He had to live in a mansion with walls covered in the paintings he bought from here, never mind all the other galleries he frequented. She didn’t know what Alfred had done to make all his money, but he enjoyed spending it on art, which only made her like him more.
Aida felt the burn of Julian’s eyes against her back while watching Alfred walk away. She couldn’t turn and see him with that woman again, but she couldn’t stand there doing nothing. Meandering through the hallways, she mingled with the crowd as she made sure everyone had everything they needed.
Julian sipped his champagne while Aida moved through the crowd with ease. She hid her exhaustion well as she went from one person to another. Flushed with excitement, her skin glowed, and her eyes twinkled. She was in her element here, and he loved watching the joy she exuded.
He despised the way the men in the room watched her too. His hand clenched around his glass of champagne as their eyes followed her around the room. If it were possible for him to kill every one of them, he would.
He took a step to follow her into the hallway when the hand on his arm brought him up short. He’d forgotten all about the woman who attached herself to him shortly after he entered the gallery.
She protested when he grasped her hand and dislodged it from his arm. His inherent ability to attract partners to him was something he’d never welcomed, and he couldn’t deal with a clinger right now.
“Excuse me,” he said as he released her hand and followed Aida into the hallway. He ignored the woman’s stuttered protests as he focused on Aida and allowed her presence to calm him.
Aida stopped in front of another painting to admire the trees layered onto the canvas. She was only there for a minute before she felt Julian’s heat against her back. Her skin came alive as ripples of pleasure ran up her back. He shouldn’t be here, but she was glad he was.
“It’s interesting,” he murmured as he sipped his champagne.
She was about to ask him why he was here, but her words strangled in her throat when she turned to find his ravenous gaze on her. Many of the men at the showing wore tailored suits or sports jackets, but he’d donned a simple black sweater and a pair of blue jeans and looked lickable. His neatly trimmed, black beard added an air of mystery and dangerousness to him that some women loved.
“Your boyfriend did this?” he asked.
It took her a second to recall that Owen was kissing her when she first saw Julian. Was that only last night? So much had happened since that she’d forgotten all about it.
Then, her brow furrowed as his words sank in. He believed she would kiss him if she had a boyfriend? How could he think such a horrible thing about her?
Her teeth ground together as she turned back to the painting. She almost told him that Owen wasn’t her boyfriend, but she didn’t owe him an explanation.
“Owen painted everything in the gallery,” she said.
Julian realized she hadn’t confirmed or denied what Owen was to her. He should have asked her outright, but he was afraid of the answer. He didn’t think she would kiss him if she were dating someone else, and he knew she wouldn’t if she loved Owen, but he needed to know what the man was to her.
“I’m not much of a critic,” Julian said, “but I’m impressed.”
“Hmm,” Aida murmured.
She tried to ignore the way her skin prickled when he stepped closer and his hand brushed her arm. Was the oxygen being sucked out of the room? She tugged at the collar of her dress.
“I didn’t get the chance to tell you earlier,” Julian said. “But you look beautiful tonight.”
“I look like I haven’t slept in days.”
“Even if that were true, which it isn’t, you’re still beautiful.”
“Why are you here?”
“I appreciate art.”
“Julian…” Her voice trailed off when she realized she didn’t know what to say. “I have to get back to work.”
She began to turn away, but his fingers, enclosing loosely around her wrist, halted her. His flesh burned into hers, and before she could stop herself, the fingers of her other hand encircled his wrist. When she realized what she was doing, she let him go and tugged her arm away.
“I think the blonde would like to see you again,” Aida said and nodded to where the woman stood near the end of the hall. When Julian turned toward her, the woman turned her attention to the painting in front of her.
The wicked and teasing smile he gave Aida did funny things to her insides. “I prefer girls with darker hair.”
He lifted a tendril of black hair from her shoulder and ran the silken strand through his fingers. It shone in the lights, as did her golden eyes as she watched him like he was the predator about to pounce, and he definitely felt like pouncing as he stepped closer to her.
CHAPTER 16
Feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, Aida’s heart raced as her head tipped back to take in Julian looming over her. The clatter of a tray hitting the ground jerked her back to her senses.
“I have to go.” She pulled her hair free of his grasp and hurried toward the young waitress who was muttering apologies as she tossed shrimp onto her tray.
“It’s okay,” Aida said as she knelt to help her.
She was happy her hands didn’t shake as she wiped up the cocktail sauce and finished cleaning up the mess. Needing to wash her hands, she wound her way through the crowd and into the bathroom.
For the next hour, Julian watched Aida as she made her way around the room, talking with the crowd, helping the caterers, and placing small plaques under the sold paintings. It didn’t take him long to figure out who Nicolette was as she often waved Aida over or sent her to run some errand.
And, of course, there was Owen. The man also mingled amongst the crowd, laughing with his prospective buyers or stopping to explain his work. Julian thought artists were supposed to be tortured souls who locked themselves away from the world, but Owen soaked up the attention.
