by Jaye Wells
When I heard the voice on the other end, I almost hung up.
“Raven? Why are you answering Kira’s phone?” my father asked. His voice grated on my nerves, which were already raw from the continued banging by Hank.
“Well, hello, Father. It’s nice to talk to you, too,” I said.
“I’m calling to talk to Callum,” he said, ignoring my sarcasm.
“He’s not here.” I watched Hank wiggle from beneath the sink and wipe his grimy hands on the butt of his jeans. At least the crack was covered.
“Don’t tell me they’ve left you alone,” my father said.
“No, Kira and Hannah are here someplace. Don’t worry though. They’ve hidden all the valuables where I can’t find them.”
He sighed. “I’d hoped that a third of the way into your time there you’d have learned to curb that tongue of yours.”
“You know what? I’m gonna let you go now. Buh-bye.”
“Wait. I want to talk to you about something,” he said before I could hang up.
“What?”
“Callum has been updating me regularly on your progress. He says you’re doing well,” he said.
A flush of pleasure started in my middle at his words. Even Hank’s renewed clatter didn’t bother me this time.
“However, I am sure he’s whitewashing things so I won’t worry. Don’t think you can fake your way through this.”
And there went the warm glow.
Taking a deep, calming breath, I tried to tamp down the urge to yell.
“Tell me something,” I said. “If you’re so convinced I am going to fail at this, why did you send me here to begin with?”
“It’s not your place to question my reasoning. It’s your job to do what you’re told. And right now I’m telling you that you might have Callum fooled, but you can’t fool me. Are you sleeping with him yet?”
My mouth dropped open in shock as my heart plummeted in my chest. I might have done some questionable things in my life. But I had never used sex to get my way. Ever.
“You know what?” I asked my father. “You seem to have made up your mind about me already. So, you’ll understand why I am about to hang up on you.”
I slammed the phone down so hard that the wall cradle cracked.
“Uh, miss?” Hank’s voice cut through the red haze of anger welling up in me. “You’re gonna need a brand new disposal unit here.”
I’m not exactly sure what happened next. One minute I was pissed at my father and frustrated by the day from hell. And the next minute, the plumber looked like dinner.
He stood next to the sink waiting for my response. I said nothing, just began stalking him. At first he just looked at me curiously, as if politely waiting to see what I had in mind. As I neared, his eyes widened.
“Miss? Are you all right?” he asked. “Look, lady, I’m married, so there’s no use in giving me that come-hither stare.”
My predatory drive was in full force as I rounded the center island. Before he could say another word, I reached into his mind. It didn’t take much force to calm his fears and make him biddable.
I reached out and placed my hands on his shoulders. Inhaling, I caught the scent of sweat and grease. But underneath all that was the hypnotic scent of real blood. The ambrosia I had been denied for weeks.
Stress lowers a vampire’s immunity, much like it did in humans, but the effects were exaggerated. Thus, even though I had gulped down a quick bottle of Lifeblood in the car thanks to Hannah, I was ravenous.
My fangs descended as I went in for a taste. I wasn’t thinking about the consequences of my actions. However, there really was no threat to the human. Because of my connection to his thoughts, I would know immediately when I had taken too much. But right then I didn’t really care. I needed blood, and I needed this act of rebellion even more.
My fangs grazed his neck once, causing his mass to shudder. Opening my mouth wide, I prepared to feast.
Before I could break the skin, though, something grabbed me from behind and tossed me like a rag doll across the room. My body slammed into the refrigerator. Unhurt but dazed, I shook my head to clear it.
Callum stood in front of the plumber like an avenging angel. I started to rise, but the rage in his eyes held me in check. He turned to the plumber and looked into his eyes. After a moment, Hank calmly went to the counter, packed up his bag, and walked out without a word.
There goes dinner, I thought wryly.
But I knew how lucky I was Callum had interceded. The ramifications of such an act would have spelled disaster for my future.
Callum turned back to me, and suddenly I wasn’t so grateful he was the one who caught me. His clenched jaw and fists told the tale. I had screwed up royally.
From my position on the floor, I held up a hand.
“Callum, listen, before you—"
“Don’t.” His voice was eerily calm, more ice than fire.
He wrenched me up by my arms and turned me toward the door. Without a word, he pulled me through the house, up the stairs and straight into a bedroom that must have been his. I didn’t bother to fight him. The reality of what I had done was sinking in fast, and my mind was working overtime to figure out what the hell was coming.
He pushed me onto the edge of the bed.
“Don’t move,” he commanded.
Sitting still, I watched him begin to pace in front of me. His every movement screamed of leashed fury. When he spoke, his voice vibrated despite its quiet tone.
“I brought you up here because I am going to give you one chance to explain yourself. If you fail to give me a pretty damned good reason for what you just did, I will march downstairs and call your father to come get you. Understood?”
He stopped in front of me, demanding an excuse I didn’t have. What could I say? That I’d had a bad day? I leaned back on my hands and stared up at him defiantly.
