The cool night breeze blew my hair around my face, the stars sparkled down in a flawless
midnight blue swathe of silk. I looked down at my dress. It was an ivory white shade, very
elaborate satin and brocade. It left my shoulders bare, and quite a bit of décolletage in view of
the world. White gloves climbed my arms to above the elbow. This was a dream, marked with
the initials JC. “Jean-Claude!” I called out into the night.

The dream transformed into an estate, I was standing on a balcony. “I am here, ma petite,”
called a voice behind me. I turned around, to see Jean-Claude in his full glory. Dressed in all
black, he was my opposite. A lacy black silk shirt tucked into tight pants, which tucked into knee
high boots. A frock coat went over, embroidered with silver on the cuffs and hems. He wore one
of those black floppy hats, a black ostrich plume the coup de grace. He held out his arms,
knowing I wanted to be held. “We are on my plane as we speak, ma petite, on our way to
France.”

“You know, I would have much rathered going to France under better circumstances than
this,” I joked, burying my face in the smooth silk at his chest.

“I could not agree more, ma petite. There is so much I could show you. But, I am afraid
that will be impossible, circumstances as they are.” He kissed the top of my head.

“I love you Anita. Even if Amador does somehow succeed in his advances, know my heart
will still belong to you.”

“You say that as if it might really happen, Jean-Claude, and that scares me.”

“I fear he could have very well had you, on the floor of the plane, if I had not been there to
interfere.”

This made me squeeze Jean-Claude even tighter. “I’m going to kill him, first chance I get,
and this will all be over.”

“I doubt things will be so simple, ma petite, but you of course are welcome to try.”

“So you’re on the plane. Who’s with you?”

“Some other vampires and werewolves, that you do not know. Except for Robert.”

“So you didn’t bring Willie?”

“Non, ma petite. Willie is not a fighter.”

“Robert doesn’t exactly strike me as a fighter either.”

“You would be surprised.”

I nodded, letting it go. Reaching up, I took hold of Jean-Claude’s hat, removing it from his
head so I could see his face. He smiled gently. “You are beautiful, ma petite. I have wanted to
see you in something like this for a very long time.”

“Thank you. And as if you didn’t already know, you look gorgeous, as always.”

Jean-Claude laughed. “Well, I must keep up a pattern of consistency. Thank you, ma
petite.”

I nodded, and Jean-Claude smiled, taking my hand. He led me towards the glass doors.
“Where are you leading me?”

“I will show you.”

Jean-Claude led me through the doors by the hand, into a ballroom. Gilded gold and
detailed paintings of cherubs detailed the ceiling. Soft music began to play, violins, accompanied
by some cello. I didn’t see anyone playing instruments, though. “What gives, Jean-Claude?”

Jean-Claude drew me close with a hand on the waist. “A dance, ma petite?”

“You know I don’t dance. I don’t even know how, Jean-Claude.”

“I think you would be surprised by what you know, through the marks, Anita.”

“Jean-Claude…”

“Please, ma petite?” He pursed his lip in a pout. Jean-Claude was begging. This keeps
getting better and better.

I placed my hand in his, the one that wasn’t on my waist. “Alright.”

Jean-Claude chuckled. “But you have to let me lead, ma petite.”

I nodded, and we began. Surprisingly, I actually seemed to know what I was doing. Or
rather, my feet did. Jean-Claude twirled us in a wide circle, lifting me off of the floor with a smile
wide enough to flash fangs. We danced around the floor, until the music faded. Jean-Claude
brushed his lips on mine. “It was not that bad, was it, ma petite?”

I smiled, running my gloved fingers through Jean-Claude’s hair. “The corsets are hard to
breath around.”

Jean-Claude chuckled, a low sound that tugged on things low in my gut. He kissed me
deeply, stealing my breath. With hands on my now hourglass waist, he pulled me to closer to him.
Drawing back, he whispered above my lips, “Then we shall just have to remove them.”

Jean-Claude’s POV

“Then we shall just have to remove them.” I leaned in to press my lips to Anita’s.

