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Prologue 11 страница






beat like a trip-hammer.

“I love you, Leila, and nothing else

matters.”

I never knew joy could be a physical

sensation, but I wasn’t imagining the wave

that swept me from head to toe. My throat

contracted, my chest swelled, and my

fingers tingled. Meanwhile, something

long broken in my soul seemed to snap

back in place, and though I didn’t feel it

physically, it was just as real—and

powerful.

“I love you, too, Vlad.”

I would have said more, except his

mouth scorched mine with a kiss so

passionate, I couldn’t breathe. It was hard

to even think beyond a fervent, jumbled

mantra of loveyouneedwantyou!

He lifted his head and, incredibly,

stopped me when I began unbuttoning his

shirt.

“No time for that, ” he muttered.

I was incredulous. “You have more

important things to do? ”

I didn’t. In fact, if my nipples got any

harder, the fabric would split where my

robe rubbed over them.

He looked down as if judging for

himself and a harsh noise escaped him.

“Not more important, but we’re both

going to be very busy until the ceremony

tonight.”

“Ceremony? ” What ceremony?

The smile he flashed me was part

amused and part feral. “Our wedding

ceremony.”

I had a split second when I thought,

This is all a dream. It had to be, because

he did not just say we were getting

married tonight.

“I didn’t agree to that.”

His smile vanished. “You’re saying

no? ”

“No. Er, not no, but not, you know...”

I knew I wasn’t making sense, yet my

mind was whirling with joy, shock, and

disbelief. At the same time, the rational

part of me snapped, Get a grip, Leila!

One more sputter and I’d magically

transform into a nineteenth-century

Southern belle, fanning myself while

gasping, “This is all so sudden! ”

I gave myself a mental shake and tried

again.

“I know my misunderstanding of the

ring thing before led to our breakup, but as

I said then, it wasn’t about angling for a

proposal. It was about you being open to

love—”

He laughed, which stopped me midsentence

because it wasn’t his sensual

chuckle or even his disdainful, I-mockyou-

with-my-superiority laugh. It was

something new, and if I had to label it, I’d

say it had You’re in for it now written all

over it.

“What did you think would happen

when you made me realize I’d fallen in

love with you? I’d want to date more? Get

engaged to be engaged? ”

Another laugh that made gooseflesh

ripple over me despite the heat from his

body. Then his laughter faded away and he

leaned down until his mouth was

millimeters from mine.

“As if I’d settle for anything less than

making you completely mine, as soon as

possible.”

He was so close his features were a

blur, yet his eyes had never gleamed

brighter. I closed mine and it made no

difference. I could still see his through the

shield of my lids.

“I am yours, ” I whispered, and it wasn’t

only a statement. It was a promise.

As I spoke, I rubbed against him,

craving more than his hands on me. For a

blistering few moments, he complied,

kissing me with such intensity that my

knees buckled. When I began unbuttoning

his shirt again, he drew away, his lips

curled into a sensually cruel smile.

“Not unless you marry me.”

My mouth dropped. “You’re using sex

as blackmail? ”

That smile widened. “Whoever told you

I played nice? ”

My lips twitched but this was too

serious to joke about. “I do want to marry

you, Vlad. Tonight is too soon, but—”

“Why? ”

Not a hint of humor colored the

question. Belatedly, I realized he was

serious. With that knowledge, my inner

antebellum Southern belle burst to the

surface.

“Because all of this is so sudden! ”

After an outburst that even Scarlett

O’Hara would scorn, I tried to explain in

a more articulate manner.

“I’d want our wedding to be special. I

don’t have a dress, you don’t have a best

man, and instead of flowers, we have

corpses on poles decorating the front of

the house.”

“Flowers are on the way, as is my best

man, three seamstresses are ready to make

any dress you desire, and I’ll have the

corpses taken down, ” he replied without

missing a beat.

If he had seamstresses standing by plus

flowers and a best man on the way, he

wasn’t just serious about wanting to get

married tonight. He was planning on it.

A colossal tug-of-war began inside me.

I loved Vlad and I wanted to spend the

rest of my life with him; I had no doubts

about that. His arrogance and complexity

would drive me up a wall, plus I’d never

get used to his impalement habit; I had no

doubts about that, either. Would a long

engagement change any of the above? No,

but the saying “Marry in haste, repent at

leisure” was famous for a reason...

“Did I mention I honor the custom of

paying a bride price? ” he asked in a

casual tone, as if his gaze hadn’t narrowed

while listening to my thoughts.

