Masquerade (Vampires Realm Romance Series Book 10) (15 page)

The Tenebrae’s expression had turned sombre again when Vivek looked back at him but the dark edge to his eyes lightened as Lady Prophecy rose to her toes, pressed her hand to his broad chest, and licked the cuts on his cheek. The entire crowd paused to stare, stunned into silence by the flagrant disrespect for their laws.

If the Law Keepers had already arrived, Vivek was sure they would have done something about it. They tolerated Lady Prophecy and Lord Valentine because they were mated, but until now the relationship the Caelestis female shared with Lord Venturi had only been speculation.

She held both men under her spell.

Vivek couldn’t see why. She was pretty, but there were women in the world more beautiful than she was. His eyes roamed to the ceiling and his senses reached out, searching for the one he would say was the most beautiful.

Was she still dressing? His gaze dropped to the occupants of the ballroom. Or was she already here, hidden by the combined scents of so many vampires? He wanted to see her arrive, felt sure he would know her when he saw her, and couldn’t wait to get his first glimpse of her in a dress.

Would it be as elegant and fine as the one Lady Prophecy wore?

The redhead had returned to Lord Valentine now, and Lord Venturi had joined them. They were deep in conversation again, and several more vampires had formed a close-knit group with them. Vivek couldn’t tell how old they were but most of them felt older than he was.

Lady Prophecy looked over her shoulder at Lord Valentine and the tall dark haired man’s lips twitched into what could be considered a smile by some, his green eyes narrowing behind his devilish black mask, and then moved a step closer to her. She returned the smile, her red lips curving wide with it, when he placed his hand on her shoulder and then touched her cheek and lovingly caressed it. Warmth lit her dark eyes and the Aurorea’s too. Were they speaking to each other in the privacy of their minds, using the link of their mating?

Whatever the man said, it eased the tension that she had been radiating since the arrival of the Tenebrae and she brightened again, and then smiled to herself as though something had amused her.

Vivek clutched the handle of his sword when a wave of power swept across the room, so strong that it pressed down on him and he had to battle to remain standing. Someone had arrived. Someone so old and powerful that most of the attendees were exhibiting signs of strain.

He forced his head around towards the open double doors and saw the reason behind the sudden increase in the sense of power in the room.

A black haired golden-skinned man with bright purple eyes strolled into the room, his jet black outfit tailored beautifully to his frame and embellished with fine crimson embroidered flourishes around the stand-up collar, buttons, pockets, cuffs and hem. He walked with his back straight, head held high, and many of the vampires he passed bowed or curtseyed, gaining amused smiles from the man and a dismissive wave of his hand.

No mask hid his face.

Vivek supposed there was no need. A mask couldn’t hide who this man was.

Lord Hyperion Validus.

Three thousand years old and ruler of the most powerful bloodline in Europe.

Many would see Lord Hyperion as their king. A man not to meddle with and to take deadly seriously. He knew how to use his power, had threatened wars more than once to get what he wanted, and he was the reason there were free werewolves roaming the grounds of the mansion tonight. Where this man led, all would eventually follow. The Tenebrae, Vehemens and Venia’s fight against his desire that all vampires employed werewolves rather than kept them in compounds was futile. They couldn’t hold out against him. It was only a matter of time before they did as he ordered.

Lord Hyperion wasn’t alone. A beautiful raven haired masked woman walked behind him, her glossy curls bouncing with each step, and her dress different to all the other women’s. Rather than a bell shaped skirt supported by hoops, she wore a beautiful strapless corset with a skirt that flowed from it in layers of sheer black, clinging to her legs as she walked and trailing behind her. It lent her a feminine and mysterious air that worked a powerful spell on many of the male attendees, but all remained at a distance due to one fact. She was clutching the hand of the man beside her.

He was taller than Lord Hyperion and the woman by a few inches, of slender build, and wore a black mask without horns that seemed to melt into his brown hair. His attire matched that of the woman on his arm and his lord, fine black with crimson accents. No sword hung at his waist though. Lord Hyperion wore a beautiful katana, an unusual choice when all others were carrying rapiers, with black and red carvings on the sheath. The three other males in the Validus party carried rapiers, and judging by their dragon-like black masks and the plainness of their outfits, they were guards. Watchmen of the Validus. All were armed except the woman and the man at her side. Was he a pacifist, or did he have a special power that meant he didn’t need a weapon to protect himself and his woman?

