NOT FOR SALE Read online

  I felt Michael slowing as we passed Gloriana's group, as if he was reluctant to miss the opportunity, but he kept going. We went to the punch table, which featured two kinds— with plasma, and without. He poured mine first. When I looked over at him, his face looked paler than normal, and the pupils of his eyes had gone wide, even in the relatively bright light.

  "What?" I asked him.

  "Nothing."

  Shane squired Claire over to join us, already scanning the edible snacks with the eye of a kid who'd grown up snatching food where he could. He grabbed a plate and filled it until Claire slapped his hand. "You're not starving," she said. "Come on."

  "It's been a long time since lunch," Shane said. "So yeah, I am, Slappy Girl. Do you want one of these or not?" He held up a carrot stick. When she nodded, he fed it to her. Awww. So cute. "All right, you are now a party to the overindulgence. Quiet."

  Claire, bless her, had somehow blackmailed Shane into donning a suit jacket, at least, although the pants looked suspiciously like dark jeans. At least he'd left the tuxedo T-shirt at home. The vamps wouldn't have been amused. He was even wearing a tie, though it featured Bettie Page in a lot of provocative poses. I hoped Oliver hadn't noticed.

  "Did you see Gloriana?" Claire asked her boyfriend. Shane—big, scruffy Shane, who was cute in a totally different way than Michael, but really, just about as sweet— looked down at her and cocked one eyebrow.

  "Am I alive?" he asked, and put his hand over his heart. "Yep, I noticed her. Oh, sorry, Mikey. No offense to the unalive."

  Michael would normally have flipped him off— best-friends love—but he just gave Shane a look. Not his normal look, either. "Watch yourself with her," Michael said. "There's something . . . not right about her."

  "Dude, she looks very right." Shane lost his humor and started to frown. "Are you okay?"

  "I can feel—" Michael shut his eyes tightly. "I can feel her from here. It's like a . . . call. A pull."

  His hand was tight on mine, so tight it was painful, and I gave a little squeak of pain. When his eyes opened, they were crimson, and his pupils had shrunk down to small pinpoints.

  I turned and looked. Gloriana was standing up. The men crowding around her were backing off, making ... an exit. She smiled at them and glided out, hardly seeming to touch the floor as she went.

  She headed straight for us.

  For Michael.

  She was wearing red gloves, and her diamonds, just like Amelie's, were real. Her smile was brighter than the glitter of the jewels. "Michael," she said, and took his hands in hers. He dropped mine so fast it was as if he'd forgotten I was there, and leaned in. She air-kissed him on both cheeks. He didn't pull back very far, and she didn't let go of his hands. "So glad you came to my party. It wouldn't have been a welcome without you, mon chere." She did let go then, but only to reach up and touch his eyelids to close them. "You're going too far. Control. You must learn control."

  He was shuddering very slightly, but when she stepped back, he opened his eyes, and the red was almost gone. Almost. "Thanks," he said. His voice sounded rough in his throat. "Have you met my friends? You remember Eve . . ."

  Somehow, having my name follow the word "friends" didn't make me feel any better at all. I didn't say anything. Neither did Gloriana, who just nodded very slightly. I couldn't tell what she felt about me, if she felt anything at all.

  "And this is Claire—"

  "Yes, we've met," Gloriana said. Her voice was warm and very sweet. "How is dear Myrnin? I thought he would be here tonight."

  "He doesn't do parties, mostly," Claire said. She seemed kind of charmed by Gloriana's make-nice attitude, which was surprising; Claire was usually more level-headed than that. "Well, neither do I, really. Oh, this is Shane, by the way. My boyfriend."

  "Charming," Gloriana said, and extended her hand to him, knuckles up. Shane, who looked just about as overcome as every other guy in the room, took it and shook vigorously. Gloriana looked, just for a moment, taken aback, and then she smiled, again. "Very direct, I see."