“We both know there’s no excuse. Go ahead and make the call.”
Chapter Fifteen
Callum dropped his head for a moment as if praying for patience. Rubbing his eyes, he took a deep breath.
“Why are you so fucking stubborn? Do you want to be exiled? Is that it? Or is it that you are so screwed up that anytime things start going well you have to sabotage yourself?”
“Don’t you psychoanalyze me,” I said, sitting forward, menace in my voice.
“Someone should! I just don’t get it. Things were going so well.”
“How would you know? You haven’t been around!”
“Mother gives me updates.”
I snorted.
“Wait. Did you bite that man to get back at me for something?” His incredulity was evident.
“No.”
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath.
“I don’t know!”
Suddenly, I felt tired. Fighting with Callum was exhausting.
“It’s been a shitty day, okay?” I said finally.
He sat down next to me, not too close but near enough that I smelled his Callumness, a mixture of woodsy cologne and hot male.
“Tell me what happened?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested.
“Look, it doesn’t matter,” I said, starting to stand. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back down.
“Stop. Talk to me.”
Heaving a sigh, I relented.
“The day had been crap before I got home, but I guess it was the conversation with my father, on top of everything else, that pushed me over the edge,” I explained.
“What did he say?”
“He implied that I’d been using sex to manipulate you into giving him good reports.”
“What?” Callum’s outraged voice bounced off the walls. “What made him think that?”
I wondered briefly if part of his shock was at the idea that someone would think he’d actually sleep with me. Knowing it was an overreaction, I shook those thoughts away as soon as they reared up.
“I don’t know, Callum. I guess he figured that’
s the only way you’d say something complimentary about me.”
He frowned. “It doesn’t matter why he said it. We both know it’s not true. You really have been doing well. Until today. I don’t get why you let him push your buttons like that.”
“I don’t know why either. I tell myself to blow him off, but he always seems to bring out the worst in me.”
“Why is that?”
I looked down at my hands, not sure if I wanted to get into that right then. Looking up at Callum, I saw something close to empathy in his eyes. On second thought, maybe it would be nice to get it off my chest.
“What do you know about my mother?”
He blinked at my change in topic.
“Nothing. I wondered why she wasn’t in the picture, but I’d never heard anything. Why?”
I stood to give myself some space from his distracting nearness.
“From what I’ve been told, she was pretty wild. My father turned her when she was still quite young by mortal standards—about sixteen years old. She had been a farm girl. Her father grew grains that he sold at the market in the village. Apparently, Orpheus was smitten from the moment he first saw her.
“The story goes that they fell in love, and he turned her so they could be together forever. He thought she was his soul mate. But after the change, she became unpredictable, drunk on her new powers.”
Callum nodded. “So when your father turned her, she gained not only immortality, but a rise in social class. I can see how that might cause someone born into poverty to get a little carried away.”
Nodding absently, I continued.
“Father hoped that after I was born she would calm down. Settle into being a mother. Apparently, though, she became even more reckless. One night she walked into a tavern full of mortals. She grabbed a patron and fed on him in front of everyone, claiming she was a goddess,” I said, pausing as frustration and sadness filled me.
My mother was a stranger to me for all intents and purposes, but the story of what happened was too horrible to remain unaffected.
“Somehow they subdued her. After chaining her in the town’s square, they waited for the sun to kill her.”
Callum let out a deep breath. “Shit.”
“Of course, it didn’t kill her,” I said, imaging the terror she had to have experienced. “It must have been agony for her, though, as the effects of the sun allergy took over, covered in rashes and all of her tissues swelling.”
Suppressed a shudder, I soldiered on, wanting to get this over with.
“When they discovered the sun hadn’t killed her, they decided to stake her. Since she was already weak, she couldn’t fight them off. For good measure, they burned her body at midnight in the square.”
“That’s horrible,” Callum said, sounding shocked. “Where was your father through all this?”
“He was off conducting some business with the heads of some of the other families. I had been left with my wet nurse while mother went out.”
“Wow.” He grew quiet, as if thinking about the implications of my story.
The first prickles of tears began, but I ruthlessly fought them. There was no sense crying for a woman I didn’t remember.
“Anyway, my father was worried I would take after her, so he was very strict with me. But the more he pushed me, the more I rebelled. Once he joined the Brethren, he got worse. He became irrational in his demands. It got so bad I left, refusing to attach myself to the sect at all.”
“So your decision to fight the advances we’ve made is a result of his pressure,” he concluded.
I shook my head. “Callum, you don’t understand. He’s fanatical about his beliefs. He sees no grey areas at all. I think when my mother died he decided the only way to protect our kind was to pretend we weren’t different. To blend. It’s not just that he pressured me—I honestly believe his ideas are harmful.
“Do you know that until I was out on my own, I was never allowed to hunt or go outside by myself? He had vagrants brought to the villa for me to feed from, and he paid them off with large sums of cash. He neglected to teach me about taking care of my needs. I think part of that, too, was to keep me dependent on him.”
