by Tessa Dawn
But then he noticed the small spiral notebook she had left behind on the couch, the one with the painted pink dragon on the front, the one she often used as some kind of journal or diary. Everything in him told him it was wrong to snoop, that even Marquis and Nathaniel would be disappointed in him for doing something so disrespectful and immature, but he just couldn’t help it.
It was right there.
Lying upside down on Nachari’s couch, the pages already open.
And what if Kristina really was in trouble? Then Nachari would expect him to act like a true male from the house of Jadon—duty before self.
He looked through the large pane of floor-to-ceiling glass on the second level of the brownstone, wondering how he would get away with it, but Kristina was quickly walking toward the far end of the deck with her back turned to him, putting as much distance between them as possible—so she could sneak behind his back. All obvious and everything.
Well, fine—two could play that game.
Using the stealthy glide of his enhanced Vampyr body, he slinked noiselessly across the room and picked up the diary. He glanced out the window again—from this vantage point, he could no longer see Kristina’s full body. The only thing that remained in his line of sight was a lock of Kristina’s wild red curls; and if he couldn’t see her fully, then she couldn’t see him, either. Gazing down at the well-worn page beneath him—it was practically covered in illegible blue ink—he began to scan the uneven lines, reading as many words as he could, skipping randomly through the paragraphs as quickly as possible:
I’m just so torn. I don’t know if Ramsey cares at all or if he just wants to use me for sex…
I know he’ll leave me when his destiny comes, but he still wants to have a good time…
I hate how he disappears the minute somebody shows up or leaves the minute anything comes up. Like everything always has to be this huge secret, but I guess he has to do whatever Napolean tells him. Still, it sucks to be in this position…
God, I can’t believe I could think he’s as cruel as Dirk. Sometimes I even wonder if he’d hit me. Or force me? There really is something so dark and dangerous about him. But it’s sexy as hell, too…
Shit, my brothers would kill me. I don’t even want to think about it. No, they are never gonna know. No matter what happens. Never!
So, I guess the jury is still out for now, but I do have to decide something soon…
Ramsey is not a little boy playing games, and he’s so forceful. It’s gonna happen one way or the other if I don’t get rid of him…
Damn, he is so fine, though. I really do kind of want him…
I don’t know what to do.
This totally sucks!
Braden grimaced as the words sank in, tossed the diary back on the couch, and quickly arranged it the way he had found it. And then he scrunched up his face and took a step back, staring out the window at Kristina’s back.
What in the world had he just read?
Kristina and Ramsey? Eww.
He shook his head as if it were full of cotton candy. Why would Ramsey try to do that with Kristina? He was way too…something. Big. Old. Mean?
Braden ambled across the room and sat back down in his chair just staring off into space. He couldn’t understand it, but he was angry.
Really angry.
He sat there tapping his foot against the ground, trying to think of what in the world he should do, and waiting for Kristina to come back inside.
His head hurt.
And that made no sense for a vampire.
When the patio doors finally slid open and Kristina waltzed back inside, he could tell by the look on her face that she must have been talking to Ramsey.
Dang, he was so mad!
“Who was that?” he demanded, jumping to his feet. His hands went immediately to his hips.
Kristina drew back in surprise. Quickly recovering her composure, she stepped into the room and placed her phone on an end table. “Excuse me?”
Braden puffed out his chest. He could feel his heart begin to race. “You heard me. Who was that! On the phone?”
Kristina glanced absently at her diary lying on the couch, blanched for a second as if realizing that she had left it within his reach, and then squared her shoulders in defiance, obviously confident that the book hadn’t been touched.
And he wasn’t going to tell her he’d read it, either. At least not now. He wanted to know if she would keep lying to him.
“Frankly, Braden, that’s none of your business.”
Braden felt a funny tingle in his mouth, like his gums were retracting, and there was a strange, swirling energy flowing up and down his arms that made him feel almost like he was shifting inside of his own body. Really, really weird. He swallowed some extra saliva and made a concentrated effort to pitch his voice low—like the Silivasi brothers always did when they were being stern. “Woman,” he barked, doing his best Marquis imitation, “I’m not playing games with you. Tell me who was on the phone.” The sound reverberated through the room like a heavy globe ricocheting through a pinball machine, and Braden could hardly believe it had come from his mouth. A subtle growl punctuated the end of his sentence, the sound equally surprising.
Kristina looked positively stunned.
And none too happy.
“Are you crazy?” she asked, raising her voice. “You better chill out, Bray. What is your problem?”
The boy’s feet felt like shifting pillars against the ground, quaking and rising beneath him, and for a moment, he started to feel afraid of what was happening. “My problem? What’s your problem?” His voice wavered, betraying his underlying insecurity. “Why won’t you talk to me? Why are you being so…sneaky?”
Kristina frowned then. “It’s not sneaky, Braden. It’s called privacy. And I have a right to it. Damn, why don’t you just…go find a crossword puzzle or something?”
Braden widened his stance, planting both feet approximately a shoulder’s length apart and bending his knees. He was trying to appear threatening and had instinctively fallen into an attack stance. “Who was on the phone,” he repeated, sounding more predatory than he had ever sounded before—the guttural tone of the words rolled out on a snarl.