“In case you aren’t familiar, a bride

price is where the groom bestows a gift to

his new wife, ” he went on. “The gift is

supposed to reflect the value a groom

places on his bride. Because of your value

to me, no matter what you asked for, if it

was in my power to grant, it would be

yours.”

I’d stiffened upon first hearing his

description, insulted that Vlad thought he

could overcome my concerns with money.

Then he caressed the words of that last

sentence until they shone as brightly as the

apple the serpent offered Eve. What did

he think I wanted? He loved me—that had

been my biggest wish, and I didn’t

remember singing “Material Girl” around

him lately...

Comprehension dawned. Anything in

his power to grant, no matter what it was.

You MERCILESSLY diabolical man, I

thought, aghast and admiring at the same

time.

“Let me guess—you don’t pay up until I

marry you? ”

A sly smile curled his lips. “Correct.”

“You really don’t play nice when it

comes to something you want, do you? ” I

breathed.

His eyes gleamed. “You have no idea.”

A promise and a threat. That described

my decision now, which held the hope of

incredible bliss as well as the potential

for irreparable heartbreak.

“You told me you wanted to marry me, ”

I said, voice throaty from all my surging

emotions. “You didn’t ask me.”

He probably hadn’t noticed. To him,

there wouldn’t be much difference

between the two, and that exemplified so

many issues in our relationship. See? You

can’t marry him tonight or any other

night, you two will NEVER last! my inner

voice snapped.

Vlad stared at me, copper swallowing

up his gaze until not a trace of emerald

remained. Then, his expression the same

mixture of challenge and invitation, he

slowly knelt before me.

“Leila Dalton, my one true love, will

you do me the honor of becoming my

wife? ”

I might’ve brought Vlad to his knees at

last, but in so many ways, he would never

bend. I knew that as surely as I knew I’d

always love him, and it left me with only

one answer.

“Yes, Vlad, I will marry you. Tonight.”

My hated inner voice had never steered

me right before. I’d be damned if I started

listening to it now.

Chapter 27

I now knew what Vlad had been busy

with yesterday when he hadn’t come to

see me: preparing for a wedding I hadn’t

known about yet. He hadn’t been kidding

about the seamstresses, the flowers, or

anything else. His staff hustled about with

blurring speed, setting up decorations,

making enough food for an army judging

from the chaos near the kitchen, and

putting out so many candles that the nearby

countryside would soon suffer from a wax

shortage. Unlike the frostiness I’d

experienced before, Vlad’s people were

all smiles now, and if one more person

bowed to me, I’d expect a tiara to

magically sprout from my head.

But before picking a dress or any of the

other items on my now-urgent to-do list, I

had to talk to my family. All my family,

even the vampire I shared no biological

ties to.

Vlad sat next to me in the Tapestry

Room. Images of medieval life, battles,

and nature were intricately woven into the

huge wall coverings. The ceiling had

interior boxes carved into designs that

mirrored scenes from the tapestries. The

effect was stunning, but I didn’t think my

father appreciated it at the moment. He

was staring at me with the same horror I’d

seen on people’s faces right before they

were executed.

“You’re marrying him tonight? ”

Gretchen, for once, was more urbane.

“That explains why everyone’s running

around like you set their asses on fire.”

Marty’s face was carefully blank, but

his gaze flicked between me and Vlad in a

way that could hardly be called joyous.

“Why the rush? ” Gretchen asked. Then

she stared at my midsection. “You’re not

pregnant, are you? ”

“Vampires are incapable of

impregnating humans, ” I said.

Relief crossed my father’s face but I

was ambivalent. Even if Vlad was human,

I’d known since my teens that I couldn’t

have children. No baby could survive in

my high-voltage body.

Then my father’s features hardened.

“You can’t expect my blessing on this

disastrous mistake.”

The words were directed at me, but

Vlad responded.

“I wouldn’t insult you by asking. We

both know you disapprove and we both

know that I don’t care. Leila’s opinion is

the only one that matters and she said

yes.”

My father cast a calculated look at the

items on the silver serving tray in front of

him. Vlad flashed him a charming smile.

“You’d never succeed.”

For a second, I didn’t understand. Then

my mouth fell open.

“Dad! You were not thinking of

stabbing my fiancé with a silver knife! ”

Marty leapt over to my father. “Hugh,

you need to settle down, ” he muttered

while shooting wary looks at Vlad. “Let’s

go for a walk, hmm? ”

“That’s not necessary, I won’t kill

him, ” Vlad said in the same tone most

people used to talk about the weather.

“This is too twisted, ” Gretchen

muttered. “I’m about to have Dracula for a

brother-in-law.”

I ignored that, still glaring at my father.

