Throne of the Fallen

CAMILLA REALLY OUGHT to stop searching every shadow in the vampire castle for Envy.

Blade was correct about one thing: the demon prince wasn’t coming to save her.

Maybe she’d gotten it wrong, and the Fear Collector hadn’t somehow implanted the name in her mind. Or maybe the next clue had brought the demon elsewhere.

Envy had his game, and Camilla had hers now. She vowed to pour her energy into plotting her own escape and would not think of the prince again.

They had no true future. Engaging in a dark flirtation was not the same as falling in love.

Camilla wouldn’t confuse any game with reality.

With each step she took deeper into the vampire court, she released herself from thoughts of Envy, or anyone else, for that matter. Camilla was her own hero and would plot her way out of this.

She and Blade strolled along a darkened corridor, the floors the same gleaming black as the throne room, the walls papered in a deep burgundy brocade.

Tapestries hung every few feet, giving the corridor a bit of texture and color. Even being in the heart of enemy territory, she couldn’t help but admire the art they passed, until she saw the scenes that had been captured.

Bloodbaths, literally. Every which way a vampire might dine on a human, shape-shifter, or Fae was immortalized in the morbid art.

Camilla’s heart pounded a wild beat.

Blade slowly glanced in her direction, his attention fixed on the pulse point in her neck.

Another couple emerged from the opposite end of the corridor, making her heart race faster.

Blade had her up against the wall, his body blocking the other vampire’s, his eyes burning crimson. He brought his lethal mouth to her ear.

She snapped, bucking against him.

He clamped down on her, using his weight to pin her.

“Calm the fuck down now.”

Tension coiled inside her, ready to lash out.

Blade shook her until her teeth rattled.

“I’m trying.” She focused on her breathing. In, then out.

“Try harder.” He gripped her waist painfully. “Your pulse is like a beacon. You’ll attract every forsaken vampire on this isle if you don’t relax.”

Steps approached them, louder, closer, driving Camilla’s heart rate up.

Blade cursed, his hand shooting down her leg to the exposed skin. His icy fingers shocked her into stillness.

“Pretend, lamb. Pretend you’re enthralled. Or this will turn ugly.”

Camilla froze, her body tense, as the sound of the other couple drew nearer.

Blade’s cold fingers traveled higher, then pinched her, drawing her attention to his cruel face. Anger replaced her fear. Which, from his slight look of relief, was exactly what the vampire had been trying to do.

“Prick,” she murmured, earning a wider grin.

His icy fingers only roamed higher, drawing her ire.

There was no passion in his crimson gaze, only a warning.

His hand traveled up until he grabbed her bottom, the move meant to indicate possession.

“She smells divine.” The female’s voice was throaty, sensual. “Share her or take her to a private chamber, Blade.”

Camilla dared a glance over Blade’s shoulder, and any residual fear melted away at once. She wasn’t looking at the female, she was staring at the male beside her.

The human.

“Lord Vexley?”

He gave her a haughty look.

“Miss Antonius.”

He acted as if they were at another boring party in Waverly Green, not thrust deep into the bowels of the vampire court.

“What are you doing here?”

“Don’t be so surprised by my otherworldly connections, darling,” he sneered. “Did you think I only held power in Waverly Green?”

Camilla didn’t think he held much power there, either, except, of course, through blackmailing her.

The female vampire stroked his chest, purring as he puffed it up more. The fool was going to entice her to bite him right then and there.

Vexley looked Camilla over disdainfully, his cool blue gaze raking over every inch of skin he could see past Blade. His attention fell to the slit of her gown, narrowing on where Blade’s hand moved beneath the silk.

Camilla gritted her teeth, hoping she hid her snarl. The damned vampire was stroking her bottom, his smirk daring her to ruin their show.

“When you tire of the vampire,” Vexley said at last, “come find me. There’s a chance I may forgive your transgressions. Especially now that you’re so… uninhibited.”

Camilla was going to murder him. She tried to shove her way around Blade, but he was as immovable as a mountain range.

Blade jerked his head in a quick approximation of a no.

Camilla glared at him, wondering when they’d formed this uneasy alliance.

“Let’s join them for dinner, my love.” The female vampire’s hands were now caressing Vexley in places Camilla never wished to witness. “It promises to be fun.”

Vexley grabbed a fistful of her silky black hair, guiding her to her knees.

“Convince me, lover.”

Blade shoved off the wall and escorted Camilla quickly toward the dining chamber, leaving Vexley and his vampire to their games.

Once they rounded the corner, Camilla paused.

“Is she going to kill him?”

Blade shook his head.

“He’s been granted asylum.”

“Why?”

“When the Unseelie King submits a request, it’s wise to accept it. Even Zarus recognizes that.”

Camilla’s blood chilled.