“Jean-Claude!” The dream shattered, tearing me away from ma petite. I woke up from my
trance, once again seeing the cabin of my plane. A tanned arm waved before my face.
“Jean-Claude? Are you alright? You went into some sort of trance.”

I glared at Richard, the werewolf, the Ulfric of the local werewolf pack. Despite of his
muscular outside, he really is such a, how would ma petite say? Pansy. “I was quite alright, you
irritating lap dog.”

Richard frowned. “I am not a lap dog. Look, Jean-Claude, I’m doing you a favor, don’t
forget it.”

I chuckled, genuinely amused. “Richard, you are along on this trip, because I would not let
you do other wise. You are my animal to call, and you cannot resist me.” I really was true. Ah,
furballs can be so bothersome. Especially Richard. How he ever defeated Marcus, I do not
know. But I am told it took him three tries before he could stomach the deed.

“When are we scheduled to land?” asked a cool calculated voice behind me. I swiveled
around in my chair, to look Death himself in the eyes, ignoring Richard. I smiled, but knew it had
no charming effect on Monsieur Edward.

“I would estimate we are to land in Paris in four hours.”

He nodded, and continued to clean his gun. The oil was a rather unpleasant smell. A large
black bag accompanied him, what I assumed to be more weapons. Good. All the fire power in
the world was welcome, to be used to rescue ma petite. I swiveled back around to face the front
of the plane. Richard was glaring at me. I could see it out the corner of my eye. The werewolf
was indeed powerful, but had too many morals for my taste.

I turned to him, an amused smile on my lips. “Yes?”

“I am not your animal, Jean-Claude.”

I sighed. “Believe what you will, Richard, but we both know the truth.”

“You are such a bastard.”

“Merci.”

Richard frowned, crossing his arms, as a small child would. Realizing it was impossible to
make me flinch with his miniscule and powerless glare, he turned towards the front of the plane as
well, settling for the back of the chair in front of him as the target of his glare.

I reached out to ma petite, she was awake.

Anita’s POV

I woke up to a change of pressure in the cabin. We were landing. I rolled over on the
couch. I also realized I had on handcuffs. Whatever. I had a feeling that I could break them with
my new strength, but I would save that for when I really needed to be free.

Sitting up, I felt much better. The fourth mark did have its advantages. Amador entered the
cabin. “Did you sleep well.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Did you dream of me.”

“Obviously not. I said I slept well, if you remember.”

Amador smiled, kneeling in front of me. “I suppose you were dreaming of Jean-Claude,
weren’t you?”

“Now that’s the 64,000 dollar question.”

“Are you always this sarcastic?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “I make jokes, therefore I am.”

“Very philosophical,” he said, leaning in towards me. “We are going somewhere where you
will not be able to communicate with Jean-Claude.” I leaned back as far as I could in the seat. “I
am sorry if I upset you by feeding, Anita. You made me quite angry.”

I frowned. “You kidnapped me, and you expect me to be nice about it?”

“It would be for the wiser. You are under my power, as of the moment. And I really don’t
want to hurt you, Anita.”

“Where have I heard that before?” Amador leaned in, kissing me gently on the cheek. I
jerked back. “Don’t.”

“I can’t help myself.” He brushed his lips on mine, gently. They were soft, like
Jean-Claude’s. I pushed him back with handcuffed hands on his chest.

“Stop, please.” I think it was the please that made him stand, looking down at me.

“Give me time, Anita, and I shall win you over. Perhaps I am not as large of a monster as
you think.”

I frowned, but stayed silent. If he was going to be nice, then I could put half a foot forward.

The plane landed smoothly. I looked out the window, thankful to be on the ground again.
There were dozens of little brown rabbits everywhere on the runway. I guessed they were eating
the clover growing on the sides.

----------

I just had to add the rabbit part in. its true, though. When I went to Paris, there were dozens and
dozens of little rabbits on the sides of the runway, eating the grass. The memory stuck, so I had
to put it in. lol. Anyway……….

----------

I woke up on a soft bed. I had felt a small sting when we were getting off of the plane, but
it hadn’t registered that I had been drugged until I almost fell flat on my face. Everything was in
red, it was the bedroom from the very first dream Amador had sent me. I was alone in the room,
I could sense it. Of course, I had thought I was alone in my house not too long ago, and Amador
had been able to cloak himself against my radar. Damn.

