A Vampire for Christmas - By Michele Hauf Page 0,34

that they had plans for her to become a changeling. At that time, relationships with humans simply weren’t done. Lucky for Trace here, those rules have loosened considerably.”

WITH A WINE BOTTLE in each hand, Charlotte returned to the main floor and headed into the kitchen. The catering staff had needed more white wine, and given that Marcel was already frazzled, she’d offered to run down to the cellar. Once there, she’d eyed the storage room door at the end of the long hallway. Not allowing herself to dwell on what she must’ve seen last year, she quickly grabbed the bottles and headed back upstairs.

After dropping them off in the kitchen, she headed to the ballroom to look for Vik. The quartet was playing a melodic tango and a few people were dancing, but she didn’t see the woman anywhere. Maybe she was in the—

A hand came around her waist, and she bristled. She knew instantly it wasn’t Trace.

“Looking for a dance partner?” With his dark hair lightly slicked back and those perfectly white teeth, Sebastian was seductively charming. Like a cobra. Before she could answer or protest, he swept her onto the dance floor.

Since Sebastian and his girlfriend had been here, she hadn’t seen them at all. Thank God the mansion was huge. They took all their meals in their quarters in the guest wing. It was as if they were living in a hotel. She’d wondered if Trace had talked to him, told him to stay away.

He held her much too close now, his hand spanning her rib cage. It dawned on her that he could probably feel the boning of her corset, which was disconcerting. That should be a secret for Trace only.

“So it seems the two of you have reached some sort of agreement with this tenuous relationship of yours.”

“I wouldn’t call it tenuous.”

He twirled her around then pulled her close again, his mouth against her ear. All she could think about were his fangs, hidden now, but inches from her jugular. A barely there memory hung just out of reach.

“Then what would you call a relationship between a vampire and a human?” His voice was saccharine smooth.

“We are simply a man and a woman. In love.”

He laughed softly and a forgotten dream tugged at her thoughts. Faint recollections and hardly perceptible sensations. Dreadful sensations.

Drops of something dark on a white dress. Blood? The curve of a woman’s neck and shoulders. Lifeless eyes. Razor-sharp fangs.

Oh, God, the woman from last year. Panic knotted around her gut as the images became less murky. He hadn’t just fed from her, as Trace had thought. He’d killed her. That was what Charlotte had seen.

She tried to pull away from Sebastian, but he held her tightly against him. Although the room was stifling hot, her fingers and toes went numb.

“Ah, and you are so naive. Like most humans. Trace is a man—yes—but with very inhuman needs.”

With a sudden detached curiosity, she looked at her hand in his, aware of a strange prickly feeling moving down her arm. Out of her body and into his.

“Those inhuman needs might one day become too powerful to control. And if anything were to happen to you, he’d be the first to be blamed. Charlotte, did you know that most murders are perpetrated by a loved one? That is why they are called crimes of passion.”

His voice was soft. Lulling.

“And with the Council rules being what they are, his seat would revert back to me and my family.”

She held back a yawn. Her eyelids felt heavy. So tired.

She needed to tell…to tell…someone about something.

Trouble was, she couldn’t quite remember who or what.

CHAPTER TEN

THE DRUMBEAT INSIDE Trace’s head became almost unbearable. He really should stay and listen to these Council members discuss policies and politics, but he just couldn’t take it any longer. The walls felt as if they were closing in on him.

“Excuse me, gentlemen. I should circulate, make sure my other guests are comfortable.” He quickly exited the room.

The last time he’d felt this way was when Charlotte had been in danger outside that club. Where the hell was she?

He strode through the main rooms, looking for the tell-tale silver sparkle of that dress. Groups of people were laughing and eating, but no Charlotte. A few guests tried to strike up a conversation with him, but he didn’t pay any attention. A quick check of the kitchen showed she wasn’t there, either.

He sprinted through the gallery and into the ballroom. The string quartet was playing

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