“I didn’t expect you to be happy about

this. I did expect that you wouldn’t get

homicidal. I’ve lived with a vampire for

years, remember? They’re not so different

from us.”

“You think I object because he’s a

vampire? ” my father snapped. “If you

were marrying Marty, I’d give my

blessing because he’s a good man. He”—

a finger stabbed in Vlad’s direction—“is

not.”

I sighed. “You saw the corpses on the

lawn, didn’t you? ”

My father let out a scoff. “As if I

couldn’t tell before that. I told you, Leila,

I can read people, and without a doubt,

Vlad is the most violent person I’ve ever

met.”

“You’re right.”

Vlad hadn’t shifted from his relaxed

position, nor had his genial smile slipped.

He waved a hand at Gretchen and Marty.

“You’re both resigned to this wedding,

so give us the room.”

Gretchen got up, casting a sideways

look at my hand. “Still no diamond ring.

This is what happens when you don’t play

hard to get, sis.”

I rolled my eyes. “If you want to help

me design the dress, meet me in the library

in half an hour.”

Marty gave me a long look. “I hope you

know what you’re doing, kid, ” he said.

Then he followed Gretchen out of the

room.

I glanced back at Vlad, noting that he

and my father were engaged in a staring

contest. Vlad’s eyes were their normal

deep copper color, but even without

vampiric enhancement, Hugh Dalton

didn’t stand a chance.

“Dad, I know you have certain opinions

about Vlad, but once you get to know him,

I’m sure—” I began, only to have Vlad’s

chuckle stop me.

“That won’t help because he’s right. I

am a violent man and I always have been.

Why, when I was half his age and human, I

invited the local nobles to my home for a

feast. While they still had food hanging

from their lips, I slaughtered them all and

counted it an excellent evening.”

“TMI, ” I muttered.

He ignored that, meeting my father’s

harsh blue stare.

“Here’s what you don’t know: I am

never violent without cause. Those nobles

had betrayed my father, resulting in him

being blinded and buried alive. Some of

them had walled him into his grave

themselves, yet they still came to my home

without fear because they underestimated

me. You don’t, which is one of the two

reasons I respect you.”

Then he leaned forward, his smile

fading.

“The other reason is this: loyalty.

You’ve seen the riches I possess and the

power I wield, yet you’ve never thought of

using your daughters to garner those things

for yourself.”

“That’s not loyalty. It’s being a father, ”

my dad gritted.

“My father bartered me and my younger

brother to his worst enemy in exchange for

political security, ” Vlad said flatly. “I’ve

seen far worse in the centuries since.

Fatherhood isn’t why you value your

daughters more than money, power, or

even healing your leg, which I can do. It’s

loyalty, and I expect you honor it more

now because of the loss you suffered

when you betrayed it before.”

I didn’t know which shocked me more

—Vlad saying he could heal my father’s

crippled leg, or him throwing up my dad’s

former adultery. Vlad knew about it

because of the guilt I still carried over my

mother’s death. I’d told her about the

incriminating letters I found in my dad’s

bag because I was angry that she was

moving us away from my trainer to join

my dad in Germany. At thirteen, I cared

more about making the Olympic team than

my mother’s heartache. Her leaving him

put us at my aunt’s, where she died trying

to help me after I touched that downed

power line.

My dad also looked stunned, but then he

rose, jabbing the end of his cane at Vlad.

“How dare you.”

The words trembled with wrath. Vlad

didn’t even blink.

“I dare because I want no

misunderstanding between us. I am

everything you think I am, but I love your

daughter, and what I love, I protect with

all of the violence in me, which, as you’ve

guessed, is considerable.”

Silence fell when Vlad finished

speaking. Even his staff must have paused

in their frenetic preparations because I

could’ve heard a pin drop in the next

room. My dad’s face remained set in hard

lines while I engaged in an inner debate.

He could’ve left out all the people

he’d killed—

Why? A Google search would reveal

the same thing.

Fine, but bringing up Dad’s affair—

He was impolite while making a point?

This is Vlad the Impaler. His points

usually come at the end of a long pole.

Yes, but the two of them are going to

be family—

Did you hear Vlad describe his

family? He didn’t even get to the part

where his younger brother kept trying to

kill him.

And on and on. As I’d feared, I’d

morphed into Gollum.

What I finally said after the seconds

ticked by was this:

“I don’t blame you for being upset,

Dad. If my daughter told me she was

marrying the undead Prince of Darkness,

I’d flip out, too. You don’t have to like it

or approve, but you can’t stop me, and I

hope...” I swallowed to relieve the lump

that suddenly shot into my throat. “I hope

you’ll be at my wedding.”

