Sex, Lies, and Vampires

Sebastian was waiting for me in front of the door to the conservation room containing the ivory griffin-headed figure that held Asmodeus in bondage.

"I knew you would come. Saer doubted it, but I knew you would have to come. I am pleased. Adrian's death will be that much sweeter, knowing you will witness it."

I smiled at him. "You know what your problem is?"

The gloating light in his eyes faded a little, a faint frown forming as I continued to smile at him. "My problem, Charmer, is about to be destroyed."

"Wrong," I said softly, making a fist with my ring-bedecked thumb on the outside. Before he could blink, I punched him in the jaw with everything I had. Evidently the ring added a little extra oomph, because Sebastian flew backward two feet and slammed into the door to the storeroom, his head connecting soundly with the solid metal door. For a second his eyes stared at me with utter and complete surprise, then they closed as his body slid down the door with a whump. "Your problem is that you underestimate just how determined a pissed-off Beloved can be."

I stepped over Sebastian's prone body, pushing open the door. "One down, two to go."

This room was about three times as large as the one in the sub-basement that had held Damian, and filled with tall metal shelving units holding a number of packing cases and archival picture boxes. I knew I had the correct room—I could feel Adrian's presence like a warm, comforting blanket.

An incredibly angry warm, comforting blanket.

I don't suppose you'd like to show a morsel of gratitude that I love you so much that I'm willing to die with you rather than spend my life alone ?

There was no answer, although waves of frustration rolled over me. For some reason, he had refused to merge his mind with mine, no doubt part of his form of protection. I walked past several of the shelves, coming into a section of the room that had been cleared of everything but a table covered in a black and purple cloth, a big, ugly, beigeish statue, and two men, one of whom resembled a pincushion.

Saer spun around as I cleared the last of the shelves, surprise evident for a moment in his eyes before a nasty smile curled his lips. He made an elaborate bow, one hand holding a wickedly sharp, long sword.

I ignored him to look at Adrian. He was skewered to the wall by a number of different sizes and types of swords, blood flowing freely down his body to pool around his feet. His eyes were the color of a blue-tinged full moon, but I judged that all in all, he wasn't in too much danger. The fact that Saer hadn't pulled the swords out acted as a deterrent to the bleeding, and although I knew the blood loss was going to leave Adrian weakened and ravenous, he didn't seem wounded to the point of death. "Hey, sweet cheeks. How are you doing? I mean, other than having all those swords in you?"

Adrian glared at me. "Why did you ignore my command to stay away?"

I put my hands on my hips. Two could play at righteous indignation. "Well, for one thing, we had a plan, and that plan did not include you running off to be a sacrifice. For another, I'm not the command-obeying sort of girl, not when the love of my life is intent on throwing away everything we have just because he's so noble he couldn't fart without first asking everyone's permission."

His eyes grew round with outrage, his irises darkening. "I am not that noble! If I farted—which I do not, because I do not ingest food—I would do so at will, without consideration of anyone's feelings. You are the one who is noble. You refuse to admit defeat, and continue trying to save me when you know that nothing can be done."

I looked pointedly at the five swords piercing his torso. "And which one of us has all the swords sticking in his body?"

His scowl was a thing of beauty to behold. "Hasi, I insist that you leave this room at once."

"No."

"You will do as I say!"

"Nope. Not this time."

"Nell, I will not explain it to you again! There is nothing you can do. Leave now!"

I leaned forward and, carefully avoiding the swords, kissed the tip of his nose. "Make me."

"What?" I thought his eyes were going to bug out.

"I said make me. You can't, huh? That's why I'm here, snuggypants. I'm going to help you cream Saer, and then we'll take care of that curse that I see peeking through the blood."

"I am so glad to know I have not been forgotten in this charming domestic scene," Saer said, a dry edge to his voice. He stood behind me, his arms crossed over his chest, the sword held in one hand.

"Oh, sorry, forgot about you for a moment. Torture, Saer? Was that really necessary?" I glanced over my shoulder to glare at him.

"Not in the least." His smile grew as he gestured with the sword toward Adrian. "But it was very enjoyable."