Free Bloodwitch by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

striking me, and revealed a horrified-looking young woman in a long black dress. The gown was basic, practical, unlike the beautiful garments—works of art in their own right—that Lady Brina liked to wear. Around her throat was a simple black-leather band, perhaps an inch wide, fastened at the back.
    In her hand was a small brass key.
    “I’m sorry, sir,” she said, ducking in a curtsy, her gaze on the floor as if she were afraid to look at me.
    “It’s … fine,” I answered. She hadn’t actually hit me. “What’s your name?”
    “Rose, sir,” she replied in the same soft, deferential tones. “Master Taro wishes your presence. I am instructed to show you to him.” She stepped back, opening the way to the hall beyond. “This way, sir.”
    As I followed her, a question came to mind. “Why are you calling me sir?”
    Slaves in Lady Brina’s manor had called Taro that, but never me.
    “I’m sorry.” Her gaze dropped again and her shoulders rounded, hunching in like those of an animal afraid of a blow. “Is there a different title you prefer?”
    “No,” I answered. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her she could use my name, but what did I know of this place? Titles were a serious matter. I didn’t want to get her in trouble if she knew something I didn’t. “Sir is fine.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    I shook my head and tried to dispel my sense of unease. I was used to the idea of humans working for vampires and even assisting me as part of their duties, but Lady Brina’s slaves had never shown me this level of deference.
    Wherever I was now, the rules had changed.

ROSE LED ME down a stone hallway decorated with elaborate murals. Carved hunting cats stalked in and out of wood paneling, above which the walls had been transformed into a fresco continuing the theme in shades of red, gold, and silver. Iron candelabra holding snow-white candles lit the hall, revealing unique carvings on every door and knob we passed. The entire
building
was art, down to the carpets beneath my feet.
    We passed a half-dozen more doors, all closed, before the hallway ended and we were forced to turn left through an open archway. A guard stood by the doorway, but he nodded as Rose and I approached, granting wordless permission for us to pass.
    Farther down this next hall, two men were speaking in low tones. I could sense that they were vampires, butneither looked familiar. I started to approach, curious, but paused as Rose sank to the ground a respectful distance away.
    I didn’t know
who
these men were, but I knew
what
they were, which meant Rose was right—we were supposed to show respect. Taro had given me permission not to kneel for him, and Lady Brina usually couldn’t be bothered, but these two vampires were strangers. I watched them as discreetly as I could with my knees on the floor and my head bowed.
    “I have to ask how you expect to break someone who can in fact boil your blood with a touch,” one of the men was saying with a shake of his head. His skin was as dark as Taro’s, but he was leaner, with black hair.
    “The trick is not to let them touch you,” answered the other man, whose long, dark hair reminded me of my own. Unlike his companion, whose jacket was as well cut as many of Lord Daryl’s, the second man was dressed informally, in trousers and an unstarched shirt of such a deep russet that it was nearly black.
    “We have company, Nathaniel.” The second man turned to look in my direction, and his black gaze met mine, triggering the back-of-the-neck shiver that always alerted me to the presence of their kind.
    “Be good, Jaguar,” Nathaniel warned.
    “I know the rules,” Jaguar replied as he walked toward me.
    Jaguar’s Celeste
. Mistress Jeshickah had referred to another quetzal who lived among vampires. I now realized she might be very near. I would love to meet her. Maybe she could be a friend, unlike the Azteca from the marketplace, who had hated me as soon as they found out who I