“Vexley is playing the game.”

“Appears so.”

“Do you know what’s at stake?”

Blade slanted a look her way.

“Don’t know, don’t care to know. It’s nothing good if the Unseelie are involved.”

Blade stopped outside a wide set of double doors, carved with more scenes of death. They were an off-white like bones bleached in the sun. Camilla realized with a start that they were bones bleached by the sun. Human bones. Hundreds of them.

Looking at them closely, she saw places where they’d been gnawed, the teeth marks unmistakably created by fangs.

She stepped back, a surge of fear urging her to run the other way.

“Don’t run.”

Blade’s tone implied he’d chase her and that would be ill-advised. He was a predator first, the need to hunt in his blood.

His large hand gripped her arm, a cold manacle tethering her to his side.

“Try not to speak to Zarus or draw his attention. We’ll sit as far away as is acceptable. At the first opportunity, we’ll leave.” He looked her over, his expression harsh. “If you cannot control yourself, I will bite you. Understand?”

Camilla inhaled deeply, then nodded. If she lost control around the vampire prince again, she wanted Blade to bite her. Hopefully it would bring her body back under her control.

With his free hand, Blade pushed the doors open, revealing a dining room that was more bordello than banquet hall.

Sultry immediately sprang to mind. The chamber was a study of deep, rich colors, the favored ones being deep purple and black. Dark, decadent, and tempting; the sort of room that invited you to come in, lie back, and indulge each of your senses.

Floor-to-ceiling windows opened onto a wide terrace overlooking the sea, the warm, salty breeze snaking lazily through the chamber.

A long dining table was divided by a deep plum runner straight down its center.

Glasses filled with various dark purple and red liquids—wine and blood and God only knew what else—were placed at each setting, while trays of purple fruit sat untouched in the center. Plums and grapes and figs and fruits she had no names for glistened in the soft candlelight.

Several alcoves were fitted with sheer panels that fluttered with each sea breeze, showing off private areas stacked with pillows where vampires lounged.

Some talked, some made love, others sipped from chalices filled with what could only be blood. The moment Camilla’s gaze landed on the prince a wave of panic rolled through her; thankfully he was otherwise preoccupied and hadn’t noticed her.

Blade tugged her toward the end of the table and slammed a glass down in front of her.

“Drink.” Blade blocked her view of the prince. “Now.”

“Wine is the last thing I need,” she whispered. “Are you mad?”

“If your bodily senses are dulled slightly, you might not succumb to royal appeal so easily if he touches you.”

That logic made little sense. When the doors opened behind them, bringing two more blue-eyed royals into the chamber, along with a new wave of fear that rivaled the one caused by the prince, Camilla downed her glass. Blade had been correct; it somehow eased the power of their magic.

He poured another.

“Sip this only when necessary.”

Camilla settled into her seat more comfortably, then slowly took in the room.

Murmured voices carried toward them, low and soothing. If it hadn’t been for the occasional biting, it would have seemed like a quiet, intimate affair among close friends.

Perhaps a little too intimate. Skin slapping against damp skin, softened by dewy perspiration, added a sensual applause much too close by. Camilla certainly was not in Waverly Green anymore. She didn’t look even when the heavy breathing turned to soft moans of rapture.

Blade slung an arm around her chair, his head canted toward her. To anyone observing them, he would seem interested. Possessive. Like she belonged to him.

He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger, almost absently, but she knew Blade didn’t do anything without reason.

Camilla hid her cringe when a group of humans was brought in, dressed even more scantily than she was. They paired off with vampires immediately, and Camilla could sense the new couples drawing the approval of the room.

As the first bites took place, Camilla watched the bliss unfold. The human woman nearest to her was already climbing onto the table and lying back, her legs spreading wide in invitation. Two female vampires moved to stand near her feet, each caressing a different leg, drawing her skirts high, then leaning in to suckle the artery in each of her upper thighs. After they’d sipped her blood, they began licking at the woman’s sex.

The mortal arched up from the table, her fingers trailing down her breasts, dislodging the flimsy fabric of her dress. Her hands traveled down, across her stomach, then slipped into her own folds while the vampires began lathing her breasts.

A male vampire strolled over to join their little group, standing across the table by the mortal’s head. When she noticed him, she cried out, begging for him to let her taste him. The vampires around the table called out in approval. One of the vampires replaced the human’s fingers, pumping her own in and out as the woman moaned.

The vampire at last released his cock, then granted the woman’s wish, pulling her toward him until her head hung off the table, allowing her to take him fully down her throat. The two other vampires continued pleasuring her—one stroking her sex, the other tending to her breasts while the male thrust into her mouth.

It couldn’t be comfortable, Camilla thought, having the blood rush to her head, allowing the male to guide himself even deeper.

