Dark Possession - Aja James Page 0,29
relationship with the Dark King were to be publicized.
“We are engaged in a Blood Contract for the next three months,” she informed her rapt audience with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “Totally harmless. Nothing remarkable.”
Utter silence greeted her words.
Several pairs of unblinking eyes stared at her.
Finally, Devlin murmured, “I beg to differ, Pure One.”
“Your presence and reason for being here are quite remarkable indeed.”
“Pure Ones are looked upon by other Kinds as the weakest, most subservient of races, despite our Immortality and Gifts. Because we prefer peace over bloodshed, they think us cowardly. Because of our Cardinal Rule, they think us sexless. Because our nature is to see the best in others, they think us naïve. They do not understand. Our strength comes from our Pure souls and the depth of our convictions. It takes strength to stand firm in the face of aggression and not hit back. It takes strength to love truly, fiercely and enduringly. And only the strongest amongst us can find the light within when the world shows us only darkness… ”
—From the Zodiac Scrolls
Chapter Six
“It’s time to go, Keeper.”
Eveline came awake with a start and a soft snort, cut short in the middle of a snore.
“Wh-what?”
Devlin stood beside her looking down. A corner of his sensuous lips twitched as if he was fighting a smile.
Oh. She’d fallen asleep over a pile of scrolls and books again. She’d completely lost track of time.
Eveline pulled her creaky body into a sitting position, working the kinks out of her neck, shoulders and arms as she slowly straightened.
“Where are we going?” she asked sleepily, stifling a yawn behind her hand.
“To the throne room,” Devlin answered, all traces of the smile removed from his expression.
“The Dark King is holding court.”
Eveline frowned a little.
“Then why…”
“And you are the guest of honor.”
Oh.
Guess it was time to showcase their “relationship” to the masses, Eveline deduced.
She cleared her throat and steeled her spine, getting to her feet.
“Lead the way, Hunter,” she said, using Devlin’s formal title among the Chosen.
As she followed him out of the library, she noticed that he was wearing a more formal attire, a tailored, sleek, head-to-toe black ensemble that included a torso-hugging shirt and leather pants.
Damn, but vampires had style, Eveline appreciated rather objectively. The way one would appreciate inanimate art.
Well, the art of Devlin was currently moving in long, smooth strides down the winding corridor that led to the throne room, but you know what she meant.
Surreptitiously, she turned her head to sniff her left armpit. No pungent odors wafted back at her. She didn’t know how long she’d been passed out in the library or how long she’d spent there in total, but it had likely been a long time. Her clothes were wrinkled and sticking to her body in places. (At that thought, she adjusted her skirt and smoothed her hands down her blouse.) She was afraid to check her hair, no doubt a tangle of knots around her head.
In other words, stylish and sleek, Eveline was definitely not.
But oh well. She was merely a Blood Contract.
She pulled back her shoulders and raised her chin.
Her appearance shouldn’t matter. She shouldn’t care. Caring meant that she felt pride, and wanted to show pride, in being someone else’s possession, even if it was temporary.
And she definitely didn’t feel that way.
As they drew closer to the throne room, which Eveline had never entered before, though she knew its location, and that Ramses’ private chambers were behind it, having dashed out of said chamber late last night, she realized that they were approaching from the formal entrance.
When they were in front of the tall, double doors, two Sentries pulled the heavy oak apart to admit them.
“After you, Pure One,” the Hunter murmured.
Head held high, Eveline walked sedately into the throne room. In her peripheral vision, she took in the breathtaking view.
The Cove was based in the no-public-access Chrysler Crown in the heart of New York City. Jade Cicada had combined three floors into one so that a magnificently opulent, gigantic Great Hall rose thirty feet from the floor to meet at the intricately decorated point of a vaulted dome, surrounded on all sides by floor to ceiling triangular windows, alternating with ribbed and riveted stainless-steel cladding, radiating outwards in the world-famous sunburst pattern.
Within this unique architectural space, every piece of décor was meticulously selected to emphasize the gorgeous bones of the building itself. It was brightly lit with chandeliers and sconces, though the black-out windows prevented others from looking in,