Kristina took a step back, for the first time appearing unsure. “It was just a friend—some girl I used to know from the casino, okay?” She walked over to the couch, picked up her diary, turned on her heels, and started to leave the room. “I’ll talk to you later, Bray, maybe after you’ve calmed down.”
Braden felt hot tears sting his eyes, and he hated feeling so weak in the face of a potentially serious situation. “Stop!” he yelled, sounding more desperate than commanding.
Kristin spun on her heels angrily, squaring off to face him, and by the heated look in her bright blue eyes, she was no longer playing around. “Don’t tell me what to do,” she snapped. She pointed her finger at him and waved it as she spoke. “You might be my friend, but you ain’t got it like that. Comprende?”
Braden felt like the room was spinning around in circles now. “I’ll do what I want,” he argued, knowing he sounded crazy. “And you better start listening.”
Kristina shook her head, incredulous. “Whatever!” She waved her hand in a brisk dismissal and turned to leave the room again.
To Braden’s utter surprise, he shot across the space at lightning speed, not at all sure if he had flown or dematerialized to get there that fast, stopped directly in front of her, and squared his ever expanding adolescent shoulders, creating a wide barrier to block her path. “You’re not going anywhere, Kristina!”
“Excuse me?”
“Not until you answer my questions first.”
“Get out of my way, Braden. I mean it.”
“I can take the answers from your mind if you won’t give them to me,” he threatened.
“Cannot,” Kristina snapped, sarcastically.
“Can too!” he argued.
“Can. Not.” She punctuated each word
separately.
“Can. Too. I can do whatever I want! I’ve dug into people’s minds before.”
Kristina smiled then, but there was nothing lighthearted or congenial about it. “Oh, what are we talking about now? Katie Bell? The little girl who you almost lobotomized while trying to play wizard? The mess that Nachari had to clean up for you?” She leaned toward him, her hands planted firmly on her hips. “You mess with my head in any way, Braden, and Marquis will have your hide.” Her voice rose proportionately as she continued to counter his threat. “Not only is it forbidden, but I highly doubt you’re even capable of it. More than likely, you’d just…accidentally kill me. Is that what you want?”
Braden felt like he was going to cry. And why was that, anyhow? He was a male in the house of Jadon, a warrior in the making, a vampire with the burgeoning skills to one day be a great wizard, besides—why was he letting her get to him like this? “Don’t you talk to me like that,” he barked defiantly, unable to think of a better comeback. “I want to know who you were talking to, and I want to know now.”
Kristina shook her head in disbelief. “Braden…” She lowered her voice. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’m not going to stand here and argue: It’s none of your business, and that’s the end of it.”
Braden felt himself shaking. “It is, too, my business.” He cleared his throat, searching for a better argument. “If I’m going to mate you one day, then you’re damn right, it’s my business.”
Kristina laughed then, and Braden was surprised at how much the derisive sound hurt. “Oh my God, Braden,” she snickered. “Are you serious?” She rolled her eyes, as if whatever he was thinking wasn’t even worth the time it took him to think it. “You are not going to mate me one day, Braden. That was just…you trying to be nice because I happened to be feeling down.” She took a step back and looked at him distrustfully. “Seriously: Are you okay? Do I need to call Marquis or something?”
Now that was just insulting.
Braden looked down at the ground. When he finally raised his head again to meet her gaze, he felt heat envelop his body, and his senses heightened—his eyes narrowed their focus, and his hearing grew more acute. “Why have you been lying to me?” he asked, speaking almost too softly to be heard.
Kristina took a step toward him. “Wow…okay, this conversation really is over.” She gestured toward the hallway, making it crystal clear that she wanted him to step aside so she could leave the room. “Move. Please.”
“I asked why you’ve been lying to me,” he whispered.
She stared at him for a minute and then squared her jaw. “Move, Braden.”
He stood his ground.
She brought both hands up, placed her palms squarely on his chest, and shoved him—hard. “Move!”
Braden dug in his heels, surprised that his body didn’t budge. “Just tell me why—”
“It’s none of your business!” To his absolute shock, she kicked him in the shin with the spike of one heel and elbowed him in the gut, shouting, “I said move!” Her face flushed red. “I’m not playing with you anymore, Braden. You’re acting crazy—like an asshole—and I’ve had enough. Get out of my way!”
He stared at her in shock. He couldn’t believe that Kristina was actually being this mean to him—especially when she was the one who was lying.
Furious, she glared at him and grinded her teeth. “You know what? You’re trying way too hard to act like Marquis these days—you’re not my boss, and you’re not my mate, and you’re never going to be!” Her voice continued to rise with anger. “And in fact, contrary to what you might believe, you’re not a warrior or a wizard yet, either!” She stomped her foot and leaned toward him. “You’re just a fifteen-year-old boy who’s about to get slapped if he doesn’t get out of my way. She was just about to shove him again when all at once he whirled around like an angry lion, a supernatural hunter outmaneuvering its prey.Now, move!”
