A Bloody Good Secret (Secret McQueen #2)

Between us and the staircase a slender girl sat in a high-backed armchair. She had her legs crossed at the knee, and her fingers were tented in front of her smirking lips. Her hair was white blonde and cut short in an asymmetrical pixie style that complemented her angular facial features. She reminded me of Sig, if he were a waifish, arresting girl.

She wore a simple black minidress, which accented the ten miles of leg she was showing off. Her sky-high purple pumps made me both jealous of her and self-conscious of my own height and footwear.

The gatekeeper couldn’t have been more than sixteen when she died, but she wore her power like a tailored suit. She didn’t give off a vibe of old age some vamps did, but she felt important to me, and I knew I should give her my respect, if not for my sake, then for Nolan’s.

I relaxed my grip on the boy’s arm and skated my hands over his too-tight shirt, my fingernails dragging over his chest. Then, catching a fistful of the T-shirt material, I yanked him towards me. I couldn’t tell him what I was doing, so I hoped he’d be smart enough to play along. We moved to stand in front of the girl, and the tremor of Nolan’s throbbing heart pulsed against my chest.

The girl hadn’t moved an inch, not to take a breath or bat an eyelash. She was sizing us both up, and the twist of a smile on her lips didn’t falter for a moment. When she began to speak, I knew immediately the power of this girl was not to be trifled with.

“You’ve brought a beautiful toy to us, assassin.” Her voice was a honey-smooth drawl, and judging by the tension that eased out of Nolan, she was one of the few vampires in the world who could enthrall with voice alone.

My lip curled. Of course she would know who I was. My own heartbeat was the one thing I couldn’t hide, and this girl was smart enough to put the pieces together. But it didn’t hinder my plan.

“If you know me, then you also know I am a warden now,” I replied.

She crossed, then uncrossed her legs elegantly, but her gaze never left my face. The smile remained, but there was a coolness in her expression.

“Yes, I suppose you are.” Her accent was Southern, but not the same way Grandmere’s was. I would stake money on Georgia for this one. The ladylike poise, tweaked for modernity, was another hint at a belle’s upbringing. So was the forced politeness.

Maybe it was the voice, but in spite of her obvious disdain for me, I sort of found myself liking her. Tough nuts are endearing to me.

“Very well, warden. What can Havana offer you tonight?” Her head tilted to the side, big green eyes boring into me. “You look a little…hungry.”

I’d never heard the word sound so erotic before. Feeding was a high for most vampires, but I’d never experienced it that way, at least not until my dream with Holden. I had fed to kill, fed to eat and fed to live, but never fed for lust. The way the gatekeeper said it made it sound like there was no other way.

My hand tightened on Nolan’s shirt. “This one is mine.”

She frowned a little. “There is much to see and try here. Are you certain you don’t want to share?”

“He is mine,” I repeated.

“Greedy.” But there was a twitch of amusement. “You really are Sig’s.”

This startled me, but I said nothing about it. “May we pass?”

“Is someone stopping you?” She and I watched each other warily for a moment, and then Nolan and I skirted around her and towards the staircase, followed by her last words, “Have fun, warden. Play nice.”

When we were almost at the bottom of the iron staircase, Nolan had his first meltdown. I was impressed he’d held it until then, so I let him have it.

“Whatswrongwithyoureyes? Whatsawarden? Whydidsheletyouin? And what the fuck do you mean, I’m yours?” He had the common sense not to raise his voice above a tense whisper.

I grabbed him by the chin, and we stopped our descent.

“What I’m about to tell you does not leave this building, do you understand?” His eyes grew wide with fear, but he nodded. “I don’t just work for Keats. I report directly to the vampire council.”

His pulse quickened even as color began to drain from his face. He tried to pull away, but I was stronger. That seemed to scare him as much, if not more, than my proclamation.

“I am still the same vampire-slaying, demon-hunting girl you had so much respect for back at the bar. I’m just not a vigilante.”

“But you’re one of ’em,” he choked out.

“I will never be one of them. That much you can be certain of.” There was a hint of regret in my voice, but I doubted he would be able to contextualize it. I dropped my hand away from his face. “I told them you’re mine because under council law it means no other vampire can touch you. It means you’re protected.”

“Is it permanent?”

I wasn’t expecting that, as far as questions went. “Unless another vampire petitions me for you, you will always be mine. At least in the eyes of the council.” Honesty. It felt nice to not lie to him.