I reached out to Jean-Claude through the marks, but couldn’t reach him. It was like there
was some sort of metaphysical wall surrounding the place. Damn. That’s what Amador had
meant when he said we were going somewhere that I wouldn’t be able to communicate with
Jean-Claude. Double damn.

A lady entered the room, shutting the door behind her. She was very tall, stretched thin,
like a giraffe. But she was pretty, in an exotic sort of way. Dark brown hair fell to nearly her
waist, framing a long, but well sculpted face. Her eyes were a startling color of yellow, and there
was a tattoo between her eyes, some symbol I didn’t recognize. She moved gracefully, not
human at all. “I am Wol-fij. Amador wishes you to dress for dinner.”

“Good for him.” I grumbled, the aftereffects of the drug not quite wore off yet.

“Now, now.” Said Wol-fij. “Its just dinner. You really shouldn’t make him angry, he can
be quite nasty when provoked.”

“I know.”

Wol-fij pulled a dress from the closet. “Ah, here it is. Amador wants you to wear this one.”
It was dark purple, of a heavy brocade material. I raised an eyebrow, and sat up.

“No way.”

“Why not?” She held up the dress. “Dark purple would become your skin wonderfully.”

“That’s great, really.”

She tossed me the dress. “Put it on, and I’ll take you to dinner.”

I put the dress aside. “How bout you take me to dinner now, as I am.”

Wol-fij frowned. “Just put it on. It won’t kill you.”

“Please, Anita, for me?” echoed Amador’s voice through the room.

“I won’t do anything for you!” I shouted.

“Then come to dinner in your jeans, Anita. If I would please you.”
 
 
 
 

Wol-fij led me to the dining room, seeing me through the door, then shutting it behind me. I
looked around. This room was done in shades of dark violet. Amador had wanted me to match
the room. Garg. The whole back wall was an array of windows, telling me it was night outside.
The half-breed demon himself sat at the head of a large table, covered with various dishes of
different types. My stomach growled at the sight and smell of real food.

I sat down at the opposite end of the table, what I assumed was my place. “I would have
rathered you wear the dress, Anita, but this will do.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Good.” I glared at him, helping myself to some food on the table.

Amador laughed. I noticed he wasn’t eating. He may be half demon, but I would bet he still
couldn’t consume solid food. “Anita, I am trying to be nice, you could return the favor.”

“I could.” I said. I noticed I had been given a knife. I picked it up, hefting it for balance in
my hand. “Not good for throwing,” I commented. Balance is all wrong.” I wasn’t going to try
killing Amador with the knife, though, just keeping him on his demonic toes, so to speak. Even if
I did manage to kill him, I would never make it out of this place alive. There were dozens of
guards around, I saw them on my way with Wol-fij. Amador watched me with the knife in
silence, his eyes attentive on my actions. I set it back down on the table.

I finished my dinner in silence, but I could feel Amador’s eyes on me. I rose from the table.
“Thank you for the dinner, I will go back to my room now.” I started for the door. Amador
stood in my way.

“Wouldn’t you care for an after-dinner dance? Or perhaps a midnight walk along the
beach.”

“I don’t dance.”

“A walk, then?”

“I don’t walk.”

“You are being difficult.”

“Yes.”

Amador smiled. “Fine, if you want to be that way… I have some people that would love to
get their hands on the Executioner. Some old friends of Jean-Claude’s. Perhaps after spending
some time in their hands, you will change your mind about me.”

“I doubt it.”

“Oh? I disagree. You do not know the vampires I will send you to.”

“Who?”

“The Council.”

Anita’s POV

Amador dragged me out of the estate, into a large courtyard. A black car was waiting. I
managed to twist away from him once, but was immediately in his grasp once again. “Do you
want to be drugged again, Anita?” I glared at him, not answering either way. “If not, then get in
the car.” He opened the door to the backseat, and pushed me in, sliding into the seat beside me.
I looked around for some sort of weapon, but none were to be found. Naturally. I sat on the
opposite side of the backseat, as far away from Amador as was possible. The car started, and
we began to move. To the council chambers, I suppose.