Then I went over to him and kissed his

cheek before leaving the room. Whatever

my dad, Gretchen, or Marty decided to do,

I had a wedding to get ready for.

Chapter 28

A t some point, I felt sure I’d wake up. I

wasn’t the girl who had an exquisite gown

handmade with fairy godmother–like

quickness for her wedding. I was the girl

who lost her mother before I could really

get to know her. Who had her dreams

crushed, whose family harbored

resentments, who couldn’t touch anyone

without risking their lives, and who

drowned in darkness from all the sins her

abilities forced her to relive.

That didn’t look like the girl in the

mirror. My dress had a creamy bodice

overlapping at the bust to increase my

modest curves. Under that, a multilayered

chiffon skirt was inlaid with lace clusters

and tiny seed pearls. The lace bolero

jacket left my dé colleté bare but hugged

my neck and shoulders before descending

into sleeves as sheer as spiderwebs. They

came to my fingers, embroidery clusters

concealing my long, zigzagging scar. My

hair was up, a diamond-studded clip

underneath the bun. That clip held up the

back of a sheer cathedral veil with more

pearl adornments. The front of the veil

was currently thrown back in case I

needed any final touch-ups on my makeup.

No, the girl in the mirror didn’t look

like she’d suffered from loneliness,

isolation, or an influx of images from the

worst deeds people inflicted upon each

other. She looked happy. One might even

dare to use the word blessed. Was it any

wonder I had a hard time reconciling that

she was me?

Gretchen appeared in the reflection.

“Don’t even think about crying during your

vows. It’ll ruin your makeup.”

My sister’s comment was a dash of

reality in these unreal circumstances, but

that was fine. She was here, dressed in a

strapless amethyst satin gown that showed

off curves I needed creative draping to

duplicate. Her shoulder-length black hair

was up, adding an air of sophistication,

and her dark eye makeup made her appear

older than her twenty-two years.

“You look amazing, ” I told her.

“No, ” she said, her voice becoming

soft. “You do.”

Then she shocked me by hugging me.

Underneath the hairspray and body lotion,

I caught her scent, like lemons and sea

spray. I inhaled, knowing I’d never come

across either of those without thinking of

my sister.

She let me go with a snort. “Did you

just smell me? ”

Sheepish, I nodded. “All the blood

Vlad gave me put more than my hearing

into overdrive.”

Another snort. “You get weirder by the

day, you know that? ” Then she glanced

around, but the three genius seamstresses

had left. “Well, do I smell okay? You

can’t beg, bribe, or steal perfume in this

place.”

A house of people with hyperactive

olfactory senses? I didn’t doubt it.

Perfume would be like mace to vampires.

“You smell fine, ” I assured her.

Taps sounded at the door. Gretchen

opened it, revealing Marty. He wore a

black tuxedo that must have been recently

made because he didn’t own one, and it fit

him like a glove. His bushy sideburns

were now neatly trimmed and his thick

black hair was slicked back, adding a hint

of rakishness to his formal appearance.

“It’s time, ” he said. Then he stared.

“Wow, kid. Both of you, ” he hastily

added.

I turned so Marty could see my entire

dress, careful not to trip on my train. “I

still can’t believe Sinead, Frances, and

Bertrice made this in six hours. Those

vampires sewed so fast, they almost

caught the threads on fire.”

My voice trailed off as someone else

appeared behind Marty. Hugh Dalton also

wore a tuxedo, and his gray-black hair

was freshly cut. The lines in his face

looked sharper, but lips that had been

drawn into a slit softened somewhat as he

looked at me.

“No matter what I think about this,

Leila, you’re my daughter, so you are not

walking down that aisle alone.”

I swallowed hard. Gretchen hissed,

“Eye makeup! ” and elbowed me, but her

eyes had a new shine, too. It had been a

long time since we’d done anything

together as a family.

Marty took Gretchen’s arm. “Come on,

beautiful. I’ll show you where to go.”

She gave her hair a final pat and then

blew me a kiss. “See you soon, sis.”

The two of them left. My father

continued to stare at me. Then he let out a

sigh that seemed to come from deep inside

him.

“You’re sure you want to do this? ”

“I’m sure, ” I said in a steady voice.

He took my arm. My new currentrepelling,

ivory gloves only came to my

wrists so he absorbed a shock, yet he

concealed his wince behind a strained

smile.

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

I barely recognized the third floor. The

normal furnishings were gone and the dark

walls were covered with white silk. More

silk hung from the ceiling, creating an

elegant tenting effect. The hallway had

flowers wrapped around white stone

torches that were spaced with polished

shields between them. Those shields

picked up the firelight and reflected it,

bathing the entire hallway with a golden

glow. The scent to my newly sensitive

nose made the air heavier and sweeter.

