Steel-blue eyes darken with desire, but it’s the spark of determination in them I find most thrilling. “I look forward to our next encounter.” His tone is husky and full of promise.
Standing, I nod my thanks to the bartender. He’ll close out the tab and put it on my account. “Me too.”Sooner than you know.“Have a good evening, Jamison.”
2
JAMISON
Her luscious body brushes mine when she leaves, taking the delectable scent of jasmine and vanilla with her. Initially, the smell made me think she was Elven, but when I probed, I could detect no magic. And while she’s certainly captivating, her bright blue eyes didn’t have the compelling nature of a vampire. Something is off. My brain ticks over the possibilities as I turn to watch her walk away. Graceful. Stunning. Her olive skin and raven hair the perfect foil for her gold dress. She draws every eye in the library as she passes by. Shifter maybe? Or hybrid? The lack of magic and answers is driving me crazy.
After entering her number in my phone, I send her a quick text.
Jamison: Dinner, tomorrow? Nine?
Phaedra: Checking to see if this is my number? *wink emoji* Tomorrow at nine works for me. Text me the address.
Jamison: I’ll pick you up.
Phaedra: I’m staying at The Hari. Will meet you in the lobby. Don’t be late.
A satisfied smile stretches across my face at the tidbit she just dropped. She doesn’t live here. The Hari is an upscale boutique hotel in Knightsbridge, favored by the supernatural and, coincidentally, not far from my condo.
She intrigues me. I thought I knew every member of Hawkes House, especially the women, most of whom would sell their soul to get into my family’s good graces, even if it meant dating me. Phaedra didn’t recognize me at all, and while she could be better at hiding her reaction than most, I doubt it. The tightening around her eyes when she heard my surname tells me she isn’t a fan of my infamous father. Another point in her favor.
With a nod toward Rutherford, the bartender, I head out twenty minutes later, my mind already switching to tonight’s mission. It’s imperative we tag the most powerful pieces of Nolan’s collection and mark them for the council to bid on at the auction. Several of the items are too dangerous for one person to own.
The painting of Dorian Gray, for example. A talented demon became so obsessed with Oscar Wilde’s story, he created his own version of the painting. In exchange for someone’s soul, he paints their likeness into the canvas. The image grows old while the benefactor remains young, until the demon comes to collect his payment.
For centuries, the demon has struck deals with humans, mages, and shifters—the only races not immortal. Humans, withtheir short life spans, rarely turn down the offer, but demons don’t prize those deals quite as high as one struck with a supernatural because our souls contain power.
Mages and shifters have very long lifespans, aging a year for every two to three decades, but compared to the immortality of the other supernatural races, it’s a blip in time, and it makes them greedy for more. Immortality is a powerful lure.
Nolan discovered the painting a few centuries ago, and it’s been a part of his collection ever since. As a vampire, he had no need to make the deal himself, but stated he felt it too dangerous to be loose in the world. Or at least, that’s what he told the council. We suspect he used it to make his own bargains with the demons, but Nolan was always too wily for us to catch him in the act.
I slide into the backseat of the black SUV waiting at the curb.
Vampires are immortal. It takes a lot to kill one. Despite the old wives’ tales, a stake through the heart is not enough. They must be incinerated with fire born of magic. I guess someone finally had enough of Nolan and his reign. They were either extremely powerful or exceedingly clever to have accomplished it. Likely both. Of course, the council assigned a team to investigate his death, but I doubt we’ll keep them on the mission for long.
Tonight is supposed to be a celebration of Nolan and his many accomplishments. One of the first vampires to cross the portal to this world of humans, he was instrumental in establishing a society for his brethren and leading them to a position of power in the supernatural community. Nolan held the vampire seat on the council, but his reign was tyrannical and bloody. Very few will miss him.
There are two reasons the upper echelon will attend tonight’s gala: to view Nolan’s extensive magical collection, and to jockey for votes in a bid for the vampire seat on the council. Everyonewho is anyone will be in attendance. The crème de la crème of supernatural society and, more importantly, members of the supernatural council.
Avoiding the line of vehicles dropping off passengers to the red carpet, I direct my driver to the rear entrance. There’s no need to announce my presence. The de Vere family will be well represented by my father. His assistant always makes sure the press is there to herald his arrival.
As I get out, I toss orders over my shoulder. “Take the rest of the night off. I’ll find another ride home.” When the driver nods, I slide out and stride toward the door.
With a flick of my hand, the cuff of my shirt slides up to reveal my security credentials, a magical tattoo, to the guards. It’s invisible until it’s invoked and can only be seen by other supernaturals. The council has so many teams, we needed a secure way to identify them. Once the team chooses their mark, a spell is used to tattoo it onto the skin. Our team chose the gryphon to represent us.
Upon seeing the mark, the guards snap to attention and open the door.
“The rest of your team is already inside, sir,” says the guard on the right.
“Thank you,” I reply, stepping into the brightly lit hallway, which I follow around to the stairs, then up to the second floor.
Events are held in the massive, round, three-story lobby that greets visitors on arrival. A circular staircase winds up to each floor, providing access to each wing of its treasures. When I slip through the side door, it’s still early and most of the guests have yet to arrive. Catering staff rush to and from the kitchen, setting up the individual stations with food and drink. Museum staff are on the small stage, positioning the podium beside an impressively large painting of Nolan.
The air moves beside me, and my magic instantly flares, settling a second later when it recognizes the vampire standing next to me.
“Status,” I murmur.