The group reached Lady Prophecy’s one and many onlookers went back to the business of socialising with their own groups. Vivek continued to watch Lord Hyperion. He spoke to the Caelestis, Aurorea and Tenebrae leaders, and then looked to the raven haired woman tucked behind him. A flicker of nerves crossed her pale face and she looked as though she was going to turn to her partner or move to hide behind him instead, but then Lord Hyperion placed his hand on her elbow and she moved forwards. Was he presenting her to the lords and lady? Who was she?

Hyperion’s group seemed small but a cursory glance around the room revealed that he had brought more than just three Watchmen with him. There were another seven posted at strategic points around the room. If Hyperion intended to start something at the ball, there wasn’t much chance his family would be able to put a stop to it. Ten Watchmen led by Hyperion was enough to take on the other ninety attendees, and if he wasn’t alone and the Aurorea, Caelestis and Tenebrae bloodlines joined him, and the werewolves patrolling the grounds too, the Venia and other families wouldn’t stand a chance.

Vivek growled under his breath. It was foolish of him to consider such a thing but he couldn’t help it when faced with such dire odds. The dossier hadn’t mentioned that so many Watchmen would attend the ball with the lord of Validus.

The murmuring of the crowd grew louder as the orchestra near the entrance began their first piece and Vivek took to scouting the room, using his senses to pinpoint the most powerful vampires. Many of the vampires were displaying their bloodline, their eyes transformed behind their masks, irises unnatural gemlike colours as they spoke to one another. It surprised him that any were revealing their lineage. He had thought all would want to conceal such a thing so they could fully embrace the meaning of the masquerade, transcending their bloodlines to become one with the other attendees and enjoy a night of freedom.

He spotted several Caelestis vampires with their emerald eyes speaking to Aurorea vampires whose own eyes were lapis blue, and a small group of Tenebrae vampires gathered in one corner, their obsidian irises reflecting the darkness within their hearts as they scanned the crowd. Closer to the door were two Venia ladies, their ice-blue eyes shining as they spoke to a trio of males, none of which were revealing their bloodline. There was a notable lack of Vehemens and Nocens. Either they were yet to arrive, or none of the vampires from those families were showing their colours of crimson and amber.

Every Validus in the room had their eyes transformed, the unusual rich purple of their irises standing out amongst the more normal colours of their brethren. Many in the bloodlines believed that the Validus had purple eyes because they were royalty, the true leaders of their kind. If strength were a deciding factor, then the Validus could be considered their rulers. The Caelestis had strength because of their lady, but she was one woman. He doubted even she could compare to the power of the Validus if they worked together. No one could because no other bloodline lived the way they did.

The Validus had no high-ranking vampires besides the lord, Hyperion, and his Chosen Son and Chosen Daughter. Every other vampire in the bloodline, with the exception of the Law Keeper, was a member of the Watchmen, Hyperion’s private army, and was obedient to him. Their loyalty ran deep, so fierce that they even sought their lord’s permission when it came to turning someone into a vampire. The Watchmen didn’t make a single move without his consent and never challenged his decisions, even if it meant losing someone they loved and a chance at eternal happiness. Because of their dedication to their master, there wasn’t another bloodline in Europe that could contend with Hyperion’s might.

It didn’t surprise him then that the Validus vampires topped the list he made in his mind. The only one in the group who didn’t feel old and strong was the male in attendance with the female.

Lady Prophecy of the Caelestis bloodline didn’t feel powerful in the way an old vampire did either, but then the sense of danger rolling off her was due to her magic. Lord Venturi Tenebrae was close to one thousand years old, if not past it, so his strength didn’t surprise Vivek either, and it wasn’t wise to underestimate Lord Valentine Aurorea. Although he was only one third of Venturi’s age, he was skilled at hunting and fighting, and was a mated male. They were savage and unpredictable, little more than vicious beasts if they felt their female was in danger and in need of protection.

