“Would you go to the Blood Reader with me?”
She skidded to a halt. “What, right now?”
“No, no,” I replied. “Tomorrow?”
Understanding filled her expression. “Yeah, of course. I have a shift in the cafe, but right after?”
She had to work tomorrow, and here she was, traipsing through the city in the middle of the night with me to spy on vampires. I didn’t deserve her. “Thanks.” I checked the street sign just a few feet away, barely visible under the dimming streetlamp. “It’s just the next street over.”
We crept up to the dense, perfectly trimmed hedges that surrounded the outer iron gates of Celadine’s Victorian mansion and ducked below the cover they provided, only peeking over the surface to look for any sign of movement.
Most of the windows were dark, but a few on the main level glowed with a soft yellow light that spilled out into the gothic garden boxes under the windows. I adored this house, so dark and lovely with its pristine historic features. The wrap-around veranda was painted black to match the ornate trim work that crawled over the deep purple exterior. I glanced at the curved glass sunroom and guffawed at myself at the idea of a vampire needing such a thing.
“What if they spot us?” I whispered to Julie and Lattie. “Do vampires have, like, special abilities or anything?”
“Some do,” Julie replied, her eyes narrowing in the dark as she peered at the house. “Some don’t. And they’re all different. I’ve heard of vamps with the ability to fly, others with super speed, cloaking, hypnotic powers–”
“Mind reading,” Lattie added.
“Mind reading?” I swallowed nervously, suddenly second-guessing what we were about to do. I wondered then if Cillian had those abilities. It would explain how he always seemed to know where I was or what I was doing. Or my favorite band, favorite food. I felt the color drain from my face. “Let’s do this before I change my mind.”
We snuck around to a bald spot in the hedge, and Julie touched the black metal fence. “There’re no wards.” Before I could form a reply, she gripped a picket in each hand and curled her fingers around them until they… disappeared.
“How did you do that?”
She wasted no time stepping through the opening she had just created. “Just another parlor trick,” she said. “Come on.”
I followed her, and Lattie fluttered close behind as we snuck through the darkened yard. We crept over to one window with light inside. The kitchen. It appeared to be empty, so we moved to the next one.
A beautifully decorated living room, similar to the front room I’d sat in. Dark wainscotting lined the walls, and gothic golden-brass fixtures hung from them. Stark white tufted furniture was arranged neatly, and Celadine draped across the long Victorian style sofa, dressed in a black silk kimono as she sipped on a glass of red wine with boredom.
Was it blood?
Cillian stood leaning against the wall, his body tense, his arms folded tightly to reveal parts of his muscled forearms. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at him. And another figure occupied the room with them. A man. Older, but all the key features of a vampire. I noted the absence of black eyes, though. Just unnatural baby blues in shallow pits, a stark contrast against the all-black suit he wore. He looked like the devil incarnate, come to Earth to make a bargain.
“I urge you to consider my offer,” the man spoke to Celadine, who remained on the couch like a lazy cat.
She seemed so unbothered by him. “I’ve already given you my answer, Botwood. Several times. I have no desire to become a token member of your little council.”
The man, Botwood, clenched his fists at his sides. “Token–little council…” He stopped and took a deep breath. “Vampires are flocking to the city in droves, from all around the world. You’ve no idea what we’re trying to establish here, Miss Danes.”
Cillian pushed off the wall. “And we don’t care to learn.” He stood a solid foot taller than Botwood and glared down at him. “We want no part. We never have.” I drank him in, every inch of him. “It’s been made very clear what you all think of my sister and me. For years now. And we’re perfectly content remaining on the outside where you’ve pushed us.” He took a few intimidating steps closer to Botwood, the black long sleeve shirt stretching over his tightening muscles as he pushed the sleeve up to his elbows. “But now that we’re useful to you and your cause, you think we’ll take whatever scraps you give us?” He laughed darkly. “It’s not happening. Get out.”