“Don’t skulk so, my dear. You brought this upon yourself.”

“I what?” A bewildered, disgusted look crossed my face.

“If you had just cooperated, I wouldn’t have to do this. But I will let my Belle Morte tame
you. She has many creative devices at her disposal.”

“Not man enough to torture me yourself?”

Amador chuckled, a harsh noise to irritate the ears. “My dear, you don’t want ME to
torture you. The demon in me can get quite carried away.”

I cringed mentally, but didn’t show my fear. “Oh, so naturally this is all my fault. You
kidnap me, against my will, and this is my fucking fault? I hate you.”

“Only because Jean-Claude lingers in your memory. You will soon forget that little pest.”

It was odd to hear Jean-Claude referred to as a pest. “I love him, Amador. You can’t
replace him. You don’t even come close to Jean-Claude.”

“Anita, I am the head of his line. All the sex that holds you to him, I can do all that and
much more.”

I shook my head. He didn’t understand at all. “You are such a fucking idiot.”

Suddenly I saw stars, a sharp stinging abraded my cheek. He had hit me again. “You
cannot trade insults with me comfortably, Anita.”

“And that is exactly my point.”

“What? That you walk all over Jean-Claude, that he is a slave to your every whim, no
matter how much you insult him? I want you more than anything I have desired in a long time, but
I will not be henpecked by you.”

I heard a familiar soft caressing chuckle in my head. I suppose now that we were out of the
house, the barrier was down as well. “He truly does not understand, does he? May I, ma petite?”

“May you what?” I was relieved to hear Jean-Claude’s voice, but bewildered by what he
meant.

“Speak to him, through you.”

I frowned. “I suppose.” I was careful not to say anything out loud to Jean-Claude. I didn’t
want Amador quite alert that Jean-Claude and I were communicating again. But as I felt
Jean-Claude’s thoughts flow from my lips, I knew the curtain, so to speak, was up.

Jean-Claude’s POV

I was relieved I could come in contact with ma petite again. We had lodged ourselves in a
hotel in Paris. Monsieur Edward was checking his lines to find Anita’s location, I was checking
mine. But direct contact is so much more functional.

I chuckled at Amador’s refusal to be “hen pecked.” I am not henpecked! I am not a
creature of the fowl genre, so to speak, anyways, so it would be quite impossible, non? It
seemed that all Amador understood at this point was sex, and really had no true grasp on love.
The two are wondrous when combined, but do not always necessarily walk hand in hand. But of
course the libertine half breed knows this? Mordiex, I will not even try to estimate the
machinations of his twisted mind.

“He truly does not understand, does he? May I, ma petite?”

“May you what?”

“Speak to him, through you.”

“I suppose,” she begrudgingly agreed.

Speaking through Anita’s lovely lips, I said to Amador, “Monsieur, what you do not
understand, is that I am not…henpecked, as you so chose to put it. I serve Anita because I love
her. Because it brings me joy to make her happy.”

Amador frowned. “Ah, but Jean-Claude, I have heard of the many insults she used to pay
you, on quite a regular basis. How can you live with her speaking to you as such?” I believe
Amador was truly curious.

“The insults, be as they may, are usually a defense mechanism to dispense of her anger,
Amador. I do not take them personally.” Usually, this is the case with me. But I knew she meant
every single insult aimed at Amador. However, if he could learn to become accustomed to her
vocal tendencies, then perhaps he would not hit her again. That was my goal, not to hurt
Amador’s pride. An impossible task, I am sure.

“Anita, is that what you want? To be waited upon, as some helpless princess?”

Ma petite answered on her own. “You don’t understand, Amador. I don’t think you are
capable of it. I just want to be left the hell alone!”

“Very well, Anita. I shall leave you alone for a few days, in the council’s care.”

The council? He was taking her to the council chambers? Mon Dieu! I must make haste!
The council chambers are far to the south in France, near Nimes. “Ma petite, inform me of your
arrival at once in the Council chambers. That shall be our best chance to take you back. I can
play the games of the council, but I fear I would loose if I were to challenge Amador to a duel.”

