Vivian eyed Catrina for a while, her gaze alert yet restless.
She wasn't used to feeling… unsettled. Yet something about the insanely attractive woman before her tugged at a place she usually preferred locked away. She took a slow breath, masking the flutter in her chest with cool command.
"What's your name?" she asked, her voice evenly paced.
"Catrina," came the soft reply. "I've been looking for you, Vivian the Rose."
Vivian's eyes narrowed slightly. Her fingers curled in the folds of her coat.
"You've… been looking for me?" she repeated. "That's a dangerous thing to say in this city."
Catrina looked around her with growing concern. "I just need a moment of your time."
Vivian stared at her for a beat too long. Her thoughts tangled—danger, control, attraction, effortless seduction—and she didn't like it. Not one bit.
"…You'll be my guest," she said finally, her tone sharper than intended, as if trying to reassert control over the conversation—and herself. "Guards, escort her to my hotel. I'll… speak with her later."
Catrina got terrified. "Is this a kidnapping?"
Vivian's lips twitched, and for a moment guilt tried rising up within her. That was a feeling she hadn't known in years.
"You ask too many questions," she murmured, stepping closer, just enough to unsettle the saintess. "That's bad girl behavior."
Catrina gasped and sniffled for a second of fright. That was enough to nearly drive an orgasm through Vivian's senses.
She turned sharply then, redirecting her attention to the three guards who'd been fawning over Catrina earlier. They straightened immediately as she approached.
"What are your names?" Vivian asked, her tone demanding.
The short, pretty one stepped forward. "Talia, ma'am."
"Elizabeth," said the second.
The third one blushed as she wiped her nose again. "A-Anice."
Vivian nodded, making an effort to memorize their names. "Good. You three will personally escort the Saintess. Though I have pressing matters to attend to, something about her fascinates me."
She turned, started to walk away—then stopped.
Vivian looked back at Catrina once more, her eyes lingering longer than she meant them to. A slow smile curved her lips and as it spread, the familiar glint of vampire fangs peeked from beneath.
The flash was brief, but deliberate for Catrina to see.
And yet, for all her power, all her control, a maddening urge stirred inside her—a craving for touch and intimacy. Vivian's carefully stacked priorities began to unravel, slipping through her mental grip like silk through fingers.
She shouldn't be thinking like this. There were meetings with nobles to attend, negotiations with the witches to handle, old debts to settle with some elves. But all she could think about was how soft Catrina's lips looked.
Vivian's gaze shifted to the three guards, and a flicker of possessiveness flared in her chest. Jealousy. They'd been eyeing Catrina from the start—one of them had even nose bled just from seeing the saintess.
With a reluctant final breath, Vivian turned and walked away, vowing to wrap up her business as fast as feasibly possible.