Page 10 of The Shade of Things
“Release Ian,” Eli said imperiously. “I want a word.”
While I scrambled for a plan, Celeste nodded her head at a group who closed in on Damien. Interesting. She was a baby vamp, having been turned relatively recently, and yet she commanded minions and presided over the scene like a monarch. Family connections were a beautiful thing.
Aw, man. Was I going to have to get her on my side? Because that would be a huge pain in the ass. Then I mentally slapped myself. I was surrounded by bloodthirsty vampires and yet working with Celeste was the thing that made it complicated?
Damien’s green eyes turned obsidian, and he twisted Ian’s shirt in his fist. “Tell your little friends to back off.”
“Not until you let go of him,” Celeste fired back. “You don’t treat fine wine like plonk. Besides, I won him.” No belching, no farting, I barely recognized her.
Celeste had a lot of digestive issues for a bloodsucker, and most human blood didn’t agree with her. Ian must have been her pick to replace her last donor, Raj Jalota.
The good news was that the focus was off us. The bad news was Eli stood there with his arms crossed and his chin jutting up, waiting for the altercation to be resolved so he could speak to Ian, completely unconcerned that we were penned in by the undead.
Our child did not get her stubborn genes from me.
“You didn’t win, you backstabbing cunt.” Damien ran his fangs against the inside of Ian’s wrist. Was this the vamp equivalent of pissing dogs? “You’re not getting sweet fuck all, so you can bite me.”
The other vampires let out a round of collective “oohs,” like a bunch of high schoolers waiting to see how the popular kid reacted to this diss.
Celeste tossed her hair off her shoulder and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t dumpster dive to feed.”
Ian cried out, blood streaming from a gash in his forearm where Damien’s nails dug in.
The mood in the room turned. Fresh blood had spilled in a shiver of sharks, their party-going joviality gone. The Ohrist donors, who’d been doing a great job of being unobtrusive, tightened into small groups, and even Rodrigo, a badass but a fellow human, looked uneasy.
I put both fingers in my mouth, getting only air and saliva on them when I blew out. One day, I’d learn how to make that ear-splitting, crowd-quieting noise, but today was not that day. I nudged Eli. “Whistle.”
The piercing sound stopped everyone in their tracks.
Much as I despised vamps keeping blood donors, Celeste was a much better fit for Ian. Poor guy didn’t seem to have many options, and if his sense of safety was tied up in being bound to some vamp, better one who seemed to care about the humans at her disposal. Celeste, to her credit, hadn’t killed her last donor, even when bribed to do exactly that.
I waved. “Hi there. Remember me? The one you can’t touch? I want to talk to Ian.”
Damien licked the blood off Ian’s forearm, regarding me with heavy eyelids. “Lose Zev’s hands-off policy and you can get as cozy with the Sap as you want.”
Celeste pulled a sweaty stick of gum from her underboob, dropped the wrapper on the floor, and shoved the gum in her mouth, watching me thoughtfully. Ah, there was the class act I remembered.
Ian, still in Damien’s grip, stared at the floor. My heart went out to the man.
“Here’s the thing,” I said. “The Lonestars won’t get involved even though you’re being a psychopathic dick to this poor guy.”
Damien flushed angrily, Celeste laughed, and Eli motioned for me to wrap it up. Sure, now he was all about that hand signal.
“If you don’t allow me and my partner to have a brief chat with him, I’ll ask Mr. BatKian to make the request much more slowly and painfully.”
Damien flicked his eyes at the Undertaker, who smiled coldly. Good man.
I snapped my fingers. “Don’t look at him. Look at me.”
Great, Eli’s shoulders shook. I swear, if he blew my masterful performance and got us killed, I’d make his afterlife a living hell.
I moved to block my stupid partner, stepping hard on his foot. “I’m going to count to three and you’re going to hand Ian over.”
“Or what?” Damien said.
“Or I’ll kill you myself.” I looked around the room. “Does anyone have a problem with that?” I mean, he did threaten to rip my head off.
The Undertaker looked bored, which meant he’d filed my threat to the vamp under self-defense—the only leeway I had to kill him.
