So what was it about Doug’s blood that jump-started her heart? She knew the answer before she even asked herself the question. Doug was her bloodmate. He had to be. It was the only explanation that made sense, and while the thought thrilled her, the reality didn’t. The only way he could truly be her bloodmate would be if she turned him, and that was the last thing on earth she wanted to do.
Olivia arrived at the main entrance of the Presidium, in the catacombs beneath the Cloisters, and let out a sigh of relief. She brushed at the droplets of moisture and dirt on her suit that she’d picked up along the way.
“Damn it.” Her voice echoed. “I’m going to make Maya pay the dry- cleaning bill.”
Olivia pushed in one of the rectangular stones along the top of the wall, and moments later an oblong section of the wall swung inward to reveal the opulent hallways of the Presidium’s central office network. She stepped through, and as the door shut silently, she allowed herself a moment to appreciate the pristine environment. Olivia looked down the hall in both directions, but thankfully, found herself alone, at least for the time being.
She adjusted her suit jacket and fluffed her hair in an effort to not look like she had been in the tunnels. Olivia shuddered. The pictures on the wall looked like they were watching her. The czar and his senators loved to honor themselves any chance they got, and it started by having their pictures lining the main hall of the central office.
As if they could forget who ruled their society. Memories of executions she had overseen as a sentry came roaring back in living color, and while she remembered all of them, there was one face that would haunt her forever.
The young vampire slaughtered an entire frat house before they caught her, but the damage was done—and so was she. The girl was only twelve. She suffered from a bad turn, and after her maker abandoned her, she went the wrong way fast. The last sound Olivia heard as she dove into the desert tunnels leading back to Las Vegas were the little girl’s screams as she turned to dust.
She paused at Czar Augustus’s portrait, and her mouth set in a tight line as she studied her former boss. He was the czar in Vegas during Olivia’s time as sentry and heartlessly ordered the girl’s execution. Augustus was a bastard and took sheer pleasure in executing anyone who broke the precious rules, unless, of course, it was one of his own progeny.
Augustus’s son, Brutus, turned the girl and left her to run amok with no guidance or training, fearful with a burning thirst for blood. Brutus should have been executed for his crime because the rules had been broken, but he’s Augustus’s flesh and blood son. So instead of death, Brutus was banished to hibernation for fifty years. She heard when he woke up that he split for Europe. Too bad dear old daddy didn’t go with him.
Augustus and Brutus were no different from human men who thrived on power.
They were both sick fucks.
She never understood why Emperor Zhao put Augustus in charge of the northeastern territory after his century of service was up in Vegas. He seemed suited to the Eastern Bloc nations. Augustus and the four senators who served with him reveled in the dark side of the city. There were plenty of drunks, drug addicts, and homeless to indulge in continuous live feeds.
Her heels clicked along the blood-red marble floor and echoed around her with irritating clarity as she hurried toward the records room. The ornate crystal chandeliers hung from the curved ceiling and glittered brightly along the yellow halls, giving the illusion of sunlight.
The buzz of the security camera captured her attention as it followed her every move. Olivia waved to the blinking eye and delivered a tight smile as she stopped in front of the arched wooden door. The click of the lock releasing echoed through the empty hallway, and Olivia readied herself for whoever was waiting on the other side.
It could have been Millicent with a few of the pit bulls that watched the Presidium halls during the day. It would be highly unlikely to find Augustus awake during the day, let alone roaming the halls, because he would think that was beneath him. She slipped her hand in the pocket of her jacket and wrapped her fingers around the cool glass tubes as she pulled the door open.
Pete leaned casually against the gray stone wall with his arms crossed over his chest and winked. “Hey, boss lady.”
Olivia narrowed her eyes as the door closed behind her. “I thought I told you not to worry.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged and pushed himself away from the wall. “You know how much I suck at following orders. Besides, Marianna told me that if I didn’t help you, then I wasn’t getting laid for a while.”
Olivia smothered a laugh and shook her head. “Nice.”
“Come on.” He headed down the stone hallway. “Millicent is waiting.”
Olivia’s senses were on high alert as she glanced around the vacant hall. “Where are the dogs?”
“I’ll put them out when we’re done. Oh, by the way, I filled Shane in on the murder, but not the specifics, like we agreed.”
“Good,” she said tightly. “I haven’t met him, which means I don’t trust him. We need to have proof that Maya is innocent before they get more information. Augustus in particular.”
“Not a problem.” Pete kept his voice down and adjusted one of the weapons beneath his long coat. “They rely on Shane and me to keep them apprised of the happenings out there. We’re lucky that poor old Ronald was murdered in my borough. If it had been Queens, Staten Island, or Brooklyn, then Shane would be all over it. He did tell me that if we need his help, he’d be obliged to assist.” Pete let out a short laugh. “Those were his exact words, by the way, obliged to assist.”
“Sounds like a fun guy,” Olivia said under her breath.
They strode side by side through the maze of stone hallways, their path lit by the flickering light from wrought iron chandeliers. The halls that led from room to room were medieval in their décor and hadn’t changed in centuries. However, when Augustus took over the New York location, he decorated most of the rooms with the same opulence of the main entrance, and all of the floors were laid out with bloodred marble.
After several turns down the passageway, they arrived at the Hall of Records. The heavy wooden door with studded steel bolts and iron hinges swung open before they got within ten feet.
Olivia grinned. Millicent always was dramatic.
Cloaked by a cloud of smoke, she sat behind a massive mahogany desk with a cigarette dangling from her red lips and her feet on the desk. Her white hair was carefully coiffed into her usual bouffant bubble hairdo. Clad in her standard gray skirt suit, she looked like she owned the place.
She may not have owned it, but she sure as hell ran it.
The wall behind her desk was one massive computer with several screens. The large plasma screen along the top currently held the image of a tropical beach at sunrise.
“Well, get your ass in here,” she croaked. The older woman dropped her feet to the floor and crushed her cigarette in an ornate crystal ashtray full of a hundred butts. “I’m fucking tired and would like to get some sleep before sundown.”
At first glance, she was a harmless old lady, and maybe she had been in her human life, but as a vampire she was deadly. In fact, her unassuming physical appearance made her an extremely effective assassin as a sentry. She served during the Civil War and put down more rogue vampires than any other sentry in history. Wartime had a funny way of increasing the number of untrained vampires on the loose.
Olivia handed Millicent the specimen tubes and smiled. “Thank you for helping us with this and for being discreet.”
“Discreet?” Millicent made a snort of derision. “There’s something I haven’t ever been called.” She shot Pete a narrow gaze. “Shut the fuckin’ door already.”