“No problem,” Anita said. The car lurched to a stop. “I think we’re here,” she said as
Amador yanked her out of the back seat of the car. I broke off contact, I had much to do here.
Arrangement for transportation to the south of France needed to be made. I could travel much
faster by myself, but there were the furballs and monsieur Edward who could not fly under
self-propulsion. And I did not dare face the council without my entourage, that would be suicide.
Suicidal tendencies would not help ma petite. I chuckled. It would not surprise me if ma petite
got out of this situation on her own, destroyed Amador in some fashion, and stood at the
council’s doorstep waiting for us to pick her up. That would be convenient, but with my
knowledge of Amador and the council, I deemed it highly unlikely.

Anita’s POV

Amador dragged me through several twisting passageways, seeming to know the way. I
had the sense that we were going further and further underground with each step. Shit.

Bursting through a pair of heavy oak doors, we entered a huge well lit room. The floor was
marble, the walls hung with tapestries. Crystal chandeliers graced the ceiling tastefully. Perhaps a
hundred or so vampires stood on the sidelines of the room, aghast at Amador’s interruption. Or
perhaps just aghast at the presence of the sex demon himself. But the vampire that scared me
most was sitting high up on a dais, on a golden throne. Her honey-brown eyes studied me with
great scrutiny. It appeared we had entered the court of Belle Morte.

Amador cleared the crowd as we walked, or rather he strode, and I was dragged along
behind. He tossed me to the foot of the dais forcefully. I slammed my hands down on the floor to
absorb some of the impact, but the landing was still painful. “Belle, I have brought you a gift,”
said Amador.

“Oh?” she asked. “Upon what occasion?”

“Do I need an occasion?”

“Of course not.” Belle Morte peered at me. “What do we owe in return for the delivery of
the executioner?”

“Nothing in return,” said Amador. “Except that I do want her back, in a few days, alive.
Show her come council hospitality that you are so famous for, Belle. It shouldn’t take but a few
days to break her.”

Belle Morte nodded. “As you wish, my lord.”

Amador nodded. With the final words, “Remember I want her back alive,” he left me to
the clutches of Belle Morte herself.

Belle Morte stood, in all her glory, and descended the throne to examine me. I stood,
watching her walk in circles around my person. “So the great Executioner herself has
condescended to grace us with her presence,” she said, jokingly. The courtiers all dutifully
laughed. Hooking a finger under my chin, she turned my face up to hers. I met her eyes, no
problem. “Ah, so Jean-Claude has indeed taken you for his servant. I assume you are his?”

“Yes.” I begrudgingly answered.

“So Amador wants us to show you some Council hospitality, does he? I believe I have just
the thing to start, Anita. Someone who would just love to get his hands on you.” She turned to
the crowd. “Asher!” she called.

Asher? Jean-Claude had told me about him, I had seen the painting. Last I had heard,
Asher wanted to kill me. Sort of an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth deal. Jean-Claude killed his
human servant, Asher would kill Jean-Claude’s human servant. I didn’t like that very much.

A man of 6 feet of height stepped from the crowd. He wore a loose white shirt, with brown
leather pants, and brown leather boots rode up to his knee. The shirt was buttoned all the way up
to the neck. A sheen of golden hair covered the right side of his face. “Yes, my dark queen?”

“You asked me for the life of Jean-Claude’s human servant, not long ago, did you not.”

Asher looked to me. His eyes were a startling pale blue. He looked the perfect golden twin
of Jean-Claude, but I knew the hair was hiding terrible holy water scars. “Oui, my queen. I did.”

“You cannot have her life, Asher, but for until Amador comes to collect her, she is yours.”

A wicked smile played across the visible half of Asher’s face. From the look in his eyes I
was suddenly very afraid. I saw pain. I saw angst. But most of all, I saw a hatred that made my
blood run cold. “That would please me very much, my dark queen.”
 
