Dominic

I stepped out of the bedroom, dressed in my new clothes but holding the tie in my hand. Google is your friend, echoed in my mind. "Like hell it is," I muttered, cursing my inability to tie the damn thing.

Anthony was meeting the white-haired vampire again, and he'd asked me to come along. He hadn't even needed to comment on my outfit; I was happy to wear the new clothes he'd bought. I had to admit I'd felt uncomfortably out of place at the party. Everyone else had been dressed to the nines—except me. The glances I'd gotten had been curious and far from disdainful. My French blood seemed to intrigue them; Anthony and I were exotic. But I didn't belong among the upper class. They made me feel like an outsider, the opposite of Anthony, who had relished every second.

I scanned the room for him and found him in the largest of our armchairs, nose buried in a classic morning paper. There was something old-fashioned about the scene. Who the hell reads newspapers anymore?  The moment I stepped forward, he glanced up at me over the edge of the paper. I slipped one hand into the pocket of my pressed trousers and held out the tie with the other, letting it dangle like a black, lifeless snake.

Without a word, he rose from the chair, folded the paper neatly, and placed it on the coffee table. Taking the tie from my hand, he flipped up my shirt collar and draped the slim silk fabric around my neck. His body was so close that I caught the scent of his cologne, and I took the opportunity to study his chiseled features up close. He was fully concentrated, and my eyes wandered over his annoyingly perfect, masculine face.

"You look tired," he remarked as his fingers worked to create the perfect knot.

"Nightmares," I replied with a shrug.

"Every night?"

I nodded. "Pretty much."

He studied me for a moment, his hands resting on my shoulders after brushing away some nonexistent lint from my shirt. "What are they about?"

"Nothing," I mumbled, not eager to share my worst memories.

"Tell me," he commanded, his steely gray eyes pinning me in place.

I knew immediately; I wouldn't be able to dodge this. Damn it, I shouldn't have opened my big mouth.  "A mental hospital," I sighed, lowering my gaze and starting to step back.

But he grabbed my neck firmly.  "That's why you hate him," he said, his tone certain. "Lumiere."

I swallowed hard. "Did you see what he did?" I bit my lip before looking up at him. "Through Clocks' eyes? Did you see?" My words came out desperate, hoping he already knew so I wouldn't have to explain.

When he shook his head, I closed my eyes tightly, assaulted by the horrific memories that haunted me.  "Tell me everything, Dominic," he said calmly, "and I won't ask again." He paused, cupping my face with his palms. "I can make the memories disappear, but first, I want to know what he did."

I took a sharp breath and stared at him. "You can erase memories?"

He nodded, his thumb grazing my chin. I couldn't help but draw a bit of strength from his unshakable presence. I hesitated, but his command had a way of pulling the words out of me. Was that another of his abilities? I wondered before I began to speak.  "He made us capture humans," I whispered, "and he fed them blood. He experimented on them." My body started trembling, sweat beading on my forehead as the horrors he had forced us to endure replayed in my mind.

"Go on," he commanded, though his voice was softer than usual.

"Many turned into Les Affamés, so he decided to create a hybrid—a monster that was smarter and would follow orders."

Anthony's eyes narrowed, and I heard his heart pound harder within his broad chest. He was angrier than he let on. "How?" he asked simply.

"He gave the victims..." I clapped a hand over my mouth, struggling to keep down the breakfast I'd just eaten. "He gave the humans..." Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I grabbed the lapel of his jacket for support. He didn't seem to mind.

"He made them drink blood from the hungry," he whispered, not waiting for my answer.

"He created deformed freaks—grotesque experiments I had to kill and bury in the backyard."

"And this went on unchecked until he finally succeeded in creating a hybrid?"

I nodded. "And then they flooded all of Paris." Without thinking, I rested my forehead heavily on his shoulder. There was something calming, almost hypnotic, about his presence.

"So it's his fault they hate us," he muttered, his fingertips brushing against my neck.

"He just gave them another reason to hate us."

He sighed deeply. "We've found new allies here."

I lifted my head to look into his eyes, a deep crease forming between my brows. "He was your heir."

"He was clearly a power-mad lunatic," he chuckled, tracing his fingers along my jaw and up to my temples. "I can erase the memory now."

I shook my head and stepped back. "Life is never that easy," I sighed. "Shortcuts usually come back to bite you."

He let out a short laugh. "You're smarter than you look."

I raised an eyebrow and smirked before adjusting my shirt. "Admit it, I look pretty smart in this outfit, don't I?"

Amusement danced in his eyes as he gave me a brief nod. "Ready?"

I wiped away my tears and nodded. "Ready."

The room was hideously decorated, filled with far too many trinkets and gold for my taste. The air was heavy with smoke and scented candles, and I immediately got the impression that someone was trying to mask an underlying stench, likely coming from something truly unpleasant.

"Anthony," greeted the white-haired vampire, gesturing for him to sit in one of the spacious armchairs. "The staff can wait in the adjacent room," he insisted, casting a quick glance in my direction.

With a deep sigh and my trademark raised eyebrow, I shot Anthony a quick look to gauge his reaction. I fully expected to be sent outside to wait while the big boys discussed important matters.

To my surprise, Anthony extended a hand toward me, waiting for me to take it.  "So, you're handling the serving yourself tonight, Lucas?" he asked in his smooth voice, the kind that was soft but carried hints of a thousand torments that could be unleashed on anyone who dared answer incorrectly.

