Free Inferno by Bianca D'Arc Page A

powerful vampires in the metro area, that was saying something.

    Dante and Heathclif began talking of things Megan had no knowledge of—people they both knew and reminiscences of the past. She tried to listen, but much of it went over her head. She became uncomfortably aware of the Mistress’s regard. The other woman was looking her up and down as if deciding what to make of her. Megan didn’t enjoy the once over. She’d been getting the same look—only more pronounced—since she entered the hall.

    “Are you a student of the martial arts, Megan?” the Mistress asked seemingly out of the blue.

    Caught off guard, Megan nodded. “I believe most weres find the study of martial arts both soothing and useful. The discipline helps us focus our inner beast, and the skills are always useful whether in the hunt or in self-defense.”

    “And when you are in the dojo, what color graces your waist?” the Mistress asked with a coy smile.

    Megan squirmed a bit, not used to giving out personal information of any kind. “Black.” The Mistress grinned widely, her exotic eyes lighting with excitement. “Which discipline do you prefer?”

    “Kung fu, actually.”

    She laughed. “I should have known. Animal forms would be second nature to one of your kind.”

    “I’ve studied jiu-jitsu as well, and a little iado.”

    “Sword study is a noble discipline, Megan. I’d welcome a chance to spar with you sometime.
    Perhaps tomorrow while my father is talking business with Dante, we can spend a few minutes in the dojo.”

    “I’d like that.”

    She wasn’t sure what she’d just agreed to but hoped the Mistress meant her invitation at face value. This was a woman Megan would be a fool to anger.

    After that little aside, the men included the women in their conversation again, talking about the excellent musicians the Deans had managed to hire for this party. To her surprise, they talked about other performers, from rock stars to opera companies, that had either played at or been booked to play at future vampire get-togethers. It seemed these immortals liked to party.

    Or perhaps the Deans hosted such events in order to keep an eye on their people. Dante had spoken of tonight’s invitation as a summons. Maybe the Deans liked to dress up their public audiences in the form of parties. It made sense. People were less inclined to start trouble at a festive event and more likely to attend, even if they understood there was an ulterior motive.

    Sort of like a business conference. You went for the food and freebies and tried not to mind the sales pitches that happened along the way. Very clever indeed of the vampires to use that old stratagem. Then again, they might’ve been the ones to come up with it in the first place.

    “Shall we dance?” Sir Heathclif’s cultured tones shook her out of her internal musings.

    He offered his hand to Megan and it was nearly impossible to say no to the command in his powerful voice. Still, something made her look over at Dante. She wasn’t seeking his permission exactly. It was more like a quick check on whether he thought it would be safe for her to go off with this strange man. After all, Dante knew more about these people than she did. The very idea that she would instinctively trust her safety to Dante’s judgment was something to ponder at another time.

    “I’ve never waltzed before tonight, Mr. Dean,” she said, hoping to find some reason to decline.
    The hard expression on Dante’s face and his narrowed eyes made her want to say no, though the independent lone wolf inside her balked at any restriction.

    “Please, call me Heath. I saw you dancing beautifully with d’Angleterre. All that native agility and grace makes you a natural for dancing, my dear. Please, allow me the honor of partnering you.”

    Once again he held out his hand, and she had no choice but to accept. Heathclif Dean hadn’t become one of the most powerful vampires in the country overnight. He’d