Theophilus bows his head. "With all due respect, consider bidding tonight. Some of the shifters agree to the auction, but put up delicious resistance after they're bought. Subduing them provides months of entertainment, if you draw it out."
"Months? You surprise me, Theophilus," I drawl, baiting him. "With patience, an expert can enjoy a victim for years."
He flushes. "These shifters will not last years. You can't turn them, after all."
"As you say," I pretend to agree. "I suppose the shine wears off after a few weeks. Months, if the victim is special."
"Shifters are stronger than humans, but no one can withstand a vampire. They all break, in the end."
"Yes," I turn my attention back to the stage. "Everyone breaks in the end." Even vampires.
Minutes pass and I pretend not to notice the audience members studying me. I steeple my fingers. Tonight I will sit through the auction, feigning interest. In a month I will host a party with a select number of my lieutenants. By then I'll know which of my sired plotted against me. I already have an idea.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. The final part of the auction is about to begin."
The house lights go down and a ripple of anticipation runs around the room. The curtain parts.
And she appears.
Selene
"LOT NINE, SPECIAL GOODS," the auctioneer announces.
I stand on the small platform, staring into an ocean of white light. The spotlights blind me before I remember to lower my gaze to the floor. I'm supposed to be submissive. A perfect little pet for a vampire.
"Female, wolf shifter, twenty-two. She has been trained in the submissive arts but…" the auctioneer pauses and lowers his voice. "She's never been blooded. Never been mounted either. That's right ladies and gentle vampires… she's a virgin."
Do I imagine an excited murmur in the rows beyond the lights? My training kicks in and smooths my features before my lip curls in disgust.
"Turn around, sweetheart, give us a show," the auctioneer orders.
I pivot dutifully, returning to my resting stance. I bow my head a little.
"Bidding starts at one hundred thousand," the auctioneer calls. "One hundred thousand for this pure, untouched virgin. Do I have one hundred-yes, there in the back. Gentleman in the red bowtie. Anyone else want to own this fine specimen of shifter beauty? Can I get two-" The bidding goes higher, spurred by the auctioneer's excited prattle. I squint into the lights. How many people are in the audience? Ten? Twenty? A hundred? Somewhere, perhaps in the balcony, Xavier watches.
It doesn't matter. I'm only here for one vampire, and one alone. Lucius Frangelico. I need to capture his interest.
I drop my gaze to the stage and try to look meek. What will entice a vampire king to bid on me? I lick my red lips, but can't bring myself to take a sultry pose. Not when I want to punch someone for subjecting shifters to this disgusting event.
My fists itch to clench. I force my shoulders to relax.
This will be over soon.
Lucius
SHE'S NOT SUBMISSIVE.
That's my first impression of the beautiful she-wolf. She glares at the floor in front of her bare feet. Whenever the auctioneer mentions her virginal status, the corner of her mouth twitches. They dressed her in a soft bit of nothing, a garment closer to a negligee than evening wear. Something silky that begs to be ripped off. She has bruises on her arms-a sign she's been manhandled-but nothing about her is fragile. She's tall, tempting, an Amazon with a crown of white gold hair.
Something about her is familiar. She raises her head and shoots a glare into every corner of the theater, and the memory is lost. My body responds, blood rushing to my groin. What would it be like to own such a creature? To tame and master her?
I school my expression into one of boredom. The she-wolf tempts me, that's all. Something new and amusing to divert my attention for a time. Immortality reduces everything-pleasure and pain-into a temporary diversion. But this she-wolf might make me forget that for a little while.
On top of that, she looks like someone I once knew...
On stage, she licks her painted lips. My slacks grow tighter and my hands knot into fists. My bidding number rests on the floor next to my shoe. Dante must have left it there.
I won't bid tonight. But it is so tempting.
In the row in front of me, Theophilus clears his throat. "See what I mean, Sire?"
"Yes." I lean forward to study the she-wolf again. "I do."
Selene
"FIVE HUNRET, five hunret, can I get five hunret-" the auctioneer bleats as the auction runs out of steam. He pauses and scratches his chin. "No? Perhaps you need more incentive."
He waves to someone offstage and three beefy stagehands march straight towards me.
"What?" I mouth to the auctioneer, but he props elbow on the podium, settling in to watch. The first man reaches me and tugs at my dress' strap.
"Time to get naked, sweetheart."
My hand flies up before I can stop it. I push Mouthbreather Number One away from me as his two buddies arrive and clamp down on my arms, right on top of the bruises Xavier left.
"Bitch," Number One mutters. His beefy hand grabs the straps crossing over my back and tears them away. The garment sags, baring my breasts right as I get one arm free. My training kicks in. I lean left and kick the man on my right in the crotch. He goes down and I jerk, bringing the man on my left off balance. I smash my fist into his face and flip him over my back. He crashes into Number One. I crouch in a fighter's stance in the center of three downed thugs.
The auctioneer is laughing.