Botwood straightened his back as he stared challengingly up at the vampire that loomed over him. “Mr. Danes–”
“Oh, don’t pull that Mr. Danes bullshit with me, Botwood. I said, get out. I’d advise you to listen before my hospitality expires.”
The man opened his mouth to argue more, but Cillian’s hand moved in a flash and gripped him by the throat, lifting him off the floor. The sound of his neck cracking was impossible to ignore. I stifled a gasp in my mouth, but it was enough to make the two vampires inside whip their heads right to where I crouched outside the window with my friends.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Julie hissed and began ushering me out of the way. “We need to leave. Now!”
We clumsily backtracked the way we came and took off running the moment our feet touched the sidewalk. Lattie soared high above us. My heart beat wildly as my chest burned with heaving breaths. But I didn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop until we were safe behind the wards Moya placed around our home. While the recon trip confirmed what we already knew–that Cillian and Celadine were vampires–I still had so many questions. About them, about me.
Like why, although I knew he was a bloodthirsty creature of the night who could lift a full-grown man by the neck with one arm… I still wanted him. More than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.
Chapter Twenty
I slept all the next day. Well, it was more like a deep, induced coma brought on from over exhaustion and mental trauma. Either way, I was grateful for it. Not just because I’d desperately needed sleep, but I knew I never would have sanely waited for Julie to finish her shift in the coffee shop so we could see the Blood Reader together. Even now, as I paced my bedroom floor in wait, there were still twenty minutes before she would be home.
So much had happened in such a small amount of time, and I obsessively pored over everything in my mind as I paced. Aside from the fact that an evil hell fairy was hunting me down, just in the last forty-eight hours… the kelpie attack, learning more about Cillian’s secret. Vivid flashes of a black leathery wing, tar dripping eyes, those thick and oily scales as the kelpie’s tail constricted my body, and my lungs filled with water. And then… the light. My light.
Or was it?
I stared down at my empty, shaky palms. How did I do it? How did I summon that light, and how had it never presented itself before? Not once in my life until I became exposed to this mythical world.
A cool breeze blew across my bedroom, and I looked up to find Cillian sitting casually on my windowsill. My blood stilled in my veins as I stared in disbelief at how soundlessly he’d appeared. Like a ghost.
Or a vampire.
“How… you can’t come in here,” I managed and blindly reached for the knife I’d begun keeping under my pillow.
He arched a curious, brazen brow and swung his legs over the edge, placing one leather boot on the floor. “Can’t I?”
The wooden knife handle groaned in my hand as I gripped it tightly at my side. I shook my head and backed away, putting as much space between us as I could in my modest bedroom. “No, I mean, we have wards–”
He guffawed and set his other foot down. “Not very good ones, then.”
No, they were solid. Moya had made them herself. Anyone with ill intent will not be able to enter. The sea maiden’s words rang in my mind. But Cillian had entered without a hitch. Which could only mean… he truly meant no harm.
Then why were my senses suddenly on high alert?
He remained near the window, see
mingly unsure whether to come any further. “Spying on me now, are you?”
My throat tightened. “How did you know?”
He tapped his nose with a sad grin.
“Let me guess? You could smell us?” I replied with a bit too much sarcasm.
“You,” Cillian said pointedly, and those killer blues shot to my face. “I could smell you. I could be in a room full of Fae, Avery, but if you’re there… ” He took a deep, exaggerated inhale and shook his head. “And now that I’ve… tasted you–”
I cast my palm up to stop him. I looked away, biting down on my lip to keep from screaming at the memory. The one of Cillian’s mouth on mine, his teeth gripping my bottom lip as he laid the most passionate kiss on me. Such a bittersweet mix of emotions stirred in my chest.
“That man,” I said quietly, fixing my stare on the carpet. “Did you… kill him?”
“I try not to be a monster, Avery.” The pain in his tone made me look at him, and he tipped his head, giving me a pleading look. “And Botwood’s no more a man than you are. He’s a vampire. Older than even I am.”
I let his words settle on me. “And, how old are you, exactly?”