He locked his right arm tightly around her waist, pressed his chest hard against her back, and gripped her chin with the fingers of his left hand, instinctively tilting her head to the side to expose her jugular. Before she could move or even protest, he released his fangs and pressed them hard against her vein, the sharp tips piercing her skin deeply enough to draw a trickle of blood, and then he growled deep in his throat, issuing a clear, feral warning: “I may be a kid, but I’m still a male.” As power surged through him, he spoke in a harsh, heavily accented voice. “And I am Vampyr.” He bit down ever so slightly while inhaling her scent before slowly adjusting his fangs. “And you will yield.”
Braden heard his own voice as if it belonged to someone else.
Someone older. Someone wiser. Someone far, far more powerful…
As the words drifted around in some ancient, unknown memory, his canines continued to throb with a growing, almost inexplicable need. There was something he wanted. Something he couldn’t name. Or even understand.
Not blood.
Not power—well, not really…
Dominance.
Absolute, unyielding control.
Braden Bratianu wanted to break Kristina’s will and impose his own; he needed to etch his identity into her very DNA for all time so she would never challenge him again. He could not—he would not—have his manhood tested by this female or any other. The very idea of it made him want to drink her blood until she grew weak and limp beneath him, cowering at his superior strength.
The idea of being emasculated by her went against his very evolution.
He may very well be a boy—just fifteen years old—and he may very well be known for all of his mistakes, mishaps, and messes, but he was still a male…and a vampire…and a member of the house of Jadon, and he would not kowtow to the defiant whims of an obstinate woman like a sniveling idiot.
Not now. Not ever.
He tightened his grip, daring her to move or resist.
After what seemed an eternity, Kristina finally swallowed and wet her lips, preparing to speak. “Bray?” Her voice was shaky and unsure.
He closed his eyes and tried to find himself again. To lose the haze.
“Braden?” she repeated his name. “Please…let go.”
At last, her body yielded like a limp noodle. There was no resistance left, whatsoever, and the contrasting reaction from a woman who had just moments ago been so spirited and defiant left him feeling confused and unsure.
He relaxed his arm. “I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely.
“It’s okay.” Her voice was hesitant. “Just…just let me go.” She wrenched her neck free from his teeth.
When he finally pulled away and stepped back—and glanced down at his body just to make sure it was really his—he could have heard a pin drop in the room. Kristina was staring at him like he was an alien; and honestly, he kind of felt like one.
What in the world had come over him?
“I’m sorry, Kristina,” he repeated, appalled. “Did I hurt you?”
She smoothed her clothes and shook her head. “No…no…I’m cool.”
“Are you sure?” He felt like the world’s greatest bully.
“Yeah…yeah, that was just—wow.” She forced an insincere smile. “You’re a trip, you know that? There’s way too much going on with you, I swear.”
Braden nodded. It was true. Every time he turned around, something strange and unexpected popped out; and he didn’t know if it meant that he was becoming more of a vampire—finally growing into the species he had been converted to—or just more of a mess. But jumping all over Kristina? Now that was just crazy. Wrong. And he needed to figure it out before he said or did anything else that might make him act even crazier.
Hanging his head in both shame and bewilderment, he whispered, “You’re not mad at me, are you?”
Kristina shook her head slowly, still staring at him like he had mud on his face…and maybe with a little newfound respect. “No…not really…I mean…” Her voice trailed off, and she reached up to rub he
r neck. When she brought her hand back down, her fingers were coated with a light film of blood.
Braden’s stomach did a strange, queasy flip. “Do you need some venom?” he asked, reaching up to awkwardly feel the edge of an incisor. He wasn’t entirely sure if he could make one come down.
Kristina shook her head. “No…that’s cool, but thanks, I’ve got it.” She turned her head to the side, as if a bit embarrassed, released one of her own incisors, and dripped some venom onto a finger. Then she dabbed the small puncture wounds at her neck and shrugged. “See? All better.”
Braden nodded, and then he looked away, unable to face her. He had never felt so awful in his life. How could he have attacked Kristina? Okay, so attack was too strong a word, but still—despite their differences, and her obvious head-trip over Ramsey, they were supposed to be friends. And with Nachari gone, with the other brothers so busy with their mates or at the clinic, Kristina was really all he had for now.
“I really am sorry,” he said.
Kristina shrugged her shoulders. She stepped forward, approaching tentatively, and slowly wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a gentle hug. “It’s okay, Bray—really. It’s not like we both aren’t still trying to figure out this whole vampire thing, right? The only oddballs converted for reasons other than the Blood Curse.” She released him, stepped back, and smiled. “Besides, in a way it was pretty cool—that you can get all predatory, wild, and stuff like that. Just don’t do it to me again, okay?”
Braden nodded vigorously. “I won’t! I swear it.”
“Cool,” she said, “and drop the third degree? Please?”
Braden frowned. He still had a lot of questions—and he still felt like he deserved honest answers—but he could hardly press her now. After what he’d just done, he would be lucky to keep her friendship. Reluctantly, he nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
“Braden?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He swallowed his pride in an effort to let it go. “I promise I’ll leave you alone.”