  "I'm not subtle," Shane agreed. "You're very pretty."

  Claire dug her elbow into his side. He didn't seem to notice. Gloriana's smile grew wider. "Yes," she said. "I'm afraid I am. It's a bit of a curse, sometimes." She turned back to Michael, who was still treating me like a nonperson, and held out her fingers. "Perhaps you'll save me from this sea of admirers," she said. "And escort me to the dance floor."

  I opened my mouth, then closed it, because without a glance at me, Michael walked her past me, out to the open area of the ballroom, and the musicians struck up some kind of a waltz. And that wasn't Michael. It just. . . wasn't.

  She was doing this to him.

  As I looked around, I saw it on the faces of the guys who'd been hovering around her earlier—a kind of lost longing, as if she was the only girl in the world. I even saw it on the faces of guys I would have sworn knew better, like Richard Morrell.

  It was creepy, to the power of actively sinister.

  Claire put her arm around me. "Hey," she said softly. "Are you okay?"

  I was, surprisingly. "That bitch is going down," I said. "She is not taking my boyfriend for a party favor."

  "Chill, she's just dancing with him," Shane said. He was watching Gloriana with that same eerie, distracted concentration, and now Claire noticed it, too, with appropriate levels of alarm.

  "No, she's not," Claire said, and smacked his arm. "Hey!"

  "Oh, sorry," Shane said, and then looked around. "Right. Michael, not a party favor . . . How exactly are we going to accomplish that? Because she's wearing him like a paper hat right now."

  I marched right over to the receiving line, grabbed Oliver's hand, and said, "Dance with me."

  He gave me a long, odd look, exchanged a glance with Amelie, who seemed amused, and finally said, "If you insist."

  "I do," I said. "Come on."

  In my heels, I was almost a match for Oliver in height. The last thing I wanted to be doing was clutching his undead body and twirling around on the dance floor, but I needed to keep Gloriana in sight, and I needed information. Oliver was a two-in-one.

  And surprisingly, my vampire boss could dance. Like, reality-show-winning dancing. He whirled me around like an expert, and all I needed to do was pay attention and relax. That was a lot more fun than it should have been.

  "Now," he said, about a minute or so into the ballroom display, "what exactly do you want from me?"

  "Gloriana," I said, a little breathlessly. "I need to know what her deal is. Now."

  Oliver glanced over at Gloriana, who was clinging to my boyfriend like red moss on a tree. Michael looked dazed. She looked delighted. "Ah," he said. "Gloriana doesn't like to be alone. I think she's decided that Michael is her newest accessory."

  "He didn't want to go," I said. "She did something to him. I saw it. Some kind of . . . vampire superpower."

  "Glamour," he said. "Most vampires have it, to some extent, though we rarely bother to use it. Gloriana is one of the few that has it in strength, and can use it on her own kind."

  "Not cool."

  "Not illegal," he corrected. "She'll tire of him soon enough, in a year or two. My advice is to let her have him, rather than risk becoming her enemy. He'll come back to you. Perhaps a bit worse for wear, but—"

  "No," I said. My cheeks felt like they were flaming under the pale makeup. "No way in hell. He is my boyfriend, and she doesn't get to play with him. It'd be different if he wanted it, but he doesn't."

  Oliver gave me a dark, pitying smile and bent me over backward. "Are you absolutely sure of that?" he asked. "Because Gloriana can only work that kind of glamour on those who are open to it. Michael's a new vampire. He's never been with one of us. I'm sure he has . . . questions."

  He did. He'd told me that, straight up, and now it scared me. "I'm sure," I said. My eyes filled with tears. "But he can't just. . . take off with her. He loves me."

  Oliver let me up—or rather, snapped me back uprig
ht— and glided me backwards through a complicated set of twirls. "I'm afraid that love is rarely that simple," he said. "Or that painless. Ah, look, they're leaving."

