Chapter Fourteen
"Your room, Councilman Rivera," the butler announced, opening the wide French doors of the suite and standing back to allow Damali and Carlos to proceed ahead of him. He motioned for the henchman to bring in their luggage, and addressed the maids. "Let there be nothing that our honored guests call for that hasn't been supplied." He turned to Damali and Carlos. "Pull the bell tapestry, and they will be at your service."
The ebullient manservant waited as Carlos perused the villa-sized suite. A small Greek-styled fountain running blood with a Grecian stone love seat surrounding it was the focal point in the outer room. A long marble bar was to the left, and was filled with the black private-label bottles that he'd come to know by now contained blood. Tuscany-designed stools faced it, and just beyond the bar, two Egyptian carved stone doors opened out to a castle terrace. To his right was an overstuffed Louis the XIX - style sofa and matching chair upholstered in burgundy satin, with an armoire and German writing desk beside it. Just beyond the fountain was a long, eighteenth-century, plantation-style banquet table with full linen, ornate candelabra, and two high-back, midnight blue silk upholstered chairs.
The spoils of war, Carlos thought to himself, as he checked the ornate stone doors that led to the terrace, coming away satisfied that the light seal on the room was adequate.
"Shall I turn down your bed for you before dawn?" the servant asked, his voice rich and inviting.
"No," Carlos said as he walked toward the bedroom, holding Damali's elbow, "but I do want to appraise the seal in there."
The butler nodded and followed the couple through the inner-room, double-steel doors that were engraved with Hell's crest, down five steps into the sunken inter sanctum. He pulled heavy burgundy drapes away from the terrace's vault doors and stood back as Carlos inspected the room.
Fully keening his senses to detect a possible threat, Carlos spun the heavy gold-plated airlock mechanism that allowed him to pass out of the room and onto the terrace through one ton of banker's steel. He glanced back toward Damali and addressed the butler.
"Can my wife close these easily?" he asked, not waiting for an answer as he strolled out to the terrace and glanced down the two hundred foot cliff-side decent into thunderous surf.
"To be sure, Councilman," the butler replied. "These have been balanced to Masonic-level specifications."
Carlos nodded, satisfied, and snapped his fingers to call his dogs. "I want one on the terrace and one posted outside in the hallway at all times - and only I feed them."
The butler again nodded, the small retinue of staff watching Carlos's every move, occasionally glancing at Damali. Carlos scanned the steepled ceiling over the bed, his eyes narrowing to be sure there was no light source that could cook them both at dawn, then his gaze slowly roved over the cr
352;me and burgundy raw silk wallpaper to ensure there were no hidden panels or secret doors that could be opened. He nodded to the butler to pull back the drapes surrounding the bed that sat in the middle of the floor fully curtained by thick Turkish tapestries, his gaze scanning the lush Moorish textiles on the double-wide king-sized bed.
His eyes took their time sliding over the exquisite Egyptian cottons, raw silks from Asia, and burgundy goose-down duvet. The bed sat up high on a three-foot solid marble pedestal, but after assessing it, he nodded. He just needed to first be sure that there was no portal beneath the bed.
The huge French armoire, antique dresser, and ladies vanity sans mirror checked out. But the bathroom could pose unimaginable risks. He and the butler shared a knowing glance, and one of the maids came to Carlos's side. He leaned in to her throat and caught her scent as her eyes slid shut. He could feel her near ready to arch into his hold. Definitely vamp. She'd do.
"Would you mind turning on the water sources for me?" he murmured to her, giving Damali a glance to be cool and remain steady.
"As you like, sir," the female vamp said, her voice husky as she left his side, beckoning him with her eyes to follow her.
All burgundy marble surrounded them, gold fixtures looming out from the oversized, kidney-shaped Jacuzzi canopied by sheers. The maid ran the tap, and dipped her fingers in the thick spray as it gurgled loudly to demonstrate that no holy water sabotage had been committed, smiling when the tension left Carlos's body. Then she switched another lever so that pure blood ran into the tub, then pulled her hand back and licked her fingers. She then went to the double sink across the room and performed the same test, even testing the commode and bidet for him.
Upon his nod, the maid sauntered past Damali at the door and stood by the butler, her appraisal of Carlos nearly a challenge to the first lady.
"Thank you," Carlos finally said. "Everything appears to be in order."
"Do summon us, sir, should you or your lovely wife require anything before dawn."
Damali watched the staff back out of the main vault door, and then hastily exit the suite. She moved like someone punch-drunk
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