“Always so suspicious and eager to distrust those around you,” said Magda, shaking her head sadly before shooting me a smug smirk. Working those hips, she waltzed away. Oh I could kill that bitch happily if I didn’t know it would put Jared through absolute agony.

He turned to me. “What do we do now?”

“I agree with you, she’s up to something, but I don’t know what. So we wait.”

“I’m sick of waiting.”

I knew what he meant but was afraid to say aloud – he was sick of waiting for whatever changes were happening to me to finally take shape. “So am I, but what else can we do?” Nothing, there was nothing.


Sam was draped over me when I woke up after a restless sleep. Unable to resist touching her, I ran my hand along the length of her spine. My hand then crept lower and cupped her ass. I knew that fondling a sleeping person was a little low, but in my defence, it was the most luscious ass. I smiled as I recalled biting it. My smile widened as I remembered promising her I was going to f**k that ass one night, and she’d responded with, ‘You’d never catch my arse to f**k it’. She was probably right.

Then it all hit me. Reality hit me. Our problems hit me.

Those precious seconds I had each evening when I first woke up, thinking about nothing but the woman in my arms, were the best. For those few seconds, nothing was on my mind but her. Everything felt as normal as it usually was. For those few seconds, I forgot that we had more issues than we knew what to do with.

Feeling her stir, I tightened my arms around her. “Hey, sleep well?”

“I feel like I only shut my eyes ten minutes ago,” she mumbled against my chest.

I sighed. “I know what you mean.”

“Do you think we’ll hear from Ryder tonight?”

“I’m more worried about if Magda’s blabbed yet.”

“Maybe she’s telling the truth and she won’t say anything.”

I snorted. “Do you really believe that?”

“No, but a girl can dream.”

After we had both drank some NSTs, I followed her into the shower, where I took her hard like the good fiancé that I was. Hey, I’d take her slow if she didn’t always bitch at me to go faster.

After a few hours in our office, taking care of a couple of minor issues, we headed for the huge training arena for the evening’s entertainment; a gladiator-style dinner show. It was tradition that three of the High Masters would each pit five of their best legion members against the others in a series of events. It was usually pretty entertaining, so I was looking forward to it. I knew Sam was equally eager – anything with a little violence tended to keep her interested.

Inside, most of the guests were already seated, nibbling on the appetisers that had been laid out on the long counter-style tables. For the purpose of the show’s theme, the seating had been divided into four sections. One section was for Rowan’s bloodline as five members of his legion were partaking in the challenge. The second section was for Ricardo’s bloodline since his legion was also involved. The third section was for Bran’s bloodline, who usually won. And the fourth section was for all neutral parties.

Our particular seats were on the middle tier of the neutral section, giving us an excellent view. Seated closest to us were Evan, Antonio, Luther, Wes, Lena, Fletcher, and Norm.

Fletcher leaned in. “Widow Twankey’s sitting on Rowan’s side, next to Marcia. Have you noticed?”

“He’s talking about Magda,” explained Sam, having sensed my confusion.

“Maybe we’ve finally succeeded in alienating her.” Fletcher looked utterly delighted. “The paint pellets most likely helped with that.”

“And the chopstick incident,” said Norm, laughing.

Yeah, and that was what worried me. The last thing we needed was that woman to be extremely pissed off. But apparently news of Sam’s attempt at taking out Magda’s eye had gone around like wildfire…and everyone thought it was hilarious. And that Sam was a lunatic.

Magda wouldn’t exactly be happy to be the subject of a joke. Although…she looked quite happy right now. Excited, even.

Not willing to give that woman the satisfaction of ruining the evening for me with her ‘let’s keep them on eggshells game’ – honestly, what other game could it possibly be? – I switched my focus back to Sam. I kept that focus mostly on her as we watched the show. The first event, like the remaining seven, tested the strength and physical endurance of the contenders.

As I’d anticipated, Bran’s legion seemed to be the obvious winners right from the beginning, though Ricardo’s contenders weren’t too far behind in terms of points. Considering Bran was, for all intents and purposes, my uncle, I was obviously supporting him.

Not that I’d give my support to the other two bastards. I had to admit that I was really enjoying watching their faces turn various shades of purple each time their legion members lost at an event. Of course, I cheered along for Bran’s vampires with everyone else, gloating a little. I didn’t even care if that was petty. These guys had snubbed my fiancée, so f**k ’em.

After the eighth event, Rowan’s legion was eliminated from the challenge due to having the lowest amount of points. Out of Bran’s five contenders, the one in the fittest shape was selected to go against one of Ricardo’s vampires in the final, eliminating, challenge: a duel. Whichever side won the duel would win the overall contest.

Both vampires had impressive gifts, and the duel was filled with explosions, fire, bright lights, smoke, and rain. When Bran’s vampire won, cheers from both his section and our section filled the arena.

Only then was dessert finally served – the most amazing chocolate and caramel sundae, which I spoon-fed to a laughing Sam. Maybe that was why I hadn’t noticed Magda making her way down to the centre of the arena until she clapped to gain everybody’s attention.

Fletcher groaned. “Oh what’s that mental heifer doing now?”

“In honour of this tradition, I propose there be a friendly challenge between a guest and someone from the host’s side. Yes, ordinarily the hosts are left to be the hosts. But why not have a tiny duel to top the evening off? I would like to challenge…Miss Samantha Parker, the Heir’s fiancée.”


Oh joy. I heard all the mutterings and gasps around me, but I didn’t move my eyes from Magda. “So this is why she hasn’t told anyone. She planned to challenge me, knowing I couldn’t properly defend myself.” If she had told people that I was weak, they wouldn’t have counted her win as a genuine one. “Bollocks.”

Tags: Suzanne Wright Deep In Your Veins Vampires
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