don’t want to cast one,” Vlad said. “We need to break one. To do that, we’ll need access to master sorcerers of even greater skill than Mencheres.”

Ian cast an annoyed look at his sire. “If you wanted to kill me, you could’ve picked a nicer way to do it.”

“This is important, Ian,” Mencheres said quietly.

“Why?” Ian asked, turning to Vlad now. “Getting tired of offing your enemies the fiery way?”

I answered before Vlad could. “I’m spellbound to a necromancer who’s being held hostage by people who want him dead. If he dies, our link means that I die, too, so finding someone more powerful to break that link is our only option.”

Ian looked at me. Not the perverted way he had the first time, but coldly, as if he could care less whether I dropped dead at his feet right that second. Then he looked at Mencheres. In quick succession, affection, resignation, and irritation skipped over his features. I didn’t know what to make of that mishmash, or of Ian’s admitted tendency to backstab for profit or amusement, but Mencheres must trust that he’d hold to his word or we wouldn’t be here. Because of that, we had no choice except to trust Ian, too. For now.

Finally, Ian’s expression settled into cheerful cockiness. When he flashed a smile that turned up the volume on his already dazzling looks, I actually felt an instinctive feminine flutter that I instantly squashed.

“Who wants to live forever anyway?” Ian said. “Right, then, we’ll start with a magic speakeasy in the heart of London. And I do hope that you’re as tough as Tepesh is, my lovely raven-haired poppet, because this will get dicey.”

Chapter 7

By “heart of London” Ian meant the seedy section, judging from the derelict alleys we walked through. If we didn’t have the vampiric ability to hypnotize anyone who approached us with nefarious intentions, we would have been mugged twice by now. As it was, the would-be muggers were the ones who lost something. I still wasn’t skilled at biting someone’s neck without causing harm, but I could handle a wrist. Vlad had been hungry, too. Ian wasn’t, saying he’d eaten earlier.

Considering Ian’s description of what we’d interrupted, I wasn’t about to ask him to elaborate. At least Ian had finally put on some clothes, although his shirt was all the way open and his jeans were so tight, the black denim looked painted on.

Mencheres hadn’t joined us, so it was just the three of us striding through the smelly, graffiti-ridden alleys. I would have liked Mencheres to come along, but he’d said it was best that he stay away since he had many enemies in the magical world due to his former wife. Vlad and Ian had nodded as if they knew the story behind that statement. I didn’t and I was curious, but it would have to wait until later. First, we had to find the speakeasy, and after half an hour of walking, I was beginning to wonder if Ian was too cocky to admit that he was lost.