  I caught my breath on a cry and pulled free of him, or tried to; he held on long enough to say, "Don't get into the middle of it, Eve. The pull's strong. Michael may not be able to resist no matter what you do." He smiled, a little sadly. "You may take that from one who knows."

  I yanked my wrist free, gathered up my train, and dashed out of the door after Gloriana and Michael.

  * * * *

  This was the moment when I had a choice to make. I knew what I wanted to do . .. scream, cry, start a slap-fight with the undead skank trying to take my boyfriend. But somehow, I knew that fighting for Michael that way would only make me look small, petty, and ugly beside Gloriana's mature poise.

  I didn't know what the alternative was, but I was going to have to find it, fast.

  They were halfway down the steps when I caught up. The light out here was mostly provided by the white ghostly moon, and they looked identically pale as they turned to look at me as I rushed down toward them. "Michael!" I gasped, coming to a halt one step above them. "Michael, please wait!"

  Gloriana smiled at me, still maddeningly sweet. I'd been talking to him, but she was the one who answered me. "Oh, don't worry, I'll bring him back," she said. "If he wants to return."

  "Go back, Eve," Michael said. "I'll see you later."

  "You mean, you'll dump me later?" I felt short of breath. Suffocating. "No. If you want to break up, be a man. Do it now, to my face."

  "I don't want to hurt you," he said, and I believed that. I could see it on his face. "I can't do this right now, all right? Just go home. I'm not—"

  "Not yourself? Yeah, that's because she's leading you around by the—by the nose! Please, listen! I love you. I know you don't want to do this to me. Or to yourself."

  Gloriana wasn't smiling anymore. I could feel the waves of pressure coming off of her, closing around Michael. She was working hard at this, I realized. Harder than she'd expected. I might have taken some satisfaction in that, except I was terrified that all her effort might actually be enough. "Michael," she said. "Tell her to go away and go back to her friends. She's just a child. You need someone . . . more experienced. Someone who understands what you want, what you need, and isn't afraid to help you through this . . . difficult time."

  He didn't say anything. That, in itself, was a victory, but I could see him shaking again, very lightly. Vibrating, really. When she laid her gloved fingers on his hand, I saw his lips part in a soundless gasp.

  "No," I said, and took a step down, putting myself on the same level with him. I knocked her hand away, wrapped my arms around him. "No, I'm not going anywhere. You've got a room full of candidates back there. You don't get him, not unless you go through me first."

  Gloriana backed off, frowning. God, even her frowns were adorable, though the anger brewing in her eyes wasn't so precious. I'd surprised her, all right. And now she was starting to realize that she might not be able to hijack Michael the way she'd planned . . . and she wasn't pleased. Not at all.

  Michael stopped shaking, and I felt him relax against me. Sweet relief. His head came down on my shoulder, and I turned my head to glare at the other vampire. She was expressionless now, not smiling, not laughing, not exuding charm. She looked like a wax doll, and not a particularly pretty one, at that.

  "Is that how it's going to be?" she asked.

  Michael pulled in a breath and said, "I'm with Eve." Just that. Just three words, but they made me feel faint with relief and love.

  I didn't let go of him.

  Gloriana slowly, reluctantly, smiled, and the prettiness came back. "I apologize," she said. "My mistake, of course. I didn't think you were serious about her, or that she'd be so . . forceful. I misjudged you both." She put her palms together and bowed—mockingly, I was almost sure. "I'm sure we'll see each other again, Michael. Eve."

  He didn't answer her. He was frighteningly quiet, I thought. Gloriana looked up, toward the top of the steps, and I saw her face momentarily change into something that was very, very ugly.

  Amelie was standing up there, shining in the moonlight, radiantly silver. Beautiful in a way that Gloriana would never be, for all her charm and good looks.

  "Come back to the party," Amelie said. "Your swains are missing you, Glory. I'm sure you wouldn't want to be responsible for any more broken hearts tonight."