 
 
 

Amador dragged me out of the estate, into a large courtyard. A black car was waiting. I
managed to twist away from him once, but was immediately in his grasp once again. “Do you
want to be drugged again, Anita?” I glared at him, not answering either way. “If not, then get in
the car.” He opened the door to the backseat, and pushed me in, sliding into the seat beside me.
I looked around for some sort of weapon, but none were to be found. Naturally. I sat on the
opposite side of the backseat, as far away from Amador as was possible. The car started, and
we began to move. To the council chambers, I suppose.

“Don’t skulk so, my dear. You brought this upon yourself.”

“I what?” A bewildered, disgusted look crossed my face.

“If you had just cooperated, I wouldn’t have to do this. But I will let my Belle Morte tame
you. She has many creative devices at her disposal.”

“Not man enough to torture me yourself?”

Amador chuckled, a harsh noise to irritate the ears. “My dear, you don’t want ME to
torture you. The demon in me can get quite carried away.”

I cringed mentally, but didn’t show my fear. “Oh, so naturally this is all my fault. You
kidnap me, against my will, and this is my fucking fault? I hate you.”

“Only because Jean-Claude lingers in your memory. You will soon forget that little pest.”

It was odd to hear Jean-Claude referred to as a pest. “I love him, Amador. You can’t
replace him. You don’t even come close to Jean-Claude.”

“Anita, I am the head of his line. All the sex that holds you to him, I can do all that and
much more.”

I shook my head. He didn’t understand at all. “You are such a fucking idiot.”

Suddenly I saw stars, a sharp stinging abraded my cheek. He had hit me again. “You
cannot trade insults with me comfortably, Anita.”

“And that is exactly my point.”

“What? That you walk all over Jean-Claude, that he is a slave to your every whim, no
matter how much you insult him? I want you more than anything I have desired in a long time, but
I will not be henpecked by you.”

I heard a familiar soft caressing chuckle in my head. I suppose now that we were out of the
house, the barrier was down as well. “He truly does not understand, does he? May I, ma petite?”

“May you what?” I was relieved to hear Jean-Claude’s voice, but bewildered by what he
meant.

“Speak to him, through you.”

I frowned. “I suppose.” I was careful not to say anything out loud to Jean-Claude. I didn’t
want Amador quite alert that Jean-Claude and I were communicating again. But as I felt
Jean-Claude’s thoughts flow from my lips, I knew the curtain, so to speak, was up.

Jean-Claude’s POV

I was relieved I could come in contact with ma petite again. We had lodged ourselves in a
hotel in Paris. Monsieur Edward was checking his lines to find Anita’s location, I was checking
mine. But direct contact is so much more functional.

I chuckled at Amador’s refusal to be “hen pecked.” I am not henpecked! I am not a
creature of the fowl genre, so to speak, anyways, so it would be quite impossible, non? It
seemed that all Amador understood at this point was sex, and really had no true grasp on love.
The two are wondrous when combined, but do not always necessarily walk hand in hand. But of
course the libertine half breed knows this? Mordiex, I will not even try to estimate the
machinations of his twisted mind.

“He truly does not understand, does he? May I, ma petite?”

“May you what?”

“Speak to him, through you.”

“I suppose,” she begrudgingly agreed.

Speaking through Anita’s lovely lips, I said to Amador, “Monsieur, what you do not
understand, is that I am not…henpecked, as you so chose to put it. I serve Anita because I love
her. Because it brings me joy to make her happy.”

Amador frowned. “Ah, but Jean-Claude, I have heard of the many insults she used to pay
you, on quite a regular basis. How can you live with her speaking to you as such?” I believe
Amador was truly curious.

“The insults, be as they may, are usually a defense mechanism to dispense of her anger,
Amador. I do not take them personally.” Usually, this is the case with me. But I knew she meant
every single insult aimed at Amador. However, if he could learn to become accustomed to her
vocal tendencies, then perhaps he would not hit her again. That was my goal, not to hurt
Amador’s pride. An impossible task, I am sure.

“Anita, is that what you want? To be waited upon, as some helpless princess?”

Ma petite answered on her own. “You don’t understand, Amador. I don’t think you are
capable of it. I just want to be left the hell alone!”

“Very well, Anita. I shall leave you alone for a few days, in the council’s care.”