Cillian lowered his brow and looked at me through those thick dark lashes. “You sure you’re ready to know that?”
I raised my chin slightly, my face stern. “Yes.” A lie. I wasn’t sure I was ready for any of it.
His beautiful face hardened. “Maybe I’m not ready then.”
Impatience suddenly flooded through me. Enough of the word games and secrets. I was done with it.
“So, what are you ready to tell me then?” I angled the tip of the blade in his direction, and he eyed it with a lazy smirk. I wondered then if a stake would have been a better choice of weapon.
His shoulders slumped beneath his leather jacket. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry,” he said. “I want to crawl on the floor and beg for your forgiveness.”
“For what?”
His chin pointed at my still-fat lip, and I self-consciously brought my hand up to cover it, embarrassed at the memory of how I’d behaved that night. A literal predator had his mouth on mine, and all I could do was demand more.
“That was my fault,” I said, barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
He dared take a step closer but halted as I stiffened against the door at my back. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, Avery. Nothing.” My eyes locked with his as they widened at me. “You hear me. Nothing. You should never have to apologize for what I am.”
I let the affirmation sink in. “Would you have stopped?” I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know the answer. “If I hadn’t pushed you away at my aunt’s house, would you have stopped?” Before you killed me, I wanted to add. But didn’t.
Cillian’s wide mouth parted slightly as he sighed warily. Seemingly weighing his answer carefully. “Yes.”
“You swear?”
“Yes,” his voice deepened, and my stomach clenched. “If you understand just one thing, let it be that I’d never hurt you. Never. I… couldn’t. Not since the first moment I saw you.”
“At that frat party?” God, I have had so many cringeworthy moments since moving to the city.
“No,” he replied and stared off thoughtfully. “In Cellie’s mind.”
A toady wince choked in my throat. Was Cillian one of those mind-reading vampires Lattie mentioned? God, my thoughts weren’t even safe around him, then.
“I can’t see inside your mind if that’s what you’re wondering.”
I arched a brow in question as my thumb rubbed against the hard, leathery hilt of my knife. “Can’t you?”
“No, just my sister’s.”
I said nothing to that. I just waited for him to explain. Cillian’s chest rose and fell.
“Cellie and I are linked. Mentally. And sometimes… emotionally. We can sense one another’s pain, our happiness. Everything. When I learned she’d found a human to–” he cleared his throat, “get attached to, I was furious. Because it’s not fair to me for her to take risks like that. If something ever happened to you, she’d be crushed, and I’d be forced to endure that pain. So, I began picking images of you from her mind to learn what I could about you so I might scare you away.” He let that settle over me for a moment. “But I couldn’t. Not when I saw what lurked in the shadows, watching you. Not when I saw that you so blindly surrounded yourself with immortal creatures. I watched you on the grass at that party, and I knew… I knew… I had to protect you at all costs.” That navy stare set on me with such yearning that I wanted to weep. Cillian relaxed against my dresser, ankles crossed. “So, ask me whatever you want, Avery. Whatever questions plague your thoughts. Let me wash away those worries. I’ll never lie to you.”
I couldn’t bring myself to answer him or say anything at all. The solemn declaration wrapped me in a whirl of thoughts and emotions, and I struggled my way to the surface, where I could think clearly. Cillian was so tempting, so beautiful, so alluring. Every word he spoke was like a call to something deep inside of me. Deeper than my own soul.
I could hardly stand being in the same room with him. This midnight predator, this immortal creature disguised as a man who just poured his heart out to me. If it weren’t for the slight tremble in my legs, I might have forgotten where I was, standing in my bedroom.
All I could think about was how much I wanted his hands on me, touching my skin. A blaze of warmth trickled down my torso and pooled between my legs, and I clenched my thighs tightly. I wondered if he could tell the effect he had on me. The desire I harbored for him.
His fiery stare was answer enough. His fists clenched at his sides. Not in anger, but almost as if he struggled to reign in that same desire that mirrored in him. His muscled chest heaved ever so slightly, and I ached to run my hand over the defined lines of it.