Owen also grabbed Aida as often as he could. He stopped her as she was walking by with a plaque. Her smile never wavered, but her shoulders stiffened when Owen rested his hand possessively on the small of her back. A haze of red shadowed Julian’s vision until it looked as if blood coated everything.
He so badly wanted to see blood; he craved the taste of it sliding down his throat and the rush of power that came with holding someone’s life in his hands. Except he wouldn’t hold that life, he would crush it like a bug crashing into a windshield. And he would start with Owen.
“Champagne?” a pretty brunette server offered as she stopped in front of him.
His nostrils flared when the beat of her heart resounded in his ears; his gaze slid to her neck. Every muscle in his body tensed as he fought against seizing her throat and dragging her close to drain her. Gritting his teeth, he lifted a glass off the tray and gave her a look that caused her to scurry away.
He ran a hand over his face and rubbed at his beard as he tried to control his bloodlust. Before coming here, he’d prepared himself to be around so many people and Owen by drinking two bags of blood. However, the hunger was back, and being around this many people didn’t help it.
When Owen leaned down to whisper something in Aida’s ear, the glass snapped in Julian’s hand. He didn’t feel the stem of the glass digging into his palm and scraping against his bone as power swelled through his body. The demon strained to break free, but if he released it now, the savagery it would unleash would make Leatherface look like a kitten.
He had to get out of here, but he didn’t dare walk past anyone right now. He didn’t trust himself not to kill them. The bathroom was only five feet away. He could make it there if he kept his gaze focused on the door.
Don’t look at anyone. Don’t listen to their hearts. Don’t kill them. Whatever you do, don’t kill them!
Keeping the glass in hand, he made his way over to the door and turned the knob to discover it locked. “I’ll be right out,” a voice called.
Juli
an almost hit the door as he pushed the glass deeper into his palm. Wedged up against his bones, it refused to go any further. He was about to tear off the handle, shove his way inside, and eat the unfortunate soul within when a hand settled on his arm.
It was as if he’d walked out of an inferno and into a burst of fresh air as the red shading his vision faded, and he could breathe again. When he turned to gaze at Aida, he almost crushed her against him as overwhelming relief and a desperate need to hold her nearly knocked him to his knees.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yes,” he assured her. Or at least I am now.
When she touched his hand, he realized it remained fisted around the stem of the champagne glass.
“What did you do?” she asked.
“I…”
Aida’s hand settled over his when Julian shook his head. From across the room, she sensed his strain as the caterer rushed away and his shoulders hunched up. She hadn’t understood it, but her instincts said he needed her. Even mad at him, she couldn’t resist the pull toward him, and she couldn’t stand to see him suffer.
She resisted drawing him into her arms; this wasn’t the place. Her fingers moved over his skin as blood welled from between his fingers. The top and bottom of the champagne glass poked out of his fist, but his hand swallowed the middle. They had to get into the bathroom so she could see what he’d done to himself.
“We have to clean you up,” she said.
“I’m fine.” His skin was already healing around the stem, and the flow of blood was easing. Once he left here, he’d remove the glass and wash out the wound.
“Is something wrong here?” Nicolette asked as she arrived at Julian’s other side.
“Just a little accident,” Aida assured her. “The glass broke and cut him.”
“Oh, no!” Nicolette’s hand flew to her mouth. “We’ll get that cleaned up now.”
“I’m fine,” Julian said and moved his hand away from Nicolette when she tried to touch him.
“I’ll take care of it,” Aida assured Nicolette as she cradled his injured hand protectively against her belly. “Julian is an old friend of mine.”
A suspicious gleam came into Nicolette’s eyes as she glanced between the two of them. Aida almost rolled her eyes as she suspected Nicolette was thinking they were setting her up for a lawsuit or something. She was sure she would hear about this later, even if there was no lawsuit.
Seeming to sense this, Julian said, “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but sometimes I’m a klutz.”
Aida had never seen him take a misstep in his life, and he moved with a fluid grace that was mesmerizing, but his smile and words worked as Nicolette looked a little less doubtful.
“I’ve been admiring the paintings and would like to purchase one of them,” he continued.
Nicolette’s skepticism vanished as she bestowed a beautiful smile on him. “No inconvenience at all,” Nicolette assured him.
The pointed glance she shot Aida said she’d be in trouble if he didn’t walk out of here with a painting. The door to the bathroom opened, and the pretty blonde who was talking with Julian earlier emerged. Aida suppressed a groan when then blonde’s eyes landed on Julian and a smile lit her face.
“Oh,” she said as she stuck out a hip. “Hello again.”
Aida bit her tongue to keep from telling her to get out of the way, but Nicolette was watching all of them, and Aida would end up on the unemployment line if she were rude to a potential buyer.
“Hey,” Julian muttered.
“When you get the chance, I’d like to finish our conversation from earlier,” the blonde said as she fluttered her lashes.
“Maybe later,” Julian said as he eyed the bathroom.
He had to get out of this room and somewhere quiet for a few minutes. The blonde stepped out of the way as he strode forward with Aida at his side.
“I’ll be right out,” she said to Nicolette before following him into the room and shutting the door. The lock clicked as she turned it into place. She hit another switch, and a fan turned on. No one would hear them over the noise. “What happened?”