Still, he took the human’s wrist, fangs at last penetrating her flesh, and groaned with pleasure as he drank.

Camilla couldn’t look away.

The passion, the desire, it flowed as freely as the blood they sipped, and no one batted an eye. The vampires sitting nearest them turned back to their conversations.

It was as if an orgy weren’t happening while they mingled with old friends.

Camilla couldn’t imagine Waverly Green’s nobility witnessing such an act and remaining as cool and calm, they’d all been scandalized by the kissing at Envy’s masquerade ball. She laughed softly at the absurdity of her thoughts. Camilla had been just as shocked that night.

“Dinner and a show,” Blade said, startling her. He, at least, understood this wasn’t par for the course. At least not in Camilla’s world.

Soon the whole quartet was moaning, pleasure rippling through them as the first waves of their orgasms hit.

Envy’s taunt came back to her. You’d come as you died and beg for more with your last breath.

“My brethren have unique tastes.” Blade leaned in, his voice dark with amusement. “But I’ve never understood the appeal of playing with one’s food.”

A shock of blond hair skirting the perimeter caught her attention.

Vexley and a new vampire had arrived. This female wore something much bolder than the last—leather that hugged her curves, showing off flawless skin and a pair of batlike wings Camilla hadn’t noticed on anyone else. She had a whiplike tail she was using to swat at Vexley, which he didn’t appear to mind in the slightest.

They went straight to one of the private alcoves, her long wavy hair flowing behind her.

“Do you have wings?” she asked Blade.

He leaned in, breath cool enough to make her shiver as it whispered across the shell of her ear.

“Nyghtshade is a succubus.”

Camilla’s attention shifted back to Vexley. Of course he’d get tangled up with a demon who lived for pleasure almost as much as he did.

Perhaps they’d have long-tailed demon children and live happily ever after in hell.

One could only hope.

“Zarus won’t allow anyone to harm him until the game ends. But he’d better be gone before then. Asylum only lasts so long. Like I said, I don’t play with my food, but others obviously enjoy it.”

Camilla was relieved that Vex the Hex wouldn’t become someone’s dinner this evening. If he was stupid enough to outstay his welcome and bed every vampire and demon that caught his attention, then he deserved whatever fate he was dealt.

“I need to speak with him again.”

Blade pressed his lips together, his attention sliding toward the end of the table where the prince now stood, his face buried in the neck of a handsome human. The mortal dropped his trousers and stroked himself as the prince fed, a beatific expression on his face.

If Camilla wasn’t careful, that could be her.

“Make it quick.”

Blade pulled her chair out, escorting her around the far edge of the chamber, keeping as much distance between her and the royals as possible.

He flicked the sheer curtains back, then followed her inside. Two large velvet pillows were unoccupied, so Camilla sat on one and Blade took the other, his knee brushing against hers.

The slit on her gown parted, baring her almost entirely. There were no undergarments in her suite, not even daring lingerie. Years of human modesty kicked in and she gripped the two sides of her skirt, attempting to cover herself, to no avail.

Blade dropped his tailcoat in her lap, his look cautioning her not to comment.

Vexley lay back, one arm bent under his head, the other fondling the succubus kissing her way up his neck. He watched Camilla get situated, eyes slitted as he slipped a hand down the front of his lover’s pants.

“Crawling back so soon, darling?”

“I know you’re playing Lennox’s game.”

Camilla had been wondering what Vexley’s clues might have been and had a sinking suspicion she knew exactly what he’d needed to find.

“What was your first clue?”

Still fully clothed, the succubus climbed on top of him, grinding against his arousal to reclaim his attention. Wonderful. They were going to fornicate right there.

“Vexley,” Camilla hissed.

He paid her no mind. The succubus pulled his erection out, her gaze hungry.

Vexley grabbed Nyghtshade’s bottom, squeezing and kneading, his focus entirely diverted. He slapped her leather-clad rump with a flat palm, lips quirked on one side.

“Take these off, love. Then hop up and ride me backward.”

“Vexley,” Camilla said more loudly. “Stop.”

Nyghtshade’s clothing vanished from one blink to the next, her tail whipping back and forth like a cobra being charmed from its basket. She flipped around, then sank onto Vexley’s less-than-impressive erection, giving him an unobstructed view of her bottom and that tail as she began bouncing up and down along his length.

Camilla was completely taken off guard at the sight, but Vexley wasn’t at all concerned. As if it were commonplace to take someone with a forked tail to bed. In front of an audience.

He grabbed the tail, winding it around his fist like rope. Or a length of hair. Then thrust up, fucking the succubus with vigor.

May the gods be merciful and burn the image from my mind, Camilla silently begged.

Unsurprisingly, no divine interference arrived, wiping that hellish scene from her memory. Camilla wished to be anywhere but sitting there. And Blade looked like he felt the same. His lip curled back as he shook his head.

