“So, what, then? I pay my membership dues, get the secret decoder ring?”
He chuckled slightly. “I want you to agree to come with me. To remain by my side, under my protection, and to give me or any vampire I choose a taste of your blood when we wish it. I promise you, if you do that, we’ll never take so much as to make you ill or weak. Scarcity is half the value, you know. You’ll have all the trappings of wealth. My tribe will serve you as ardently as they serve me. If you liked, we could make this a very pleasant arrangement—” His hands settled on her hips, making it clear what he meant by that. “But if you wish to keep matters on a professional basis, you may have whatever companions you wish. Except Balthazar, of course. He’s a rogue. A menace to his own kind. That won’t do at all.”
“Why is it so important to you that I join you if you’re just going to take me anyway?”
“Easier, for one,” he said. “More agreeable, also, and I like things to be agreeable and easy. Despite what Balthazar might have told you, I’m actually rather generous as long as I get my way.” As if that was some great virtue, Skye thought. “Besides, there’s a particular sweetness in bending someone’s will that mere force cannot possess. The deaths of the More family? A night’s entertainment. Slowly turning Charity into my most devoted progeny? Unending bliss.”
“Is that supposed to be your sales pitch?” Already she could begin to feel some of her will returning to her; the ghostly shimmers of false pleasure she’d felt at Redgrave’s touch had started to fade. “There’s nothing I want more than to be rid of you. Forever. I’m not coming with you, no matter what.”
“You say that before I describe the alternative.” Redgrave’s hands went to her hands around his neck and seized them both; the pressure was hard, crushing. Meant to hurt. He pushed her back—dance over—but kept her in his powerful grip. “You will come with me, Skye. By your will or against your will. As I’ve said, I’d prefer it if you chose this path. And much less trouble than keeping you captive. But if I have to build you a cage, girl—I will.”
“Let me go,” Skye said. Finally her body returned to her, and she jerked back as hard as she could, but it wasn’t enough to break his hold. “I’ll never do it.”
“I could do so much for you, Skye. Why don’t you choose a man who really wants you? Who knows what he is and doesn’t run away from it?”
The reminder of Balthazar’s rejection stung, but not enough to distract Skye from what she had to do.
“I would never choose you.” With that, she kneed Redgrave between the legs as hard as she could.
Somehow Redgrave still held on to her, but she had the satisfaction of seeing his face contort in pain as he half doubled over. As he swore, Skye kept trying to tug herself free of him, and at least managed to tow them a few steps closer to the door before he recovered himself, gasping, “That wasn’t nice.”
“Let go of me, you son of a bitch!”“Why are you carrying on so? I’m not going to hurt you tonight. Nothing’s going to change tonight, nothing at all. This is merely your chance to learn more about what will happen.” Redgrave’s expression betrayed his smoothly handsome face; at last she could see the monster within. “Let me tell you what your life’s going to be like in the cage.”
Skye jerked back again—just in time for Redgrave to be flung bodily away from her, into the wall.
Balthazar stood there—in from the side hallway, silent as a cat, so that she hadn’t heard him approaching. His hands were clenched into fists, and again it hit her just how enormous a man he was. “Get out of here,” he said to Redgrave, reaching into his pocket and revealing a stake. Was he keeping that on him at all times? Not a bad idea. “Get the hell out of here, now.”
Redgrave rose, attempting to collect himself. But the eerie light in his eyes was more inhuman than ever. “Why so furious? I only came here to talk—that’s all.”
“You were touching her.”
Something deep in Skye’s chest fluttered, turned over.
Redgrave began backing away, but he said, “It’s too late, Balthazar. The others are coming. They know about Skye. They’re eager for a taste. And what won’t they do to get it?”
“You sound like a drug dealer,” Skye snapped.
Balthazar’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God. That’s it. You don’t want her blood for yourself at all; you want others to do your bidding in order to get it.”
Redgrave grinned. “I expected you to catch on before now, Balthazar. You’ve always been clever—clever enough, at least. How you went on and on about Skye’s blood as a drug, without ever realizing the possibilities. I realized them as soon as Lorenzo let me drink from him. Virtually any vampire on earth would do anything … anything, if it meant they could feel the experience of life again.”
It was too much at once, but Skye kept trying to put it all together. “You—you said scarcity was half the value. That’s why you’d only bleed me bit by bit. You want my blood to be hard to get, so the others will have to come through you.”
“As indeed they will,” Redgrave said. “Think of the potential, Balthazar. It’s been more than a century since we last had a prince. Don’t you think we’re overdue?”
Balthazar backed closer to Skye, his arm out, as if attempting to shield her from even the idea of this. “You want to start the old wars over again. Claim absolute power for yourself.”