dread. Quite lovely, real y.”
“Come,” Barron said, taking hold of Briony by the waist and lifting her. Couldn’t someone just let her walk for once? “It is much cozier inside.”
He sped to the top of the hil through the main gate and into the castle, not stopping until he had reached a suite of rooms, where he set down Briony on a chaise lounge covered in deep red velvet.
It went with the rest of the room. Everything there was red, or black, or silver, and it seemed no expense had been spared. The reds came in velvet, silk and rubies, the blacks in ebony, onyx and jet, while al the silvers had to be platinum, given the way vampires reacted to the real thing. Put together, it looked either like the most expensively furnished place Briony had ever been in, or like further proof that vampires liked to take decorating tips from old movies.
“Don’t
make
yourself
too
comfortable,
Princess.” Elise sat down besides her, throwing an arm around Briony like they were best friends. “You won’t be here long if Barron has his way, and he usual y gets what he wants.”
“The scepter,” Briony said.
“Oh, so you have been listening,” Elise said drily. “Yes, the scepter. Al supernatural creatures of the dark want it, after al .”
“Why?” Briony asked. “What’s so special about it?”
“Power, obviously.”
“What kind of power?”
Elise laughed. “I could explain it to you, but I suspect it would be too much for your wee human head to take in.”
“Elise,” Barron’s voice shot through from a hal way. Briony hadn’t even noticed him step outside.
“Don’t be patronizing to our guest. She is after al , King Waltham’s daughter.”
He came back into the room with a cut glass goblet in each hand. Elise reached out for one, but Barron ignored her, handing one of the goblets to Briony.
“Here.” His voice was soft. Almost gentle. “You must be thirsty after our little jaunt.”
Elise reached out her hand for the other goblet Barron held, but he kept that for himself, drinking from it in one smooth swal ow. Elise didn’t seem impressed, but Barron kept his eyes on Briony.
“You look like her to say the least.”
“Who?” Briony said, looking into her goblet.
Was it blood?
“Your mother,” Barron said. “And no, it isn’t blood. Those of my kind who make it to Palisor are general y old enough to put such thirsts beyond us.
Blood is just a conduit for other things in any case, and as we age, we no longer need it to act as a medium.”
Briony thought back to Elise asking to drink from her.
“Elise is the youngest of us,” Barron said.
“She found her way into Palisor during the time you would cal your Middle Ages. She does not need blood, but is stil weaning herself off of the memory of it.” Barron smiled again. “And yes, I can read your thoughts. That is one of my gifts.”
Elise stood up, was obviously not happy about the comment. “You could at least have brought one out for me. You know how to torture a girl, don’t you? I smel the Princess, and I’m suddenly back to craving human blood.”
“Then show some wil power, Elise,” Barron said. “You have no need for the blood. How many years have you not had human blood and lived perfectly wel without it?”
“Too many to count,” Elise admitted. “It doesn’t make it easier, though.”
“I have a job for you that wil see you clear of the Princess for a while, then,” Barron said. “Go send a message to King Waltham that we have the Princess, and we wil feed on her if he does not bring the scepter to us.”
“Assuming he even has it,” Elise said. “I searched the castle before throwing the dagger down on the banquet table, and it wasn’t there. Nor was King Waltham. I would have finished him off before he could rejuvenate if he had been.”
“He must have the scepter with him, then,”
Barron said. “And he must not be in the castle.”
“So, how do I send word to him?” Elise asked.
“Do I just run al over the Kingdom looking for him?”
Barron appeared to ignore the sarcasm in the question, reaching out to Briony with a hand, softly touching her hair, feeling its silkiness between his fingers. Briony tried not to react. Not even when he leaned in close to breathe in the scent of her hair. “Ah, human hair,” he touched her cheeks, “human skin…so soft, so warm and alive.”
Elise coughed, and Barron came out of his dreamy