As Kaela moved away, she saw Tara lean forward, heard her teasing comment to Richard. "That was as close to a pissing match as I've seen between you and a human, my lord."
It was nothing less than the truth. Though Richard had been the one with the whips and the perceived power, it was clear Garron had kept the upper hand. In short, vampire or not, he'd proven who the top Dom was.
And as Richard had implied, in the vampire world, humans died for infractions far less than that.
Chapter Eleven
Seanna and Liam were in the process of unchaining Garron. Louis had also stepped forward to ensure Garron was truly fine--and probably to mutter "what the hell were you thinking?"--so she had a few vital seconds to establish a head start. Kaela closed her mind to any question or demand Garron might toss out to reel her back. Focusing so hard on that, she almost ran into Bridget, the velvet-corseted woman who'd been at the private staff entrance into Club Sin.
"Would you please make sure Master Garron gets the care he needs?" Kaela fished out a generous tip, transferred it into the woman's hand. "He has cuts that may need treatment. A massage would be good if he'll agree to it."
Despite her obvious curiosity at Kaela's abrupt departure, the woman's eyes lighted at the possibility of getting her hands on all those lovely muscle groups. Kaela contained the urge to snatch her money back, not that she thought cash was the woman's biggest incentive. "This will cover the cost of a professional masseuse. And please return this to him. He...uh, he took it off his wrist so it wouldn't be damaged during the scene and I was holding it for him."
She unclasped the choker from her arm and extended it to Bridget. The way her hand shook as she did it elicited a look of concern from the woman, but as Bridget's lips parted, Kaela hastily overrode anything she was about to say. "I received a message that Theodosius Vardalos needs to meet with me," she said brusquely. "He said one of his staff members could tell me where to find him at this time of night."
Bridget's fingers closed over the silver links. It took an enormous act of will for Kaela to let go of the choker, draw her hand back, but she managed it. "Can you tell me where I'm supposed to go?"
A place like Eden operated 24/7, so Kaela had assumed its Master might observe odd hours to keep it running. It didn't seem to surprise Bridget at all that Vardalos was up at this time of night, but her brow arched.
"A meeting? As in face to face?"
Kaela wasn't in the mood. "Is there any other kind of meeting?"
Bridget gave her a searching look, but pulled out her phone, dialed someone she said was Vardalos's admin. Since she'd lied about the meeting, Kaela wasn't surprised when Bridget's brows rose at whatever the admin said, but her contingency planning was cut short when the staff submissive broke the connection and nodded. "Yes, Lady Kaela. He's expecting you."
So he was willing to meet with her. His mistake.
The woman instructed her on the Master of Eden's whereabouts and Kaela left her, moving swiftly toward the ground level. By the time she was halfway across the BDSM outdoor area, she was moving at full speed, not caring if someone was confused by something faster than the speed of a human but looking a lot like one crossing their paths. She knew such things were quickly dismissed. No one wanted to believe in fantasies. Not really. Reality was what one knew.
She could kill a vampire where he stood or reduce a submissive to quivering fear. Those things were real, but none of it was true.
My lady, do not do this. Goddamn it.
She realized she hadn't shut her mind to him as securely as she'd thought. She was still so hungry for his voice, to have any part of him inside her. In a matter of hours, she'd never see or hear from him again. She forced herself to shut her mind to his protests. Even now, his wrath could make her knees weak. That was her weakness to manage, as it always had been.
We're done, Garron. Fantasy over. I'm sorry. None of this is your fault.
Richard had accepted the situation tonight, but if Garron was at a vampire dinner? Vampires held grudges, and Richard would make it his mission to bring Garron to his knees in whatever way that indulged his whims.
Bridget had said Vardalos had a night time office in one of the castle towers. A staff member was waiting to give her access through either a small elevator or a winding staircase. She chose the staircase.
The lack of human scent along the endlessly spiraling steps said it was rare anyone came this way. That suited her purpose just fine. The courteous, slim young man who'd let her through might have thought twice about letting her come up here if he'd known she intended violence once she reached her destination.
As she reached the top, she stepped into an anteroom between the elevator and Vardalos's office. The elevator had polished wooden doors, limned with brass. The heavy oak panel doors across from it were cracked open. Disappointing, because she really wanted to wrench them off their hinges. Pushing that aside, she stepped through them.
The room reminded her of a wizard's study. The huge desk was scattered with opened old books, scrolls on the floor. Two walls were all shelves of more books, bisected by a window seat that had three tall windows. The center one, a colorful stained glass, was fully revealed by the drawn curtain. The only light in the room came from it, some type of spotlight outside or a trick of the moon.
He was sitting in the shadows of one of the flanking windows. The curtains closed over it were a relentless black. He had his profile to her, though shadows cloaked his features, much as they had Garron that first day on the dock. She could tell Vardalos was looking out a crack in the curtain, though. There was a bemused expression on his face, as if he wasn't really thinking about a vampire exsanguinating him.
"Do you think you can play games with me, Mr. Vardalos?"
The more she'd exerted herself to get here, the more enraged she'd felt, and not just because of what she'd had to watch Richard do to Garron. It was the whole intrusive situation, how she'd needed and wanted this fantasy so much she'd taken leave of her common sense to embrace it. It was Garron himself, everything she'd ever wanted in a Master.
"Not at all." He turned his head slightly. If she'd had mortal sight, she wouldn't have caught it, but she got a very brief impression of a badly scarred face, one that would make Garron's look like fresh snow. "What can I do for you, Lady Kaela?"
"You promised me discretion. The privacy to make my fantasy into a reality without danger. Two vampires suddenly having the same week on Eden? That's no coincidence. You deliberately risked my life. His life."
She wouldn't forgive that. Her life was irrelevant. So many emotions were choking her, she was back to wondering if it was even going to be worth living after she left Eden.
"Garron accepted the risks when he told me he wanted you--and you know I gave him all the information I had about your world, enough that he fully understood those risks." His voice stayed even, that authoritative timbre enough to send shivers up her spine. She quelled them with her anger.
"No one fully understands those kinds of risks until it's too late."
"No. I suppose that's true. We, each of us, take a great deal on faith." He tilted his head, and she realized he still had his eyes on that crack in the curtain. The opening dropped a shaft of light across his thigh, so she saw the crease of his slacks, his other hand resting on that braced leg.
"Why did you do this?" She couldn't keep the pain from surfacing. Why did I do this?
He turned that scarred visage to her for a full second, something she expected he didn't do often. Then the shadows reclaimed him. "I bent one promise to deliver on a more important one, my lady. What I really do here is make you see how to turn your fantasy into your reality. I've given you your fantasy, not just for Eden, but for always. You had to believe it was possible for you to have a human Master who's also your full servant. You're angry, frightened and unbalanced, which makes me think I was successful. The rest is up to you. The choice is yours."
She sincerely considered tossing him head firs
t through the window. "Even gods aren't that arrogant."
"Believe me, they are. And then some. Here comes your reality now. He made excellent time."
Lights from three lamps came on, flooding the office with a golden light. The sound of that switch being flipped turned her toward the doorway, where Garron stood. When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw only Vardalos's back, clothed in a well-tailored black suit. He made his exit through a panel in the wall that seamlessly closed behind him.