Walking through it was like traversing an

enchanted tunnel.

Marty and Gretchen entered the main

doors to the ballroom. My father and I

followed, and when we appeared in the

entryway, organ music swelled, snatching

away my gasp.

It wasn’t the ballroom’s new look that

took my breath away, though the aisle

formed from towering pillars of white

roses and the massive antique chandeliers

ablaze with hundreds of candles had

transformed the room into a gothic

dreamscape. It was all the faces that

turned toward us. There had to be two

thousand people, the sea of black tuxedos

broken occasionally by splashes of color

from women in formal gowns.

Had Vlad invited the entire town? I

wondered in disbelief.

That thought vanished as I caught a

glimpse of the groom. Vlad stood on a

raised white dais, a canopy of

intertwining iron vines rising several feet

above him. He wasn’t wearing a tuxedo.

How like him not to blend in. Instead, his

ebony jacket had thick braiding around the

shoulders, reminding me of what kings

wore in official ceremonies. It buttoned to

his neck, the high collar framing his

strong, chiseled jaw line. His pants were

also black, but the cloak that draped over

his shoulders and pooled at his feet was

scarlet. Its edges were trimmed with

ermine, and a wide gold chain held it

closed, a gold and jet pendant the size of

Vlad’s fist hanging from the center.

In short, he was magnificent.

I walked down the aisle, barely

noticing anyone else. Even the pressure

from my father’s hand faded away. Vlad’s

hair was brushed completely back,

revealing his slight widow’s peak. The

absence of those dark waves made his

lean features, strong brows, and high

cheekbones that much more striking, and

his coppery-colored eyes seemed to

penetrate into my very soul.

Come to me, they silently commanded.

Even if I wanted to refuse, I didn’t think I

could.

I was twenty feet away when fire

snaked up the iron canopy, winding

through all those intricately carved vines.

My father stopped, his grip tightening to

hold me back.

“Leila—”

“It’s all right, ” I said. I’d never fear fire

with Vlad near.

Then I let my arm slip from my father’s

grip, walking those last few feet alone.

The canopy continued to blaze but not a

stray spark dropped to the ground. By the

time I climbed to the top of the dais and

took Vlad’s hand, the iron had lightened

from the intensity of the flames, until it

looked like the metal canopy above us had

turned into molten gold.

To say I’d always remember this

moment would be an understatement.

I was so dazzled it took me a second to

realize the dais had stairs behind it, too. A

gray-haired man in a long white garment

climbed up to us. Then he made the sign of

the cross while intoning something in

Latin. Once he was finished, everyone sat

in near perfect unison. That sort of

coordination told me the majority of our

guests had to be vampires.

I had no idea you had so many friends!

slipped through my mind before I realized

how it sounded.

Vlad’s mouth quirked. Then, the

minister? officiator? began speaking in

English so I finally understood him.

“Dearest friends, ” he said with a heavy

Italian accent. “We are here to witness the

joining of this man and this woman in the

bonds of holy matrimony.”

With my abilities, I’d relived a lot of

weddings. I’d also relived enough

divorces to know the vow we were about

to make had more than a fifty percent

chance of failure, but that didn’t intimidate

me. I’d faced longer odds before, and

Vlad was well worth the fight.

He smiled at that: knowing, challenging,

and oh so sensual.

“No fight, ” he murmured. “We are

forever now. This first ceremony is only

so that you and everyone else know it,

too.”

First ceremony? I wondered, but then

the officiator said, “May we have the

rings? ” and I froze. With all the activity

today, I’d forgotten we didn’t have rings.

Now what?

To my surprise, Gretchen ascended the

dais escorted by Mencheres. The longhaired

Egyptian must be Vlad’s best man.

He handed something to Vlad, and my

sister took my bouquet while pressing

something into my hand.

I looked down, relieved to see twisting

bands of gold forming an unusual-looking

ring. Then curiosity had me glancing at

Vlad’s closed hand. What sort of ring had

he gotten me?

“Put the ring on her hand, ” the officiator

stated. “Will you, Vladislav Basarab, take

this woman, Leila Dalton, to be your wife

...”

The words blurred into white noise

when I saw the wide gold ring Vlad slid

onto my finger, a jeweled dragon

emblazoned on its surface. I didn’t need

Vlad to tell me that this was no replica. I

could feel it throbbing from the essences

of the ancient princes who’d worn it

before me, Vlad included.

He hadn’t given me an ordinary






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