“I had no idea it was like that for you,” he said. “I guess this explains your mistrust of mortals, though.”
Nodding, I tried to explain. “When I was young, I blamed them for taking my mother from me. As I grew, though, I realized she had to have been mentally ill. However, my father’s increasing efforts to be more like them ruined any chance of me seeing them in a positive light.”
He stood and said, “You’re a strong woman, Gabriella Coracino.”
The corner of my mouth twitched. “No, I’m not, Callum. I’m screwed up. Any fool can see that.”
“Anyone raised under those circumstances would have reacted the same way,” he said with a frown. “Or else they would have become trembling little pawns.”
“Sometimes, I think it would have been easier to become the perfect little vamp princess he wanted. At least then maybe he’d love me.”
I bit my tongue, angry I’d said it out loud. I waited for Callum to tell me I was being silly and to stop with the self-pity. Instead, he put his hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye.
“You know what?” he said. “Screw him.”
Blinking, I wondered if I misheard him.
“What?”
“You heard me. Screw him,” he repeated. “If he can’t see that you’re a smart, strong woman, then that’s his problem. The best thing you can do is succeed at this challenge he’s given you. Then you can move on and never speak to him again.”
Smiling, I felt all warm and mushy at his defense of me.
“However,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “No more biting the help, okay?”
I grimaced at the reminder. “Look, I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have tried to take my frustration out on the plumber.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. Frankly, I’m surprised, despite what you just told me about your old man, that one bad phone call can make you relapse like that.”
“It wasn’t just the phone call. The blood bank sucked worse than usual, and I broke the disposal, and then there was this morning.”
His eyebrows knit together. “This morning?”
I shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to admit how much our tense conversation had upset me.
“What about this morning, Gabby?” he asked, not letting me avoid his gaze.
I sighed. “It’s not a big deal, okay? I just felt like you brushed me off.”
He hesitated and then laughed. “I find it hard to believe anyone could brush you off without hearing about it.”
When I didn’t laugh with him, he frowned.
“Is this about the coffee episode?”
Shaking my head, I said, “No, before that. It was like you didn’t even want to be in the same room as me.”
He blew out a breath. “Okay, I know I was short with you. I could say it’s stress from work, but that’s not the whole truth.”
I waited expectantly while he seemed to gather his thoughts.
“Truth is, I thought that some space might help both of us. Things were pretty tense that night after we went to dinner. I didn’t want to tempt either of us into doing something we might both regret.”
My jaw dropped. Did he just say he’d regret sleeping with me?
“You are so fucking full of yourself!” I said.
His eyes widened, surprised by my sudden attack.
“What? What’d I do?” He asked, taken aback.
“I’ll have you know that no man sleeps with me and regrets it. You’d be lucky to get me into bed!” I said, my arms flying around, heralding my Italian ancestry.
“You’re right,” he said quietly, stopping me in my tracks.
“What?” Now it was my turn to be confused.
“I didn’t mean to imply I would regret sleeping with you, you silly woman. I meant that i
f we slept together there might be consequences we don’t want to deal with.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling foolish.
“Yeah.”
“Like what?” I asked, moving a step closer to him.
“Like if your father found out, he might call the whole thing off and send you to Norway.”
“But he already thinks we’re sleeping together, remember?” I said.
“True.” He moved a little closer. “But I wouldn’t want you thinking you don’t have to follow through with your training because we . . . were intimate.”
“Yeah, right. Like you’d let me slack off,” I said, brushing his concerns off with a wave of my hand. “What else?”
His voice lowered slightly as he moved toward me.
“If my family found out, they’d feel the need to be in our business.”
“So we wouldn’t tell them,” I said.
His eyes flicked to my mouth and stayed there. My lips—and various other parts—went on red alert. The conversation was turning me on. Oh, yeah, that was definitely lust I was feeling.
My mind tried to intervene. She tried to remind me this was the man I once swore was the complete opposite of everything I wanted. But my hormones shut her up before she could get much further.
I didn’t know if it was the fact he listened to me whine about my father and then took my side. I didn’t know if it was the fact he seemed to genuinely want me to succeed. I didn’t know if it was his tight ass or his very kissable lips. All I knew was that I had to have him right then—or sooner if possible.
Callum’s thoughts seemed to have followed the direction of my own. His palm had begun a lazy path up my bare arm, which was exposed by a pink tank top.
“So what you’re saying is there really is no reason we can’t do this?” he said, his voice almost a whisper.
“None that I can think of,” I replied, my heart beating heavily in my chest.
I swear my nipples stood up to wave at him.
“Let’s say I did this,” he said, reaching up to cup my right breast. I bit back a moan as the heat of his hand seared through the thin fabric of my top.
“Would you have any objections?”
His breath was coming faster now, even as he tried to maintain his nonchalant façade.
