Page 75 of Red Masquerade

And he looked so peaceful now, his eyelashes lying across his sharp cheekbones, his dark, reddish-brown hair tousled against his pillow. In the daylight, his skin seemed to glow. His muscles looked sculpted of marble, his whole figure that of Adonis, a dusting of hair reaching from that pleasurable part of him up to his chest. He was hardly covered by the sheet strewn across his thighs.

Looking at him, a part of my heart cracked. He was here.He wasn’t dead. I couldn’t wrap my head around it, still, that the truth I’d accepted years ago wasn’t the truth after all. That he was well, tangible—I could touch him, I could kiss him, again.

And I’d run away from my brother to do it.

I slid off the bed, careful to stay as quiet as I could. Waking him meant confronting last night, confronting what he was—and I wasn’t entirely sure I knew how to feel about it.

Plush carpet dampened the sound of my feet hitting the ground. Two robes had been laid out on the armchairs near an unlit fireplace. Sliding my arms through one, I tied the belt closed, the fabric soft as spider’s silk on my skin, a dark emerald in color. A breakfast had also been laid out, a steaming pot of tea and a plate of fruit. The citrus of Earl Grey permeated the air.

My favorite tea.

But my stomach felt hollow.

Swallowing down my unease, I glanced toward the bed once more. Vince hadn’t moved, his chest rising and falling so imperceptibly, it was like he wasn’t even breathing.

I slipped out of the room before I changed my mind and returned to the warmth of his side. The prospect of returning to that dream world, where there was only pleasure, where I could forget everything but his body and mine, nearly drew me back. I could forget I was technically betrothed. I could pull him to me and insist we never leave.

But I knew where I was, knew what kinds of things went on in this manor, and I needed to know how he played into it.

The hall outside was quiet, vacant, the polished floor icy beneath my bare feet. Looking one way, then the next, I had no idea which way to go, not remembering the path we’d taken last night. So I wandered, taking soft steps, trying to be as quiet as possible. Tried to recall the twists and turns of the night before.

No servants greeted me, no sounds echoing down the halls; not the shutting of a door, the rasp of a broom, the squeak of shoes against the marble. The manor was a true ghost town, as though Vince and I were the only inhabitants. And perhaps we were.

Yet I couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes following me as I walked. Glancing over my shoulder, no one appeared behind me. I half-expected to see the heel of a shoe running around the corner into the next hall. A few portraits hung from gilded frames, every now and then, but none so direct and eerie as to feel like they watched my every movement. Some of the faces were familiar, but vague enough, and without a plaque to announce the identity, they remained unknown visages.

Every door I passed was shut, dark mahogany interspersed amongst white and gold wallpaper. I turned the handle of a few and found most to be locked, some entire hallways hidden away. A few that opened held simply furnished bedrooms, their curtains drawn closed against the late morning sunlight. Though, from the thresholds, I could see the rooms were spotless—beds made, corners tucked tightly, not a speck of dust on the furniture. Like the rooms had been used recently.

I made sure to shut every door behind me. I wasn’t certain if I was allowed to be prying, if I was even allowed down these halls. And I worried every time I opened a door I’d find something I wouldn’t like.

They were all nondescript, empty, unremarkable, and I wondered when I’d find something else. This house couldn’t possibly hold only bedrooms?

Turning one more door handle, expecting nothing, I nearly moved on after a quick glance within, until I realized I’d seen the space before. Seen those drawn curtains, that bed, that plush, deep red rug covering the entirety of the floor. My breath caught, and though the room itself wasn’t much different from the others, I saw the memory of that feeding couple again, in the center ofthe room, arms wrapped around each other as she drank from two pin-prick wounds on his neck. Blood down her chin, the same color as her dress. His sharp grin as they switched roles, as he brought her onto her lap and laved at her throat.

The vampire couple Vince and I had watched that evening had been in this room.

The energy hung in the air, heavy and low like a storm cloud. No blood stains ruined the floor, the furniture. All had been cleaned away. No evidence of the couple that had spent the evening here, save for the static electricity I swore sparked on my fingertips, heady and intoxicating. Residual ecstasy, lingering touches.

I shouldn’t be here.

Stepping out of the room, shaking off the memory, I shut the door behind me, perhaps too harshly. The sound of the door hitting the frame echoed down the hall and I winced. If I wasn’t supposed to be here, I’d just alerted anyone listening as to where I was.

I padded a bit quicker down the hall, putting distance between myself and that room. The feeling of Vince pressing me against the window, kissing me while that couple fed from each other on just the other side of the glass—it awoke something within me, a fear, a fever, a thrill. The want to keep going, to ignore all warning bells.

And after—we’d fallen prey to that passion. Again, last night.

Coming around a corner too quickly, I ran into a hard wall, almost knocking all the air from my lungs. But—no, not a wall.

A shriek stalled in my throat as I lost my footing. Quick hands grabbed me by the shoulders, steadying me on my feet, just as I was about to fall.

“You may not want to run in these halls.”

Sinclair stood before me, those amber irises catching the sunlight in a dangerous glint.

My eyes widened, and I quickly scrambled out of his grip. The last time I saw him, he was covered in blood, showing off those knifelike teeth. “You!”

His brows quirked in amusement. “You,” he echoed, amused, though there was no surprise in the expression.

“What are you doing here?” My feet carried me a few steps backward, my heart picking up speed at the shock of running into a vampire. Alone.