Rites of Blood: Cora's Choice Bunble 4-6 Read Free Page A

on,” the boy muttered to her, keeping the smile plastered on his face as he stared me down. “She’s not human. Let’s go around.”
    “I want to climb up at the end of the carpet,” the girl said, digging in her heels as he tugged at her hand, little tendrils of will, sensed but not seen, emanating from her. But the older boy overpowered her and dragged her back into the crowd.
    Children. Vampire children. The too-perfect facsimiles of humanity in the adult agnates were disconcerting enough, but the children seemed almost like actors, poured into small bodies and playing a role, skillfully hitting all the right notes with the jaded eye of a master manipulator. I was immune, but any true human not under another agnate’s thrall would have had her mind turned into mush by one look at those pretty faces.
    I shuddered.
    “Dorian, darling!”
    My attention was jolted to an agnatic woman who came sailing up to us, her dark hair clasped in golden bands. Her goddess-style dress was all white draperies and crisscrossed gold cords that served to emphasize her breasts and the swelling of her pregnant belly.
    She was flanked by two muscular, bare-chested men—both non-agnates, I realized—an absurdity even among the varied attire of the other guests. As she advanced, other agnates muttered or stared, and she preened under their disapproval. The men each had an oval mark over their right hip. Both cognates, then? The woman must have a matching mark, invisible beneath her dress.
    “I am so glad you finally found someone. Two hundred years of abstinence cannot be healthy.” She smiled toothily, thrusting her hand at him.
    Dorian bowed over it, wearing a chilly smile. “As delightful as always, Veronica.”
    “You’re such a clever boy,” she said. “Now all you need is a second little plaything.”
    She patted the nearest man proprietarily on the shoulder with one long-nailed hand. With a chuckle, he caught her hand and kissed it, and her expression turned blatantly carnal.
    “One is fun, but two are better,” she purred.
    “You can stop terrorizing my cognate now,” Dorian said through his teeth, his smile unwavering. “It isn’t gracious to bully your hostess.”
    “Why, heavens forfend!” She put her hand to her heart and took a deep breath as she turned to me, not coincidentally drawing attention to her generous breasts. “Oh, my dear, are you still such a prude? Don’t worry. It never lasts long.”
    I jerked back automatically as she reached out to touch my shoulder.
    She laughed again and cradled her belly. “And who knows? Soon enough, you’ll have little ones of your own to think about.”
    With that, she sashayed off, the men sauntering in her wake.
    “Are they really both—” I whispered.
    “Yes,” he said shortly. “But it’s considered very poor form.”
    I reached for another flute of champagne as a waiter passed by, but no sooner had I grasped it than Dorian plucked it from my fingers and placed it back on the tray, then took my free hand in his for a brief squeeze.
    “You’ve had quite enough, Cora,” he said. “You’re doing fine. You don’t need that.”
    His reassurance wrapped around me with almost a physical force, warm and muffling, and I sensed a distant twinge of panic that I could not properly feel.
    My head was spinning with all the people and the champagne by the time the orchestra stopped and a bell rang deep in the recesses of the house. The sea of guests began to flow, slowly but steadily, toward the stairs, the buzz of conversation continuing unabated.
    Dorian stepped along with them, and I bobbed at his side, anchored to his strength.
    “Is it over?” I asked, not quite daring to hope that it was.
    “Only the introductions.” Dorian looked down at me, studying me closely for the first time since he had stepped down from the top of the stairs. The hard light of victory faded slightly from his eyes, replaced with a hint of pity.
    I didn’t want his pity. I wanted