Lolita groans after downing all three bottles. “Oh, sweet relief.”
In true Lolita fashion, she ignores Amber while Amber works. It barely takes twenty minutes to get a good blouse back into place. Whether it’s better isn’t entirely clear seeing as the state of the previous blouse was like Cujo’s chew toy.
My cousin stands up, poses in front of the dozens of mirrors we have available in the public powder room, and then flips around to face Amber. It’s the first time she seems to acknowledge my bloodbag.
“You sweet child,” she praises. “And they say humans should never be paired with vampires. What a silly thing to say!”
Amber focuses on the carpet between her and my cousin. “I don’t understand.”
“Oh, your sister,” Lolita chimes. “Well, she’s been the name of the week, hasn’t she, Darius?”
I brush my hand over my coat. “Indeed.”
“Nightworth is setting quite a stage. Noctis forbade vampire-human romantic couplings about a hundred years ago. Those poor girls.”
“Poor girls?” Amber parrots.
Lolita laughs. I step toward her to interrupt but she pushes me aside. “Yes, the poor girls all strung up and murdered right here in this manor. Darius should have told you.Their cousin Bartholomew is the reason why vampires banned such affairs.”
It’s no secret that vampires don’tneedto breathe.
But the pulsating pain in my lungs prompts me to gulp mouthfuls. “That’s quite enough, Lolita. Thank you for the history lesson. Glad my bloodbag could help. Alrightgoodnightnow.”
I’ve just about rushed my three cousins out of the powder room and toward a far more interesting sight—bloodbags clad in sheer outfits—to keep them from coming back when Lolita spins around to shout, “I’d like to hire you for my wardrobe!”
Slam.
The door doesn’t quite shut. It snaps back a crack, revealing my nosy cousin’s eyeball. I’m ready to pinch both eyeballs out of her skull when I hear the softest sound behind me.
It’s Amber. She’s staring at the mirror with her hand around her throat. She’s not shaking. But I can tell she wants to start.
I’m at her side in a millisecond. “I apologize for my cousins. They have no manners where they come from. New York is like an entirely different universe in the underground. Why, vampires are able to keep cover through the years by posing as private investors most of the time, but my gods, the kingdom up there? They practicallyflirtwith devastation by wandering around with their heads—”
“How were they killed?”
Ghastly pale features reflect in the mirror. She’s so pale, so small, sohelpless.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders. And to my shock, she leans into me.
“Butchered,” I say quietly. “Disemboweled. Miami practically went on a witch hunt for the killer.”
“What happened?”
It’s like a sandstorm in my throat. Glasslike grains irritate me, words I thought I wouldn’t ever repeat. None of our bloodbags ever knew. Why would I have told Amber? “Bartholomew was sick. He fell in love with several women. It’s our nature, you know. Non-monogamy.”
“I get it.”
“He just fell in love with them. He never was quite right. He kept a whole harem of them in the basement.”
She tilts her chin slightly. “Where the bloodbags usually stay?”
“No,the dungeon.”
She shivers. “Decrepit.”
“He chained them. Yet they claimed to love him. It was a scandal for the ages. He killed them off over the course of several weeks. When my father discovered his crimes, he was caged.”
“Caged?”