I couldn’t bring myself to face the big questions, so I settled with, “Is Sons of Galloway really your favorite band?”
Cillian reeled back with a silent chuckle and gave me a look that said of all the questions. His soft pink lips widened with a grin. “Yes.” I didn’t bother to hide my look of surprise. “One of them. Top five at least.”
“Are you going to bite me?” The words rushed out as if with a mind of their own. “I mean, do you have a need to?”
Cillian’s Adam’s apple bobbed with a dry swallow. “Among other things, yes.” Those predator eyes darted to my neck, and a tiny gasp caught at the back of my throat. He quickly added, “But I would never–I mean… I can control myself if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not some blood-sucking monster.”
Everything Cillian said felt right. Felt true. If only his expression didn’t reflect the word he’d so carefully avoided.
But. I’m not a blood-sucking monster but.
“I actually have a question,” he said.
I shot him an incredulous look and swept my hand through the air between us. “Oh, please, by all means.” I could only imagine where this was going.
“What were you doing at my house in the middle of the night?”
“Looking for answers,” I replied honestly.
“And? Did you find what you were looking for?”
“No.” I chewed the inside of my cheek. “I only left with more questions.” I stole a glance at my sketchbook on the bed, thankful it was closed, knowing it was full of images of him. Questions, questions, questions. Manifested in a notepad nearly filled with them. Cillian utterly consumed me.
“Well, when you’re ready for answers, you know where to find me,” he replied, and a cool breeze caressed my face as I looked up to where he was standing, mouth open and ready to really talk. To tell him I was ready.
But he was gone.
The front door to the apartment opened and closed as Julie’s voice called out my name. I grabbed my green leather jacket from the back of the door and headed out to meet her with a sigh. I couldn’t afford to fall prey to the distraction of Cillian. Not now, not when I had my
own questions to be answered.
It was time to pay a visit to the Blood Reader.
***
“Okay, don’t tell him what you’re after,” Julie said in a low tone as we wove through the people at The Black Market. Steam shot up and out from a cauldron of soup at one merchant tent, and Julie expertly avoided it without a second glance. Her attention focused on me. “The Reader is still Fae. They’re…tricky. Don’t give him anything to work with, or he might find a way to lie to you.”
“So, what do I say?” I could see the familiar black tent up ahead.
“Just ask for a reading and tell him to look closer, see what he can find.”
I squared my shoulders as we reached the tent, and Julie pulled open the flap as I stepped inside. She followed close behind, and, just as before, The Blood Reader sat at a small round table. As if waiting for us. Aside from some sort of Fae light that lit the space, nothing else occupied the tent, a fact I’d been too shell-shocked to notice before.
The bald, sightless male inhaled deeply in our presence. “I require a mighty payment for the answers you seek, my child.”
Julie said nothing as she tossed three of the same coins Moya had on the table. I made a mental note to ask about those later.
The Reader’s long, pale, bony hand swept the coins across the table toward him. His blood-stained fingertips curled over them. He grinned and waved at a chair that suddenly appeared. “Your hand.”
This time, I sat and placed my hand in his upturned palm with more confidence.
“I’ve read you before,” he said. “Recently.”
I leaned forward. “I wish for another. A… deeper one. I’d like you to see what you can find.”
The Reader yanked my arm, bringing my wrist to his grotesque nose–nothing more than a slight bump on his face with two uncomfortably long vertical slits that opened and closed with every breath. He cocked his head as if listening to something we couldn’t hear, and that grin turned wild.
Without releasing my arm, he fetched a small wooden box from the floor at his feet and flipped it open on the table. A tiny golden dagger in a dark wood hilt lay nestled in a pool of small vials. Vials of just about everything. I had no idea what any of it was, but colors across the rainbow stared back at me. I desperately wanted to capture them on canvas.
A Kingdom of Iron & Wine : New Adult Fantasy Romance (The Ironworld Series Book 1) Page 26
