Masquerade (Vampires Realm Series Book 7) (Reading Sample) - Felicity Heaton (paper ebook reader .txt) 📗

get away from it all and focus on herself for a while and her happiness. Perhaps her sire knew some men and could introduce her to them. He had often asked whether she had taken a man into her bed yet and her answer was always the same. She was too busy for relationships. Love could come later. The trouble was, later never came. It was definitely time to change that and seize the moment.

The servants decorating the spacious entrance hall parted to make way for them as they entered and watched as they passed. Some of the other vampires moving through the room stopped too, their eyes on her. Blood. She smelt of death.

How long had it been since these gathered vampires had tasted fresh blood straight from the vein? Lord Timur had them all caught up in the mansion most nights, protecting the grounds or busy with the masquerade preparations. Sometimes Sophis felt as though he wanted to cage them all and let them weaken as he had done after a hunter had attacked him in the city and killed several of their guards. Years had passed since then and things still weren’t back to normal.

There were many in her bloodline who believed that Timur was a weak leader now, intent on hiding rather than fighting, and many more believed that the Chosen Son or Chosen Daughter should kill him and take his place. Neither of them seemed inclined to rise up against Timur though. He was their sire and had selected them as his second in command for that reason, knowing that they wouldn’t turn against him no matter how dire the situation became.

He might be able to control them, but could he control everyone else in the bloodline? She had overheard several conversations between guards, whispered talks about the weakness of their leader and their desire to take his place.

Sophis’s gaze tracked to one side when two women stepped out of the green reception room and paused to watch her and Vivek cross the vestibule. Lorna, elegantly dressed as always in a fine midnight blue satin gown and adorned with jewels, was the epitome of a Chosen Daughter. Graceful, refined and beautiful with her glossy long blonde hair tumbling around her slender shoulders, blue eyes surrounded by dark make-up and a touch of crimson staining her lips, no woman in the Venia bloodline could contend with her. Behind her stood a more meagrely clothed petite brunette. Cara. Lorna’s aide.

Sophis bowed her head in acknowledgement of her superior and Lorna’s soft gaze shifted to Vivek, her brow puckering as her eyes came to rest on the cargo he carried on one broad shoulder.

She seemed intrigued but Sophis couldn’t tell whether it was because they had returned with a body full of fresh blood or because it was a dead hunter.

Cara leaned in and whispered something to her mistress and Lorna moved on, drifting across the hall and up the staircase.

What was it like to be chosen?

It wasn’t something Sophis was ever likely to experience. Chosen Daughter and Chosen Son were ranks second only to the bloodline’s lord or lady, and were selected by that person. They acted as envoys for the family and carried out elite duties such as attending all the finest balls and assisting with the running of the bloodline. They were prestigious and sought after positions, and not only because of the political power those chosen gained. If a vampire hunter or vampire outside of the bloodline killed the ruler of their family, the Chosen Son or Chosen Daughter rose to the position of lord or lady by default. Many times in the past bloodlines had changed rulers this way, but there were many more instances where someone within the ranks had sought to rule their family and had killed the current head of it themselves. If a ruler died by the hands of one of their kin, their position passed to that vampire.

Vivek fell into line beside her as they descended the stone steps to the basement of the mansion, heading into the gloom.

She had heard Vivek talk of killing Timur and taking his place but it was just that—talk. Vivek had no interest in the politics of running a bloodline. He was a soldier, like her, and like Commander Tynan.

In time, Lord Timur would allow things to return to normal and the disquiet in her bloodline would fade away. Timur had ruled them well until recently and her bloodline would forgive him. He had been the one to save it from the tyranny of their previous lord and restore it to its former strength after all.

She rapped her knuckles on the door of Tynan’s office and waited.

“Enter.”

Sophis twisted the brass handle and pushed the door open, allowing Vivek to go through first. She followed him into the cream windowless room and closed the door behind her, and then joined Vivek in front of Tynan’s desk.

Tynan raised a dark eyebrow at Vivek and the dead man slumped over his shoulder. Sophis pressed her hand to her chest, saluting him.

“I send you on a scouting mission and you bring me a dead hunter?” Amusement warmed Tynan’s deep brown eyes and his Russian tinged voice. “It is like a cat bringing back a present to its master.”

Sophis had never had a cat in her human life and the creatures didn’t like her kind, but she knew they were loyal animals, and she also knew that Tynan was mocking her and Vivek.

She waited for Vivek to react but he didn’t. He placed the dead hunter down on one of the chairs in front of Tynan’s desk, sitting him there in a way that made him look alive, and then straightened.

“We counted nine hunters in one building in the commercial district. Two of those were Aleksis and Izabella Romanov. They spoke of lords but not of the ball, although I suspect that is the reason they are gathering. I believe that the group we found tonight is just one of many.”

