Angelica thought it a great irony that so much beauty had been built on the deaths of tens of thousands of slaves. He has excellent taste, I’ll give him that. But I wouldn’t mind seeing him tortured for a decade, then his head chopped off, for all that he’s done.

Have you been reading my mind?

She heard a faint whimpering sound and glanced to her right. She recognized one of the women from the auction, a tall blond Russian. She had bruises on her arms and legs. She’d been worked over but good, and her new owner had his fangs buried deep in her throat sucking hard—too hard by the looks of it. The slave stared up at the cavern ceiling, tears streaming down her cheeks.

As Angelica walked up the steps, however, she noticed that when some of the guests, especially the men, looked at her, they frowned, then glanced at Reyes.

I think we should have figured out a way to give me those bruises. You’re losing your street cred because I’m still intact.

He glanced at a group of men and nodded to them. I don’t give a f**k what any of them think. I only have to impress Engles—and mend fences with him, if I can. The rest can go to hell.

His words reminded her again just how different Reyes was from the rest of these cretins. She had to work at holding her head down and sustaining her long-suffering expression, because right now she felt nothing but admiration for him.

Do I look submissive enough?

He glanced back at her once more. You’re doing great.

And so are you, master.

Reyes liked Angelica in his head and he was proud of her for bearing up well, but he’d expected nothing less. He knew her history, because he’d had her investigated, that she was the sole support of her infirm mother and had sacrificed a lot to take care of her. She hadn’t had an easy life.

She was a woman of great strength, another reason why he hated that she’d gotten caught in the Starlin trap. And one more reason why he needed to bring this organization down.

As he led her up the broad stone steps to the entrance, Engles stepped out onto the expansive porch. He had his usual Dubonnet in hand, a leer in his eye, and a smile Reyes wanted to wipe from the bastard’s mouth.

“You haven’t chained her yet?” Engles narrowed his eyes as he took another sip. His gaze drifted the full length of Angelica. “She’s not even bruised.”

Reyes took a step closer to her. “Unlike you, I intend to take my time.”

Engles shifted his gaze to stare hard at Reyes. “I’ve always had my doubts about you, pretty boy. And I think you may have just proved my opinion again tonight. And by the way, anyone’s membership can be revoked at my sole discretion.”

Reyes had known men like Engles his entire life. They taunted and bullied at every opportunity, no matter the situation or the person. But he knew something else as well: if he showed the smallest sign of fear, Engles would go after him. Nor could he appease him. Engles would see that as a sign of weakness.

A real rock and a hard place, so he opted for a different tack.

He held Engles’s gaze for a long moment, then wheeled on Angelica, hoping like hell she would follow his lead without flinching. He caught the back of her neck with his hand and telepathed, Drop like I’m hurting you. Whimper, groan, cry, anything you can do.

Aloud, he said, “On your knees, slave.”

She immediately obeyed and gave a decent performance, crying out as she crumpled at his feet.

While keeping one hand on Angelica’s head, he met Engles’s surprised stare. “The thing is, I’ve already laid out a plan for this slave. And if I don’t hold back, she’ll be dead before I’ve even started. I may not have the same punching style as the rest of your bidders, but I like my meat seasoned over a period of time, then chewed slowly in my mouth for about as long. I take no pleasure from a quick slice-and-drain. I want the woman’s pain to serve me for months.” He lowered his voice. “More important, I want to get her to a second auction at the six-month mark. I intend to set a new record and recoup my investment.”

Engles’s eyes widened as his gaze fell to Angelica. He actually seemed impressed as he licked his lips. If Reyes had been at all serious, Engles would no doubt have been the first in line to bid for Angelica at her six-month transition.

Engles tugged at his chin. “All right, then. I look forward to what the future holds.”

“As do I.” He pulled on the leash and Angelica slowly rose to her feet, wiping away tears. He gave her a shove, setting her in motion as together they moved into the foyer.

You okay? Oh, God, had he hurt her?

How’d I do?

So you are okay.

He swore he heard her snort inside his head. Did the bastard buy it?

Yeah, he bought it.

He glanced at her, meeting her gaze for a fleeting moment. You’re doing great.

An odd blush covered her cheeks. He wished like hell circumstances had been different, because he really liked this woman.

But this thought stopped him up short. What circumstances? Angelica was human, and—except for the extremely rare mating between the species, involving love, marriage, and offspring—vampires didn’t date humans.

Beyond that, his background made him about the worst sort of man she should ever get tangled up with.

Moving Angelica into the house proper, he heard her swift intake of breath and watched her eyes skate to the tall ceiling. Massive crystal chandeliers illuminated the space, more for effect than necessity. Vampires could easily see in the dark.

Too bad this was all built on slave blood because it’s a beautiful home.

Yes it is and you’re right, Angelica. This dwelling is a travesty.

As he led her to the top of a large descending staircase, applause began to build through the gathered partygoers below.

Is this because of the auction?

Of course. Again, you’re the star.

I think I’m going to be sick.

Just keep your eyes lowered and stay one step behind me.

No problem.

Reyes knew how to square his shoulders and give a show. His captor, Sweet Dove, had trained him well in a number of different ways, and one of them was the importance of holding an attitude. Most of the women watched him, lusting, as did some of the men.

All around the audience, the slaves were apparent in their usual revealing garb, like Angelica’s, sporting sheer fabrics, chains, and leather. Lots of sequins. A few feathers.

The female slaves, most with na**d br**sts, often had rows of dots tattooed around their ni**les that in turn were stained varying shades of burgundy. Many of the male slaves were also na**d and kept in a state of arousal, usually through a variety of drugs.




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