The council? He was taking her to the council chambers? Mon Dieu! I must make haste!
The council chambers are far to the south in France, near Nimes. “Ma petite, inform me of your
arrival at once in the Council chambers. That shall be our best chance to take you back. I can
play the games of the council, but I fear I would loose if I were to challenge Amador to a duel.”

“No problem,” Anita said. The car lurched to a stop. “I think we’re here,” she said as
Amador yanked her out of the back seat of the car. I broke off contact, I had much to do here.
Arrangement for transportation to the south of France needed to be made. I could travel much
faster by myself, but there were the furballs and monsieur Edward who could not fly under
self-propulsion. And I did not dare face the council without my entourage, that would be suicide.
Suicidal tendencies would not help ma petite. I chuckled. It would not surprise me if ma petite
got out of this situation on her own, destroyed Amador in some fashion, and stood at the
council’s doorstep waiting for us to pick her up. That would be convenient, but with my
knowledge of Amador and the council, I deemed it highly unlikely.
 
 

Anita’s POV

Amador dragged me through several twisting passageways, seeming to know the way. I
had the sense that we were going further and further underground with each step. Shit.

Bursting through a pair of heavy oak doors, we entered a huge well lit room. The floor was
marble, the walls hung with tapestries. Crystal chandeliers graced the ceiling tastefully. Perhaps a
hundred or so vampires stood on the sidelines of the room, aghast at Amador’s interruption. Or
perhaps just aghast at the presence of the sex demon himself. But the vampire that scared me
most was sitting high up on a dais, on a golden throne. Her honey-brown eyes studied me with
great scrutiny. It appeared we had entered the court of Belle Morte.

Amador cleared the crowd as we walked, or rather he strode, and I was dragged along
behind. He tossed me to the foot of the dais forcefully. I slammed my hands down on the floor to
absorb some of the impact, but the landing was still painful. “Belle, I have brought you a gift,”
said Amador.

“Oh?” she asked. “Upon what occasion?”

“Do I need an occasion?”

“Of course not.” Belle Morte peered at me. “What do we owe in return for the delivery of
the executioner?”

“Nothing in return,” said Amador. “Except that I do want her back, in a few days, alive.
Show her come council hospitality that you are so famous for, Belle. It shouldn’t take but a few
days to break her.”

Belle Morte nodded. “As you wish, my lord.”

Amador nodded. With the final words, “Remember I want her back alive,” he left me to
the clutches of Belle Morte herself.

Belle Morte stood, in all her glory, and descended the throne to examine me. I stood,
watching her walk in circles around my person. “So the great Executioner herself has
condescended to grace us with her presence,” she said, jokingly. The courtiers all dutifully
laughed. Hooking a finger under my chin, she turned my face up to hers. I met her eyes, no
problem. “Ah, so Jean-Claude has indeed taken you for his servant. I assume you are his?”

“Yes.” I begrudgingly answered.

“So Amador wants us to show you some Council hospitality, does he? I believe I have just
the thing to start, Anita. Someone who would just love to get his hands on you.” She turned to
the crowd. “Asher!” she called.

Asher? Jean-Claude had told me about him, I had seen the painting. Last I had heard,
Asher wanted to kill me. Sort of an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth deal. Jean-Claude killed his
human servant, Asher would kill Jean-Claude’s human servant. I didn’t like that very much.

A man of 6 feet of height stepped from the crowd. He wore a loose white shirt, with brown
leather pants, and brown leather boots rode up to his knee. The shirt was buttoned all the way up
to the neck. A sheen of golden hair covered the right side of his face. “Yes, my dark queen?”

“You asked me for the life of Jean-Claude’s human servant, not long ago, did you not.”

Asher looked to me. His eyes were a startling pale blue. He looked the perfect golden twin
of Jean-Claude, but I knew the hair was hiding terrible holy water scars. “Oui, my queen. I did.”

“You cannot have her life, Asher, but for until Amador comes to collect her, she is yours.”

A wicked smile played across the visible half of Asher’s face. From the look in his eyes I
was suddenly very afraid. I saw pain. I saw angst. But most of all, I saw a hatred that made my
blood run cold. “That would please me very much, my dark queen.”

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