Red-Headed Stepchild (Sabina Kane #1)

Red-Headed Stepchild (Sabina Kane #1) Page 4

“Who’s the mage?”

We both turned to look where the mage was sitting, but to my surprise, he was gone. Poof.

“That’s weird. He was just there,” I said.

Ivan shook his head. “Freakin’ mancies. They give me the willies.”

“Do you know who he was?” I asked.

“Nah. But he was asking questions before you got here.”

“What kind of questions?” I didn’t know why I was so intrigued about some random mage, but something about him set off my warning sensors.

Ivan looked at me and said, “About you.”

Well, if that wasn’t the perfect end to a perfectly craptacular evening. Why in the hell would a mage be stalking me?

3

A guard holding a large semiautomatic rifle greeted me at the front door.

“Follow me.” He had to turn sideways to get through the doorframe as he led me inside the Dominae compound. His hair was coppery red, indicating that, like me, he was less than a century old.

He lumbered up one wing of the double staircase. My boots scuffed the limestone steps, the sound unnaturally loud in the cavernous room. When we reached the top, he motioned me to follow him to the right, down a long carpeted corridor. At various intervals, we passed guards standing still as statues next to priceless artwork set in niches along the blood-red walls.

Finally, we reached the doors to the antechamber. A handful of other vamps littered the room. Most of them were young strawberry blonds; only a few had darker shades. These were hangers-on, hoping to curry favor. A pair of older vampires, members of the Undercouncil, stood in the corner whispering to each other.

As usual, all conversation ceased when I walked in.

More art hung here—landscapes mostly, depicting Tuscan hillsides. Flowing crimson sheers hung over arched windows, which reached from floor to ceiling. Beyond the panes lay the well-lit grounds of the estate. Past that, the ocean sparkled in the moonlight.

At the back of the room stood two doors, each emblazoned with a bronze relief. The left panel showed Lilith seducing Cain, which resulted in the creation of the vampire race. The right depicted her coronation as the Queen of Irkalla following her marriage to Asmodeus. On either side of these, torches sat in brackets, illuminating the raised images.

The sound of static from a walkie-talkie broke the silence. One of the guards spoke into it in low tones.

“Sabina Kane,” he announced finally.

In unison, the guards each grabbed a handle, sweeping the large panels open with a flourish. I could feel the stares of the others as I moved. The words “killer” and “mixed-blood” were muttered in hushed tones. Once I passed the portal, the doors closed, locking out their judgment.

I had an impression of candlelight in my peripheral vision, but my eyes were focused on the middle of the room. Softly lit by recessed lights, the Dominae sat behind a long wooden table in the center of the chamber.

Lavinia, with her dark carmine hair, sat at the center with one female to either side. Her position as Alpha among the three was secured by her age. Some vampires, the bold ones, joked that she pre-dated the discovery of fire. In reality, no one really knew for sure when she was born. Hell, she was my grandmother and even I didn’t know how old she was. I guess, like everyone else, I was too afraid to ask.

“Sabina,” she said as I approached. Her voice was a seduction, husky and infused with quiet authority. “Welcome, child.”

Kneeling before them, I kept my eyes lowered and touched my forehead with my right hand—a sign of respect.

“Protectors of all Lilim, the blessings of the Great Mother upon each of you.”

“And to you, child,” Lavinia said. “You may rise.”

I stood and cleared my throat, which suddenly felt dry despite the quick feeding on the way here. Lavinia clapped her milky white hands once, bringing my gaze back to her. The sound of shuffling feet came from my right. A pale, slender male came forward bearing a tray. He opened a bottle of wine and poured a burgundy liquid into four stemmed glasses before handing them out.

I lifted the cool glass to my lips. The smell of oaky wine and metallic blood tickled my nose. The first sip exploded onto my taste buds like a liquid orgasm.

“Wow,” I said, momentarily forgetting my esteemed audience.

“You like it?” Persephone said with an indulgent smile.

“Yes, Domina.” I took another lingering sip. “Where did you find this?”

Her low chuckle sounded like dark chocolate. “It’s ours. Tanith invested in a small winery upstate a few years ago,” Persephone said, gesturing to the third Domina. “What you’re drinking is from our first successful crop. It took us a while to find the perfect blend of grape varietals and blood type.”