Vivek marked off the others lingering at the periphery of their group as not dangerous. They were all weaker vampires, possibly young Chosen Sons and Daughters, and aides. If they had brought guards with them, they had already concealed themselves in the crowd. Something told Vivek they wouldn’t be the ones he had seen showing their colours.

The Nocens bloodline arrived, led by Lady Rosea. It was her eyes and her air that gave her away. She confidently walked forwards with her group trailing behind her, the skirt of her elegant black gown swaying back and forth with each step. Something glinted amongst the folds of fabric close to her hip and Vivek frowned. A dagger. It seemed even the ladies preferred to arm themselves at a centenary celebration. She bowed her head in acknowledgement of Lord Hyperion, the silken straight lengths of her dark brown hair falling forwards to mask her youthful face. Lord Hyperion said something and she tipped her chin up again, opening her eyes. They were as golden-brown as they had been in her picture, close to a hawk’s eyes in colour. The black slim mask that concealed the area around her eyes only brightened them. She joined Lord Hyperion and the other lords and lady, and the rest of her group dispersed into the growing crowd.

The orchestra played the first notes of a waltz. Silence fell across the attendees as the dance floor cleared and Lord Timur, Deshal and Lorna entered. His lord and their bloodline’s Chosen Son had both chosen to wear black with rich blue embroidery and bright silver buttons, and both carried black and silver rapiers at their sides. The clothing suited the lithe figure of Deshal but looked too tight across Timur’s round stomach. Many in his bloodline saw Timur’s figure as the epitome of overindulgence. Their lord fed when he pleased and always from plump females rich with thick blood. Deshal had apparently tried to change his sire’s ways, but nothing so far had had an effect on Timur’s appetite.

Lord Timur preened his sandy locks back, smiled warmly from behind his black horned mask, and waved towards the crowd and then the dance floor, silently intimating for the dancing to begin. Lorna trailed behind the two men as they crossed the parquet to Lord Hyperion’s group and her long deep blue satin gown looked unspectacular compared with the lush plum of Lady Prophecy’s when she eventually stopped at Lord Timur’s side.

Had she even bothered to wear her finest gown? Vivek recalled that she had been wearing a similar midnight blue dress when he had returned from the city with the dead vampire hunter.

He dropped his gaze and frowned at the polished wooden floor, his senses extending downwards. Would the elite guard come for him should the hunter awaken? He wanted to question the man himself but was sure that Tynan wouldn’t allow it and that the guard would report to him. It wasn’t Vivek’s place. Even an elite guard wouldn’t be privy to the interrogation that would take place as soon as the hunter turned. Commander Tynan would deal with it himself.

Vivek scoured the ballroom for Tynan but couldn’t spot him. He frowned over the heads of the crowd and the dancers beyond when he saw the group of vampires in the corner beside the orchestra, close to the entrance.

Law Keepers.

They were all unmasked and wearing the same clothing. He recognised the one who represented the Venia bloodline. Marise. She looked beautiful in her best dress uniform, her chestnut hair tied into a chignon and the polished silver buttons and the silver detailing on the black jacket shining brightly under the candlelight. She stood to one side with a man with long black hair. Vivek couldn’t make out his face but he suspected that it was her lover, Jascha. When he spotted the masked man approaching them, the fine pale blue embroidery on his jacket almost white under the light, Vivek knew he had guessed right. Jascha was Tynan’s younger brother by birth and as a vampire. Tynan’s turning had taken place a year before Jascha’s. The two greeted each other with a hug, and Marise smiled as she spoke to Tynan.

Vivek moved forwards through the crowd and around under the balcony opposite the main entrance. He listened to conversations as he passed couples and groups, searching for anything alarming. Most of it was talk of clothes and politics, and how many times they intended to dance tonight. He smiled to himself and moved on until he reached the end of the room nearest the orchestra and the stairs that led up to the balcony. He would scout up there later although he was sure all he would find were couples seeking refuge from the crowd below.

Could he take Sophis up there?

He held onto the nearest column with his left hand and tiptoed so he could see over the people gathered in front of him. His hazel gaze scanned the dancing couples as they spun in time with the violins and then the onlookers. He couldn’t see Sophis anywhere.