Devyn straightened, smoothed his suit. "Yes, no reason for upset on my part. I've seen your moves. You need a bit more practice before you're ready for a tigress like Bride. And please, don't take offense. It's not an insult if it's true."
A muscle ticked below McKells eyes as red bled into his irises. "Once we've weaned her off your blood, she will never again be able to see you. Never again be able to cross your path. What think you of that?"
"I think you need therapy, poor man." Devyn patted the top of McKell's head. "Such delusions are probably dangerous."
To have someone else's blood meant she wouldn't be able to see Devyn ever again? Was McKell just taunting Devyn, or was that true?
A vein looked ready to burst in McKell's forehead.
Again Devyn wrapped his arm around her, staking his claim. "You're the one who's been trying to buy her off the streets, yes?"
McKell gave a stiff nod. "You'll find that when it comes to my female, I will do anything to get her back. Anything."
Even kill you. The threat hung in the air, unsaid, but just as menacing. Bride tried to step between them, but Devyn was having none of that. She would have wished them apart, but was too afraid of the consequences.
"Well, you should know that I'll do anything to keep her," Devyn said. Devyn wanted to keep her? That was news.
"Perhaps we should let the girl decide." McKell's attention settled on her, and his gaze softened. He reached out to smooth a strand of her hair behind her ear. Devyn batted his hand away. "No touching. Ever."
McKell popped his jaw, his attention never veering from her. "My name is Victor. McKell is merely my classification."
"Warrior classification," she said, and he nodded. "So I'm a warrior, as well? Or do vampire females take the classification of who they're promised to?"
He opened his mouth to respond, but a voice from the podium stopped him. "Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats." The overhead halogens flashed on and off. "We're about to begin, and as you can plainly see, we have a wonderful selection for you tonight."
"We'll talk," the vampire told her. "After." And with that, he gave them his back as if they were no threat at all and settled in his seat.
Devyn ushered Bride to the section of seats behind and across from the warrior. He eased into one of the plush cushion-covered folding chairs. When she attempted to do the same, he shook his head and pointed to the ground.
The twig- and dirt-laden ground? Seriously? "Sit," he barked, clearly at the end of his patience.
Eyes wide, she plopped herself at his feet. Never had she heard so much anger in his tone. Not even when he'd first proclaimed them married. He seethed with the emotion, his muscles stiff and his face like granite. Because McKell thought he had a claim on her?
Did he? She rubbed the tattoo on her wrist. Or rather, brand. She'd been given to him at birth, he'd said. That must mean marriages between vampires were arranged.
In all her imaginings, she'd never thought her people would be so archaic. But clearly they were.
What would her life have been like if she'd married McKell? She wouldn't have met Devyn, that was for sure. Or maybe she would have. He'd once gone underground. Would they have met then? Would they have circled each other, have been challenged by the other, and ultimately have given in to the attraction? At this point, she couldn't imagine not wanting him. Her desire for him was now such a big part of her life.
"This sucks," Dallas said as he settled beside Devyn, drawing her from her musings. "What if the auctioneer doesn't know who's vampire? I never got a chance to study the prisoners."
"Just follow McKell's lead." Though Devyn spoke quietly, she could still detect the fury in his voice. He wasn't calming down.
She wanted to soothe him, but didn't know how. Then, a few seconds later, the auction began, and she forgot all about him. One at a time, the people were paraded along the parapet, their robes parted, their bodies displayed for all to see. Disgust welled inside her. It was cruel. Some of the people cried and blushed, even looked away from the crowd. Some of the people stared straight ahead, as if they'd already endured far worse horrors, and being studied and critiqued was nothing.
To block the horror from her mind, she peered over at McKell. She didn't have a good view of him, but enough of one to make out his strong profile. A slightly longer than normal nose, unlined skin, dark hair a bit shaggy.
Not a bad piece of meat. Ick. Now I'm thinking like the buyers.
Devyn's palm flattened on her head, fingers digging into her scalp. "See something you like, love?"
Love. He'd never called her that before, and that he did now had her trembling. Did he mean it? Did she want him to mean it? She tore her attention away from McKell and looked up at Devyn to study him. His gaze was on the parapet. His jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed, but oh, the fire inside them was fierce.
"Now I do," she said softly, hating herself because it was the truth.
His grip loosened, and he even stroked her hair. His expression smoothed out. Calm at last. "We have much to discuss, you and I," he said.
Much to discuss. As in their parting? As in why he hadn't touched her in a week, but the moment someone else expressed an interest in her, he talked about her as if she were his favorite possession?
Anger suddenly danced through her. Was that what it took to keep Devyn's notice? Have someone else desire her? Well, she wasn't playing that game. He either wanted her or he didn't.
Just then, McKell's voice reverberated through the building. Surprised, she twisted yet again. His hand was in the air, which meant he'd just made a bid. Her attention swung to the stage. A tall, leanly muscled male with pale skin and snow-white hair stood proudly. He was one of those who refused to look away from the crowd. But he didn't simply endure. He hissed and bared his teeth, yet she didn't notice fangs.
"—stronger, faster, deadlier," the auctioneer was saying. "Word of warning, though. You'll have to be careful with him. He's a biter."
A wave of laughter rose from the crowd, sickening her further. The bidding speed increased, hands flying in the air.
"Look at these eyes," the announcer said. "Dark blue. Like sapphires. Come on, ladies. You love jewelry, you know you do. Get tired of the man, and you can wear his eyes."
"How are they holding him if he's so strong?" Bride whispered. "Drugs, perhaps," Devyn said. "Not allowing him to drink, maybe." McKell placed another bid. "Now," Devyn said to Dallas.