“I’ll take care of this.” She couldn’t see what he’d done to himself; it would only bring more questions. “You should go back out there.”
Aida inhaled a steadying breath as she buried her irritation over his attempt to shut her out. “You came into my work, which means you get no privacy while you’re here.”
She plucked the top and bottom of the champagne glass out of his hand. She gulped when she saw the blood staining the jagged pieces before she tossed them into the trash. What had he done to himself, and why?
“I could lose my job over this,” she said. “And if I don’t have a job, I can’t pay my rent. Unlike you, I can’t will my landlord into believing I paid him.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” he said.
She grunted as she tugged at the fingers he refused to open. “What did you do to yourself?”
“It was an accident.”
“Nicolette doesn’t know you, so she’ll buy that klutz crap, but you don’t have accidents. What happened?”
“You know I’m injured, right?” he asked as she tugged more incessantly at his fingers.
“No, I can’t tell you’re injured because you won’t open your fucking hand.”
The frustration and distress in her voice finally made him open his hand. She gasped when she saw the tube of glass sticking out of the reddened skin surrounding it. Dried blood stained his palm, but the bleeding had stopped, and puckered flesh encased the glass.
“Why did you do this?” Aida breathed.
“It will be fine.”
“I have no doubt, but why would you do this to yourself?”
Julian tugged on his hand; at first, she didn’t release it, but finally, she let him go. Grasping the shaft of glass, he didn’t wince as he pulled it from his palm and tossed it in the trash.
When fresh blood spilled free, he closed his hand to keep it from spilling on the floor and walked over to turn on the faucet. Sticking his hand beneath the water, he watched his blood swirl around the sink before going down the drain.
Aida watched him with a sense of surrealness. Who was this man who returned in place of the boy? She felt as if she knew him so well, yet she didn’t know him at all. That boy never would have plunged a shaft of glass through his palm, or maybe he would have and she’d only believed she knew him when she never had.
CHAPTER 17
Aida shook her head to clear it of her disorienting thoughts. “Julian, why did you do that?”
The tensed set of his shoulders and the rigid way he stood before the sink made her ache for him. She didn’t know what was wrong with him, but something clearly was. No matter how kind he was, he was also incredibly lethal, and she had firsthand experience with the viciousness of his kind.
However, instead of fleeing like any sane, rational human would in the presence of a predator, she found her feet moving toward him. Stepping beside him at the sink, she clasped his wrist and inspected the wound as blood oozed from it.
When he lifted his head to look at her, she brushed back a strand of black hair falling into the corner of his eye. He’d embedded a shard of glass in his hand and hadn’t flinched when he pulled it out, and power oozed from him, yet the vulnerable air surrounding him made a lump form in her throat.
“Why did you do this?” she whispered.
He bowed his head as he focused on the blood. The knuckles of his other hand, locked around the sink, were white. She hoped he didn’t tear it from the wall.
“Julian.” When she touched his cheek, his head turned toward her. “If I’m going to trust you again, then you have to talk to me. What is happening? And why did you come here when you’re so unstable?”
He couldn’t tell her everything, but he couldn’t keep it all hidden from her anymore either. She’d never trust him again if he didn’t tell her some of what was going on with him.
&n
bsp; “I reached maturity,” he said.
Aida’s eyes widened as his words sank in. She’d been around the Byrnes enough to know that meant he’d finished aging and was now a full-fledged vampire who was a lot faster, stronger, and better at wielding his abilities.
Because he was a pureblood, he would hunger for either blood, pain, death, sex, or a combination of things. It also meant he was more volatile and would continue to be until he found and claimed his mate.
Sorrow swelled in her chest; no matter what happened between them, Julian was always sweet and kind to her. After seeing him in the gallery, she suspected she knew which of his instincts went into hyperdrive. He wasn’t the type of man who could handle always wanting to kill, and he definitely couldn’t handle killing an innocent.
His good nature and gentle ways made her feel secure during the summer they spent together. It had never concerned her that he was so large and a vampire; instead, she felt confident in the knowledge he would keep her safe.
Not only was he kind to her, but he’d always carefully unhook the fish they caught before tossing them back. She’d watched him climb a tree to return a baby squirrel to its nest. Sometimes, they would catch fireflies at night, and he would hold him in his cupped hands. Their glow would flash over his face while he smiled and held his hands out for her to get a better look. They’d stand with their heads touching as they hunched over his hand before he carefully set the insect free. And in all their adventures, he’d never intentionally mistreated anything.
“What do you crave most?” she asked.
“I want to kill everyone out there,” he admitted on a whisper. “For a minute, it took all I had not to kill the woman who gave me the champagne.”
The hair on Aida’s nape rose, but she wasn’t concerned about herself; she worried about everyone out there. “You shouldn’t be here. You could attack someone.”
“I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last.”
She blinked back the unexpected tears burning her eyes as she restrained herself from hugging him. She had no idea what was going on between them, and allowing herself to get closer, especially after this revelation, could be disastrous.
Forsaken (Vampire Awakenings, Book 10) Page 10