  She turned and walked away, and I heard Gloriana make a light hissing sound, almost like a snake. She gave Michael one last, sidelong look, and then I felt something . . . snap, as if pressure had broken around us.

  As she walked away, Michael tightened his arms around me, almost lifting me off my feet, and whispered, "God, Eve . . . God, I'm so sorry." He was shaken, and he sounded angry—not at me, but at himself. "I couldn't stop myself. It was like being ... It was like a dream. But I didn't want to wake up, either."

  "Oliver called it glamour," I said. "I can't feel it, though."

  "No, not unless she wants you to. She's . . . narcotic. It's terrible, but it. . . feels so good."

  I closed my eyes for a moment and strangled my inner drama queen before I said, very carefully, "Michael, if you really . . . need her . . ."

  Michael Glass raised his head. The moonlight was shining full on his face, and I could read everything there, all the conflict and the love and the desperation. "I want you," he said. "I want to stay with you. I love you. God, Eve, I love you."

  The intensity of the way he said it made my heart lurch painfully. I wanted to cry in relief, but I managed to hold the tears back. "Then don't do that again," I said. "Promise."

  "No," he said. "You promise me something."

  I blinked. "I. . . promise never to dance with Oliver again?"

  He didn't laugh. "Promise me you'll marry me," he said. "Promise me that you're not going to leave me. I need you, Eve, I've always needed you and I always will. Please. Promise me."

  I wasn't sure I'd heard him right, not at first. Marry. It wasn't that I hadn't thought about it, dreamed about it, but . . . hearing him say it, right out loud, that was . . . terrifying. And thrilling. And terrifying, again.

  I didn't know what to say, except, finally, "Yes." It came out a whisper, timid and slow, but it seemed to ring like a bell on the still air. I said it again, stronger. "Yes. Oh, God, yes."

  He kissed me. It wasn't his normal kind of sweet, gentle kiss—this was full of the same intensity, the same desperate focus. All of a sudden, I wanted him in all kinds of ways, with identical ferocity. He was growling a little, in the back of his throat, and sliding his hands down my arms.

  Then he picked me up and carried me down the steps, into the shadows. It was wild, and crazy, and stupid, but neither of us cared just then; we just needed.

  And as always, that critical moment came, when his teeth grazed my neck. I thought about Gloriana, about that need inside him she'd used against him. I thought about all my long-held vows to myself, and weighed all that against how much I loved him.

  I put my hand on his cheek. "Michael." He licked my skin, just above the veins. "Michael, do it. Go ahead."

  For a second he didn't move, and then he slowly pulled away and looked down at me. I couldn't read his expression. "You're sure," he said. "You're really sure."

  "I'm sure. Just, you know, don't—" Kill me, I thought. My heartbeat was thumping so fast it sounded like war drums. "I don't want to be turned. You know that."

  "I know," he said, very softly. "One more time. You're sure."

  "Yes." This time, I heard certainty in my own voice, and a kind of peace settled over me. "Yes."

  I can't remember what it felt like, not really; it was overwhelming, and scary, and wonderful, and so, so much better than I'd ever imagined. He licked the wound gently, until the bleeding stopped, and then gently kissed it. I felt dizzy and woozy and unbelievably high—vampire bites can do that, if they do it right. If th
ey take the time. Or so I'd heard.

  I sank against Michael's chest, and he held me. "Okay?" he whispered. I made a wordless sound of pleasure and snuggled in against him. He smiled. "Thank you."

  I laughed. "It wasn't a gift, Michael."

  He kissed my nose. "No," he agreed. "But you are. I don't know what I'd be without you, Eve. But I don't want to find out."

  "Not even if Gloriana comes calling?"

  "Especially if Gloriana comes calling," he said, very seriously. "You were amazing, by the way. You made her look ..."

  "Cheap?" I said cheerfully.

  "Immature," he said, and kissed my hand. "You looked like the sexiest woman in the world."