The romanoff

One

1799

Crashing a party had a beautifully destructieve ring to is, but Natalia found the reality a disappointment. It had been too easy to get invited, and steve's constant reminders that violence was prohibited turned out to be entirely unnecessary. All that awaited them inside the villa was an ordinary party. Witches and werewolves drank and danced with their own kind, each casting occasional disdainful looks at members of the other clan. The ballroom was stuffy, and the human servers moved numbly through the crowd, controlled by some sort of spell that made them just as dull as everything else. Natalia couldn't figure out why her brother had been so eager to attend this event, but steve's reasoning was often unsound.

A doe-eyed young woman handed him a glass of champagne, and  Natalia tasted it gamely. It was probably of very high quality, but it made no real impression on her. She was, after all, hardly the best judge of beverages served in polite company. 'Wait,' she called, and the young woman turned obediently, a tray of glasses still balanced on one hand. Natalia stepped closer to her, taking in the honey glint of her hair and the gentle throb of the pulse in her throat. 'I need some air.' She  improvised. 'Can you show me to the garden?"

The human girl hesitated for a moment, her lips parted as if she knew she was supposed to refuse, yet couldn't. She put down her tray, and Natalia followed her to the edge of the glittering ballroom. She caught her before the door had fully closed behind them, her eyes adjusting immediately to the darkness of the garden. Her right hand curled around her mouth, muffling any sound that might escape, while her left hand brushed her hair away from the skin of her throat. She felt her teeth extend and sharpen as she stared at her smooth neck. Her fangs reached for her pulse, tore into her throat and locked it in place while her hot blood flowed into her mouth.

Nat's mind had already begun to wander by the time her heartbeat grew faint. Her eyes roved the moonlit garden, looking for hiding places. The minute the serving girl was dead she  carried her to a honeysuckle-covered wall and concealed her among the clinging vines. Natalia didn't bother to inspect her work too carefully. Leaving the boring party for a boring kill had unexpectedly made her feel even more out of sorts.

She slipped back through the carved double doors, struck for a moment by the light and music inside. Her return went almost entirely unnoticed, but not quite. The glow of a dozen chandeliers glinted off a pile of perfect blonde curls, and a pair of serious brown/green eyes was fixed on her face.

Yelena must have been spying for Steve and catering to his tiresome obsession with 'fitting in'. Making sure the wayward half sister didn't do anything to endanger their brilliant plans.

Together, the three Original vampires could have taken ownership of this fledgling city in a heartbeat, making it a fortress against the enemy that hunted them. Instead, they had spent nine long years cowering in dark corners, feeding only when necessary and ingratiating themselves with the locals. Natalia had agreed to it all for the time being, but she couldn't be expected to forgo all entertainment while bending to Steve's schemes.

She turned away from her sister in disgust, only to see that she was being watched by someone else. The girl staring her way was one of the witches, she thought, although she was almost sure he had noticed her dancing with a lanky werewolf earlier. A lovely young witch who wain't afraid to stray from her own kind? That might be enjoyable and could even redeem this dreadful party With her brown hair, porcelain skin and intensely green eyes she could almost have been a vampire, but Natalia knew that the spells that filled her pretty head were nothing compared to her power.

Natalia imagined splitting the white skin of her throat; she could hear her begging her to. She could be the last woman to soak up the light that seemed to radiate from her before putting it out forever.