“We also believe that this hunter was enhanced,” Sophis said. “I drained him of blood and Vivek suggested that we bring him to you. He should turn if he was enhanced. We can question him about Aleksis Romanov’s plans.”

Tynan’s eyebrow shot up again and he leaned back in his black leather chair and pressed his fingertips together, forming steeples in front of his face. He stared at them both for long silence filled seconds, tapping the tips of his index fingers against his lips, and then nodded.

“Very well, I will send scouts out tonight.” Tynan sat up, placed his hands palm down on the table, and stood. He grabbed his black military-style jacket from the hooks on the wall behind his desk and slipped his arms into it. “I will lead them. You have done well.”

Sophis frowned. “Aren’t you going to send us back with our squads so we might destroy the hunters now?”

Tynan’s jaw ticked and his lips compressed into a thin line that spoke of anger as clearly as his scent.

“Lord Timur has different orders for you,” he said in a tight voice and fastened the V of gold buttons on his jacket. “You will dispose of this hunter in the cells and then join your squads for patrol around the grounds. Our lord will not allow any below the rank of elite out into the city between now and the end of the ball.”

Madness.

“If we took our teams out now, we could dispatch those hunters. It would be a warning to the rest. They would think twice about whatever they are planning.” Vivek’s words matched those running through her head and the spike in his anger on her senses drew a response from her own feelings.

It was insanity to let the remaining eight hunters live.

“If we kill Aleksis and Izabella now, we could prevent an attack during the masquerade. Let us take our teams into the city and dispose of them.” Sophis broke away from Vivek’s side, stepping towards Tynan, and regretted it the moment she did.

Tynan turned dark eyes on her. “Back in line, Sophis. Remember your place... and mine. It is not our decision to make. Lord Timur has spoken and we shall obey. If we cross paths with the hunters, we shall deal with them. If we remain undetected, then we shall simply carry out the orders given to us and gather information. I understand your eagerness to see these specific hunters dead but we must obey our lord. Understood?”

Sophis stumbled back into line with Vivek and pressed her right hand to her chest, lowering her gaze to the toes of her boots. “Yes, Commander Tynan. I apologise for my outburst.”

“There is something you two can do. I was asked to select two guards to oversee the internal security for the ball.”

Sophis lifted her head and stared at Tynan with wide eyes. “You want us to do it?”

Tynan ran a hand over his short dark hair and gave her a look that conveyed just how big a risk he was taking by assigning this to two captains, and them in particular. It was a job for elite guards not someone of their rank.

“I want you to do more than oversee it.” Tynan clipped the short collar of his black jacket closed. The elaborate gold embroidery on it that signified him as a commander shone brightly against the dark material, reflecting the light from the lamp on his oak desk. “I want you to go undercover at the ball. No one will know you are there except myself and Lord Timur. Do you understand?”

Sophis understood perfectly well what he wanted them to do, she just didn’t understand why. It was an honour to be chosen for this mission, one she felt unworthy of given her recent behaviour and actions, but she couldn’t refuse the order. Tynan was showing his faith in her and she wouldn’t let him down. It was a chance to prove her strength and her ability as a guard, and she would do her duty and make everyone in her bloodline see that she was one of the best.

There was a knock at the door and the person on the other side opened it without waiting for an invitation from within.

Sophis, Vivek and Tynan saluted.

Deshal, Chosen Son of the Venia bloodline, made a dismissive motion with his gloved hand and stepped into the room.

He ran his steely grey gaze over them all and paused when it reached the body slumped in the chair near Tynan’s desk. His gaze moved on, settling on Tynan.

“We were not expecting you back so soon,” Tynan said with a stiff bow of his head. “I trust your hunt was fruitful?”

Deshal moved forwards, his attention solely on Tynan, and nodded as he tugged his black leather gloves off and then tucked them into the pocket of his fine long black wool coat. “The city is cold as a witch’s tit tonight but I managed to find a pleasant enough girl.”

Sophis’s skin crawled at the perverse smile he flashed at Tynan. Deshal stank of sex. The fact that he fornicated with his prey disgusted her. His grey gaze slid her way, his fair eyebrows briefly knitting, and she schooled her features and swiftly locked her emotions down so he wouldn’t sense them. At over three hundred years old, Deshal could probably see through her façade, but he didn’t call her on it.

He smiled at her, raked his gaze downwards at the same time as preening the tangled waves of his jaw-length blond hair from his face, and then returned his attention to Tynan. Sophis couldn’t understand why so many women in the bloodline desired Deshal. He was handsome but that wasn’t everything. The man had a reputation for keeping human pets, a perversion that Lord Timur indulged rather than eradicated. He had pampered his Chosen Son and Chosen Daughter, giving them free rein to do as they pleased.

That included bringing humans to the mansion.

The high-ranked members