Hupotasso (Vampire Bachelor Games #2)

27

27

I smile as he enters the room with his long, lanky stride and shakes his head at me ruefully where I sit on the carpet playing solitaire.

It’s been months, and I’ve missed him. He’s the closest thing I have to a friend in this strange new world I find myself in.

“Jag.”

“Lady Dragonspur,” he bows.

“Oh, cut it out, I know you’re a Viscount, you don’t need to bow.”

“You’ve been researching me?” He puts on a mock ‘of course you have’ face.

“No,” I snort, “Caroline liked to name-drop and patter on about the royals. You and Wolf just happened to be two of those names. Actually, she never shut up about you — if I didn’t know better, I’d say she had the hots for you or something.”

“Mmm, we’ll get to Caroline,” he shakes his head, “but as to your other assertion, you are the wife of Lord Falcon Dragonspur, Marquess of Badencrost. Therefore, you are a Marchioness, and that makes you higher on the royal ladder than I, and deserving of my bow.”

“And do you bow to Wolf? After all, I’m told he’s a count.”

“Technically yes, he is,” he chuckles, “but have you seen the way he dresses?”

“I can’t blame him for that,” I smirk. “We don’t all get to choose what we wear. It wasn’t long ago that I was smothering you with my ridiculous wedding dress as you contemplated ripping my throat out.”

“There is that.” He laughs, and I join in.

I haven’t laughed, really laughed, in ages, and I like this vampire, so easy in his manners compared to his brooding friend. Still, I can see this is more than just a friendly visit, and we both sober quickly.

“I watched your royal tour,” he says quietly, “you conducted yourself with dignity and grace. You couldn’t be faulted.”

“Until the end,” I murmur.

“Did you kill Caroline, Angie?”

“Yes.”

I cock my head to the side and study him where he stands, no surprise on his face.

“Are you going to suck my blood and end me now? Is that why Falcon sent you? To do his dirty work?”

“No.”

He sighs, and I stand and walk to him, taking his hands in mine and looking earnestly into his eyes.

“I promise you, Jag, I promise you, I never meant to kill her. I thought I was knocking her out long enough to be rescued.”

“Who was going to rescue you?”

“That doesn’t matter,” I murmur, turning from him and moving to sit back down in front of my cards on the carpet.

“The reports suggest you loathed her.”

“Of course,” I shrug, “you knew her. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re not wrong,” he smirks, “but she’s from a powerful, well-connected family. Royal deaths are uncommon, especially when the royal is under the protection of another at the time of the ‘accident.’ This is messy.”

I nod and look down at my cards.

“I need to know who gave you that poison, Angie. I’m trying to help you, but you need to start helping yourself.”

“I know,” I whisper.

I shake my head and sigh heavily. I’ve had time to mull this over, to consider what to do about the decision I’d made that had seen me literally jump from the frying pan into the fire.

“It was The Free Men,” I mutter. “Isabel didn’t die in The Games.”

He nods as though this confirmed something he already knew, but he’d wanted to hear it from my lips.

“I didn’t know that before the family visit,” I hurry on. “I slipped her parents a note because I knew membership of The Free Men was hereditary, and I thought they might be able to rescue me. They sent the vial in some food. I don’t know why, idiocy I guess, but I thought it would just knock Caroline out while they spirited me away somehow.”

“Instead they betrayed you,” he murmurs.

“Yes. I believe they did. Has Falcon hired you to get revenge?”

“Hired? I don’t work for your husband. We’re friends, and I consider everything surrounding The Games a personal challenge right now. As to revenge, The Free Men are well out of my scope. They generally only target The Families and high royals. Someone of my lowly stature flies under the radar. Wolf is a different story; he’ll quite happily hunt them down and suck them all dry. His family’s been plagued by them for centuries. I believe that’s why Falcon invited him to stay. He wants his expertise on the subject.”

“But The Free Men killed Caroline, and she wasn’t a high royal. I mean, I know I technically killed her, but really it was them.”

“Mmmm, I think they just took an opportunity that presented itself.”

“Yes,” I sigh. “I think the same thing. They used me, and I was desperate enough and stupid enough to fall for it. If it’s any consolation, I feel terrible. I mean, contrary to what the public believe from The Games, I’ve never actually killed anyone before.”

I don’t add, ‘except my brother’ because his death weighs heavily on my conscience still. Nothing will take that away. It’s a weight on my soul that I’ve come to wear like a heavy cloak. Caroline’s death is almost like a button in comparison.

But it was still nothing to be proud of.

“I’m shocked I did it, Jag. I’m not a killer, despite what Falcon thinks.”

“I believe that,” he nods.

“But I was deliberately put into The Games,” I add in a whisper, looking back up at him through my lashes.

His face registers total shock.

“Pardon?”