Resigned to waiting for her audience with the prince, Ari kept further questions to herself. They turned down a dark alley into the warehouse district. The big loaders and trucks had been put away, but their presence lingered in the smell of oil and gasoline. It was quiet without the roaring engines. Their steps were the only discernible sounds, except for the occasional call of a night bird and the distant hum of city traffic. They passed four long rows of buildings before Andreas stopped at the side door of a shabby warehouse.
“Once we enter, be careful what you say. Not all vampires will appreciate your candor and…unique sense of humor.” He pulled a small cloth bag from his pocket. “Your bracelet. It would be an insult to wear it. Weapons?”
“None.” After a long debate with herself, she’d left them at the office rather than cause a fuss. Ari dropped her bracelet in without protest. It wasn’t likely her small protection charms would make a difference where she was going. She was placing a lot of trust in Andreas.
He knocked twice. A vampiress opened the door and beckoned them inside. Her fiery-red hair was cut in a short, manly style; she was dressed in what looked like black fatigues. Her stance said ‘don’t mess with me.’
“Andreas,” she said, her voice low and sexy, belying the no-nonsense attire.
“Carmella,” he acknowledged.
The female lieutenant.
“This is the Guardian?” The faint smirk said she wasn’t impressed.
“Get on with it, Carmella,” Andreas said.
“Very well. This way. The prince is waiting in The Blue Room.”
The Blue Room? Was that kind of like The White House?
Carmella opened a door off the hallway, stepping aside so the others could enter first. It was a blue room all right. Dark blue wainscoting and a multi-shade blue carpet contrasted with white walls. There were five large oak chairs upholstered in midnight-blue tapestry. A table at the end was covered with a blue, white-edged cloth, four bottles of wine, and a grouping of glasses. The only occupants were two vampires, one was Lucien. Ari studied the other.
Prince Daron had never been a handsome man; his bone structure was too heavy, his jaw too square. His cropped, black hair was straight and coarse. But the news photos she had seen failed to convey his incredible presence. Ari felt his magical power the moment they entered the room. He made little attempt to lighten its effect. She knew he could have blocked it; Andreas did it all the time—was doing it now.
The vampires’s supreme leader turned to look at Ari. She braced, remembering Sebastian’s invasion. An invisible force flowed over her, probing, as a wild creature might sniff you out. It was impersonal. Not the evil she recognized in Sebastian, yet it was still a predator, looking for an opening, a weak spot. Goosebumps rose on her arms from the energy dancing along her skin. She stayed immobile, kept her eyes averted, and used every witch trick in her arsenal to strengthen her defenses. The magical assault never came. The power level abruptly dropped, and the prince moved toward them.
His movement wasn’t the beautiful glide that Andreas could do but more like the flowing of an unstoppable wave. He came to a halt four or five steps in front of her. “You are part human,” he said.
“Yes.”
“I have not always found humans to be trustworthy.”
And so the head games begin.
“And I don’t trust vampires. We should get along fine.”
Daron gave her a bland look. “Andreas warned me you would speak your mind.”
Nothing she could say to that.
“You are the descendant of the witch Talaitha. But young to have many skills. What abilities do you possess?”
Not a good start as far as Ari was concerned. She resented the implications. Hadn’t she been through this with Andreas? And what was it with the age thing? Not everybody lived forever. This sounded like a freaking job interview. And Ari hadn’t put in an application.
“Sorry, I didn’t bring my resume. Why don’t you just tell me what you want?”
“Arianna,” Andreas cautioned.
Oh, yeah, Ari thought, he warned me vampires don’t dig candor and humor. Guess that includes sarcasm.
“No, let her speak her mind. Are you not afraid of me, Ms. Calin? Most humans are.” His voice held a note of perplexity and possibly warning. He closed to within an arm’s length, and her witch blood reacted with a tingling in her fingers. She felt Andreas stiffen beside her. Prince Daron noticed the tension and stopped. “Andreas?”