He nodded tightly and began to descend on his own. “I guess if I have to belong to someone, it may as well be a tight little blonde.”

At the bottom of the stairs we passed through a heavy curtain and into the darkened grand ballroom. The ceiling swelled thirty feet up, with old tin-roof tiles polished to reflect the candle-lit sconces, which were the only light in the room. Red beads were draped on the walls and over other objects, giving the illusion of bejeweled blood splashes.

Individual chambers lined the walls, each three steps off the main floor, with curtains to give privacy to those who dwelled within. Somewhere inside one of those booths was someone with the answers I needed.

“Stay close, and for the love of God, whatever happens, just go with it.” I placed a hand on the back of his neck, which looked quite peculiar given how much taller he was, but I needed to show everyone he belonged to me.

There were about thirty vampires in the room, and perhaps forty humans. It was impossible to tell if the breathers were daytime servants or enthralled evening snacks. Telling the vampires from the humans was easy enough, though.

What surprised me was that the girl behind the bar was not among the former.

I steered Nolan up to the long black bar that had all the fixings of a normal, human bar, but would be serving something a little bloodier as well. The girl turned her attention to us. She appeared to be a few years older than me, but if I was guessing her age from her eyes, I’d say she was decades older than her body claimed. Her skin was a flawless brown color, like rich chocolate. Her hair was cut short, but instead of making her look boyish, it showed off her incredible face. She had big round eyes with sleepy lids, and a full mouth that wasn’t smiling.

She looked at my hand on Nolan’s neck, then ignored him and focused on me. This girl understood the system. Nolan was chattel and I was the master.

“What can I get you?” she asked. Her nod was curt, and she stared right in between my eyes like Nolan had when we’d first met. Smart, this one.

“AB.”

“Pos or Neg?”

Nolan choked back a noise that might have screwed us totally. Instead it sounded like a burp.

“Surprise me.”

“And for your pet?” She inspected Nolan admiringly, then turned back to me. He was easy on the eyes.

“I—” he began, before I squeezed his neck and he quieted.

“He’ll have a Coke. And can I leave him here for a second?”

She glanced at him again as she filled a martini glass with a dark red liquid and handed it to me. I couldn’t tell where she’d poured it from, but when I felt that it was warm, I decided I was better off not knowing. She cracked open a can of Coke and placed it on the bar, along with a glass of ice and a cocktail napkin.

“He gonna be trouble?” Her head tipped to the side, and she stared at him like he couldn’t hear her. I had to wonder what kind of a state people were usually in when they came here.

I sipped the blood out of the martini glass and waited for Nolan to look at me. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity until he nodded and sat on the stool nearest to us.

“No,” he told her. “No trouble.”

The bartender seemed surprised to hear him speak but left it alone.

“I’m looking for someone,” I confided to the girl.

“What kind of someone?” She leaned her hip against the prep counter behind the bar and crossed her arms over her chest. She had a lot of spirit for a human working in a vampire bar.

“Someone who knows things.” This was where my plan got a little hazy. I hadn’t expected to get so far without resorting to bloodshed. Since I wasn’t sure who I was here for or what I needed to ask them, I didn’t know how to be more specific.

But vampires love their vagaries, and the bartender was no stranger to this. Speaking to some vampires was like playing a frustrating version of charades, and this girl played the game like a pro. She pointed to a lone booth at the end of the room whose curtains were drawn.

I thanked her, placed a twenty on the bar and rubbed Nolan’s shoulder as I passed. “I’m coming back,” I promised.

I hoped I wasn’t lying to him.

Chapter Twenty

There was no way to knock and no guard to announce me, so I cleared my throat loudly as I parted the curtains and stepped into the booth. I was so taken aback by what I saw I almost tripped and fell backwards down the steps.

A spectacular-looking redhead, her hair straight instead of the halo of curls I remembered it being last, was nestled up to an equally striking brunette. The picture they painted was so intimate it made me blush.

“G-Genevieve?” I stammered.

The redhead opened her big violet eyes and grinned at me a little lasciviously. “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” she purred.

Genevieve Renard was the absolute last person I would have expected to find in the booth. She was a were-ocelot. Their queen, in fact, and no one would doubt her royal claim if they looked at her. Genevieve was just about the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.