“BLOOD DRIVE AND cocktails in the main ballroom,” Lucinda called out with a box full of needles in hand.
The crowd let out an unexpected cheer.
“Am I missing something?” I asked as Dane offered his arm to escort me into the main house. “Since when is a blood drive cause for celebration?”
“This is Arcanum business,” he said as he led me inside. “The blood drive is mandatory. Twice a year, each member offers six pints of blood. The council invests the money. It’s turned into a lucrative source of income for all of us.”
“So, the council is basically a blood mob for immortals?” I said.
“They do a lot more than that. Whatever problem a member has, whether it’s business or personal, it’s brought to the table to be solved.”
“Solved. Is that what they called ordering the death of my entire bloodline?”
Lucinda glared at me as we passed. “I hope she’s not the one taking the blood.”
“You’d be surprised. She has the lightest touch I’ve ever seen.”
“What’s her deal anyway?”
Dane leaned in. “She kind of came with the house. She’s been here since the 1500s. Coronado arranged for her immortality when he came back from the Americas. I know she’s a little sharp around the edges, but she can be trusted. She helped me with the notebook. She’s the only one who knows about me . . . my shared arrangement with Coronado. They were very close.”
“Wait, do you think she and Coronado . . . ?”
Dane cringed a little.
“Oh God. That explains a lot. I heard he had quite a reputation with the ladies. And I quote, ‘a voracious appetite.’”
I watched a blush creep over his collar. “Yeah. I’ve learned a lot from Coronado’s memories. Some things I will never be able to unsee,” he said with a sheepish grin.
As we approached the main hall, one of the Arcanum guards hurried past with an armful of tubing and blood bags.
He turned his head away as if he were afraid to even gaze upon me. Clearly, my reputation has preceded me. “Good thing I’m not afraid of blood.”
Dane tightened his grip on my arm. “We can’t participate,” he said through his teeth as he smiled at a passing guest.
“Why?”
“Your blood has properties we don’t want anyone to know about. Much too dangerous.”
“How would they know?”
“Everyone will want a taste.”
“What?” I stopped walking. “Why?”
He tenderly arranged my hair around my shoulders. “Immortals like to . . . well, let’s just say it can get pretty freaky in there.”
“Okay. Gross,” I said under my breath as we continued walking. “But won’t we draw suspicion if we don’t show up?”
“No one would dare interfere with lovers who’ve just been reunited after hundreds of years,” he said with a sly smile.
“What did you have in mind?”
Abruptly, he pinned me against the door to his study. I felt a rush of dark energy pulse through my bloodstream.
Pulling my hair back from my throat, he whispered in my ear, “Pretend you want me.”
I laced my hands through his, and the euphoria that came over me was far from pretend. The closeness of his body made me short of breath.
A few people saw us, but I think that was the whole point.
Reaching behind me, he opened the door to his study and then swooped me up in his arms. I giggled into his neck as we stepped inside the darkened room, turning our backs on the world.