“I’d say you’ve succeeded.” I drained my glass. A slight tingle reverberated through me. “It’s some of the best blood-wine I’ve ever tasted.”

“I think it will be quite popular among the elite Lilim classes,” said Tanith. She was the second in command and handled most of the Dominae’s business interests. She was also the least attractive of the Dominae, with her large Roman nose and kinky auburn hair. “Of course, we’ll also be selling regular wine to the mortals in order to raise funds for our various interests.”

I nodded, not really caring about anything besides getting a second glass. Tanith nodded to the servant, who promptly gave me a refill.

“Now,” said Lavinia, leaning back, “you may tell us about your mission.”

It looked like cocktail hour was over.

“The target was neutralized,” I said.

“Were there any complications?” As usual, Lavinia’s blue eyes watched me closely for signs of weakness.

Normally, I wouldn’t have mentioned the fight leading up to David’s death, but I knew any prevarication on my part would be detected immediately.

“The subject put up a struggle, but was ultimately unsuccessful.”

The three nodded their approval in unison.

“You called him ‘the subject,’ ” said Persephone, the youngest of the three. “Why do you not say David’s name?”

“Forgive me, Domina, but it is standard protocol when discussing missions.”

“Yet David has been your friend for many years, correct?” she continued. “Thus this was not a standard mission.”

“A mission is a mission,” I replied. Why were they making me talk about this? It was bad enough they asked me to do it. They had a whole stable of assassins who could have handled it. I longed to ask why they chose me, but no one questioned the Dominae.

“You did not have any qualms about killing your friend?” Lavinia asked finally.

“No,” I said, looking straight into her eyes. “He ceased being my friend when he decided to become a traitor.”

I took the last swig of wine and handed the glass to the hovering servant. Why was she pressing the issue? Admitting that I had any reservations about taking out a friend wasn’t an option. Missions were never personal—Lavinia herself had taught me that.

The three seemed to exchange some unspoken communication I couldn’t begin to decipher. Then Lavinia leaned forward. “We are pleased with your success in this matter.”

Warmth that had nothing to do with the blood-wine spread through my midsection. “Thank you, Domina.”

“However, it has come to our attention that in addition to the authorized killing last evening, there was another, unauthorized one at the bar called Sepulcher.”

The warmth turned to chill as I took in the expression on her face. It was the same one she always got just before she reminded me of my many and varied shortcomings. I’d seen that look more times than I could count, and each time I felt shame for not being able to overcome the flaws I’d inherited from my mage father.

My first instinct was to lower my eyes and apologize. But, frankly, I felt ambushed. Here I thought I was summoned to receive praise for carrying out their orders, when in fact I was really being called to the carpet for defending myself.

“Well, Sabina? Is this true? Did you kill a Lilim without permission?”

My neck was tight as I nodded. “It’s true I didn’t have permission. However, your own laws make it clear that self-defense falls under justifiable homicide.”

“Do not quote our own laws back to us, girl,” Lavinia’s voice cut through the air like a slap. I cringed, knowing I’d overstepped the line.

“I apologize.”

Lavinia took a deep breath and motioned for the servant to hand her the pipe connected to an unseen hookah at her feet. She lifted it to her lips and inhaled a deep drag of red smoke. The sickly sweet aroma drifted to me.

Tanith jumped in, reading from a sheaf of papers on the table. “The accounts show one Billy Dan Calebow—brother of Zeke—threatened you more than once. However, our source also states you were heard taunting the victim prior to his attack.”

Lavinia, whose eyes now looked glassy under the overhead lights, slammed her hand on the table. “Dammit, Sabina, you should know better.”

“So I was just supposed to let him kill me?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Curb your tongue.”

My jaw clenched and I crossed my arms, my posture saying what my mouth couldn’t.

“Sabina, you are one of our best assassins. But you can’t go around killing everyone who threatens you. We expect you to be able to subdue those who threaten you without deadly force.” Persephone’s voice was soft, as she tried to play mediator. I heard her but my eyes were locked with my grandmother’s. “You have to understand, the Lilim community trusts us to use your skills to dispense justice to those who break the laws. If they have to worry about you losing your temper and taking it out on the public, it will undermine our authority.”

“This is especially true for you, Sabina,” said Tanith. “Given the circumstances of your birth, many of our followers already worry you’re a loose cannon. You have to be above reproach.”