“Vexley,” Camilla gritted out. “What was the first clue you needed to solve?”

He rolled his eyes.

“I had to get the key.”

Time seemed to freeze. And if it hadn’t been for that horrid wet noise and Vexley’s grunts, Camilla would have thought time had frozen.

“My key?” she asked, her voice rising.

Vexley gave her an annoyed look.

“Honestly, Camilla. Let it go. It’s just a key.”

My father’s portal key.

Just as she’d suspected. She moved without thought, knocking the succubus off the lord, her hands fitted around his throat.

“How could you! We had a deal.”

Camilla wasn’t that strong, but she was furious and had taken the lord by surprise.

Vexley thrashed, bucking wildly, but she held on, intent on murdering the idiot. If he’d given the key to a Fae, there was little hope of her ever retrieving it.

“Where is it?” she demanded, hands digging into his flesh. “Do you still have it?”

“No,” he spit out. “I gave it to a contact in the dark market for my next clue.”

Vexley went to hit her, but Blade’s hand clamped around his fist.

“Do not put your hands on her, mortal.”

Vexley glowered but dropped his hands. “Get her the bloody hell off me, then.”

Blade hauled Camilla to her feet.

But Camilla knew exactly where the key would have ended up. In the game master’s wretched claws. She went to dive for Vexley again.

“Stop,” Blade growled low in her ear. “You’re drawing—”

“Tsk, tsk. You know the rules, Blade. Dinner is a time for fucking, not fighting.”

The voice was temptation, desire, seduction, and death knitted together.

And it was entirely too close.

Lips brushed against Camilla’s neck, a cool balm against the warm room. Her body wanted to lean into it, while her mind screamed to run.

“It’s under control, Your Highness. The female was jealous. An emotion to be expected considering who she was with earlier.”

Blade’s tone was almost as hard as the grip he had on her arm. He was subtly trying to pull her farther away from the prince.

“We were just leaving.”

“Actually,” the seductive voice murmured, “there is a matter you need to see to. Now.”

Blade’s grip tightened, the pain a lifeline Camilla clung to.

“I’ll see her to her—”

“She stays.”

Zarus’s command brooked no argument.

And suddenly Blade was leaving her here, with him. Death.

Camilla watched as Blade inclined his head, then left without a backward glance. He’d warned her he’d toss her to the wolves if it meant saving himself.

Her throat tightened as she glanced around, searching for a glass of wine to help dull the vampire prince’s appeal.

Cool fingers wrapped around her wrist, drawing her nearer. Her body instantly forgot why it wanted to dull his appeal, why it would ever wish not to fully experience this feeling.

Beyond passion, beyond lust, there was no name to give the sensations his touch alone provoked. If he should kiss or bite her… Camilla felt boneless as she sank against a hard chest. Cold and smooth like marble. And just as still. No heartbeat thudded. Nothing but venom flowed through his veins.

A chair appeared, or perhaps it was a throne.

One moment Camilla was on her feet, the next she was perched on the vampire prince’s knee. A mere brush of his fingertips had rendered her body under his full control.

In the distance the slow pounding of a drum began, the tempo akin to his missing heartbeat. She looked blankly out at the chamber, her senses addled the longer she remained in the vampire’s arms. Whatever had seduced her clearly impacted everyone else, too.

Everywhere she turned, couples gave in to their desires. Males pleasured males, females pleasured each other, and mixed groups kissed and bit and sucked whoever caught their fancy.

Humans slashed their own flesh, allowing multiple vampires to lick and caress them.

Never killing, only tasting, pleasuring.

Blood lust took on a whole new meaning in the vampire court.

Camilla didn’t realize that the prince’s lips hovered along her throat until he pulled her closer, his hands skimming her shoulders, brushing her hair aside.

She struggled to remember why she needed to be alert. A game, a clue…

Camilla vaguely remembered what Blade had said about not appearing seduced by the prince’s touch alone. She tried to remain alert, to tense.

To behave as if she were fearful and not yearning.

His breath was on her neck, his tongue so close to her skin. Envy had said a mere lick could cause her to come. She fought as hard as she could with her mind, trying to twitch even one finger, blink one eye. Anything to prove she was stronger than this.

Zarus’s fingers angled her chin, tilting until her neck begged to be suckled.

A shiver finally shot down her spine. In pleasure, not fear. But she hoped the vampire prince couldn’t tell the difference.

She mentally cried out for a miracle, for anything.

His mouth came down on her, fangs scraping along her skin, sending cold fire as he punctured—

But then he was gone, crashing backward against his throne.

Camilla went toppling from his lap, their connection and his control vanishing. Her screams finally broke free from her throat.

And she fell directly into the Prince of Envy’s waiting arms.