I took his hand, allowing him to lead me to one of the sofas, where we sat together, my hand still resting in his. The situation felt unsettling—not because we were holding hands; on the contrary, that was oddly comforting. It was the meeting itself and the likely topics of discussion that sent chills down my spine.

The pale-haired man studied me intently, and I fought to maintain a neutral expression. "You'll have to excuse me; I must have misunderstood your relationship," he said with a smile, leaning over the table to pour three glasses of champagne from a glittering bottle.

"Apology accepted," Anthony murmured, raising his glass in a small toast before bringing the bubbling drink to his lips.

"I have good news, my friend," Lucas continued, handing a stack of papers to the prince. "Your old bank accounts and assets are yours again."

I watched as the tension visibly left Anthony's body the moment his fingers closed around the documents. For several minutes, he read through them one by one. Meanwhile, I took the opportunity to study the man before me. His eyes were as red as Julienne's, and his skin just as pale. It struck me how similar they looked.

"So rude of me," he began. "I haven't introduced myself."

I met his gaze and gave a barely perceptible nod. "I know who you are," I replied with a smile. "Like everyone else in this part of the country."

He nodded approvingly but added in a sharp tone, "And you have a name, I assume."

"Dominic Loyson."

"So, Dominic, you've been spending time with my sister," he said suddenly, confirming my suspicions.

"Julienne?"

He nodded, giving me a sly smile. "You'll have to excuse her; she has a big appetite for newcomers."

"No harm done," I replied calmly, though I immediately felt Anthony's gaze from the corner of my eye.

"Everything is in order," Anthony concluded, slipping the papers into his jacket's inner pocket before taking another sip of champagne.

"And our agreement?" Lucas asked with feigned indifference.

Anthony turned his head toward me, offering a smile, though his tone was almost mocking when he spoke. "Lucas is the big boss here in New Orleans, Dominic—the spider at the center of the web, so to speak." I met his gaze, wondering what he was after, but decided to remain silent. "He's helped us reclaim my assets, but favors always come with a price."

I licked my lips and glanced calmly between the two of them. "Of course," I replied, accepting a small white envelope from Lucas's hand. "Consider it done."

Fucking princes. Hadn't he said we were leaving that life behind? I was angry but chose not to make a scene. Instead, I slipped the envelope into my inner pocket like Anthony had done, but rather than sipping champagne, I decided to mess with him.

I leaned forward and grabbed Anthony's personal cigarette case out of his pocket.  With a I-don't-give-a-shit attitude, I leaned back into the sofa, crossed one leg over the other, and extended my hand, waiting for the lighter.

With an amused smile, he studied me for a moment before leaning forward to light the cigar for me. And suddenly, my heart stopped. The small gesture spoke louder than a thousand words. Suddenly, we were equals in the room, and Lucas could shove something really big and unpleasant up his ass.  He might be a fucking prince, but he was mine, and together, we would wipe that smug grin off Lucas's face permanently.

"I think I hate him more than Lumiere," I hissed, shrugging off my jacket and tossing it onto the back of the brown leather couch in our living room.

With a sigh, Anthony left the room, only to return moments later with a hanger. Before I could protest, he'd hung my jacket neatly in its new spot in the closet."He'll be useful to us."

I shook my head and opened the envelope I'd been given. "Do you know what it says?" I asked, glancing up at him through my hair, my brow furrowed.

He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for my answer. "His own sister," I muttered.

"A test."

I tossed the slip of paper and walked toward the kitchen to steady my nerves. As I began pulling out bowls and utensils, along with flour, eggs, and sugar, Anthony followed, leaning casually in the doorway.

"I can handle the problem myself," he said, watching my movements intently. I nodded slowly and began measuring out ingredients from memory. "But he'll find out."

"Probably," I replied calmly, starting to dice apples.

"Just say yes or no, Dominic."

"A vampire more or less," I shrugged.

"Then why are you so upset?"

His question broke something inside me, and I slammed the knife down, spinning to face him. "Because you practically promised we'd leave that life behind us."

"One last time."

I rolled my eyes and groaned. "It always starts like that, doesn't it? And then suddenly, you're knee-deep in a blood-soaked factory with human remains everywhere."

He sighed, dropping his gaze. "I needed his help."

"I get that," I muttered, brushing flour off my hands. "Do you like apple pie?"

He tilted his head and let out a short laugh. "Apple pie?"

I gestured toward the chaos in the kitchen. "Yes, apple pie."

"Of course."

"Good. Then you can help me," I grumbled, nudging him toward the cutting board. "One-centimeter cubes, no bigger," I instructed, showing him how to peel and dice the apples.

His movements were clumsy at first, but he quickly got the hang of it. "Did you fall for her?"

I shrugged. "She was entertaining." His knife moved rhythmically across the fruit, and I rolled up my sleeves, plunging my hands into the bowl of butter and dry ingredients. "I'll handle it," I murmured eventually. "It's for the best." I felt his gaze on me, but I kept my eyes on the pie crust. "Maybe I'll take her on a date or something."

"Thank you," he whispered, and it suddenly hit me how much this bothered him, how he'd rather not have asked me for this at all.

"You're different," I observed.

"Than?"

"Than the prince Belmont described. The vampire he was terrified of."

"A book has many pages," he replied evenly.

"Maybe, but I think that castle made you just as mad as all the other poor souls trapped in it."

"But now I'm free of its chains?" he laughed.

"Something like that," I replied with a shrug, rolling out the dough on the counter.

"You're different too, Dominic," he said, brushing some flour off my cheek with a smile."I baked long before I became a vampire."

"Any other hidden talents?"

I shrugged, giving him a wink. "Stick around, and you'll see."