Her dark blue eyes flashed with anger, and her soft, full lips twisted into an unflattering scowl. “Except,” she snarled, “I once lived outside.” She stepped toward him, baring her fangs at him, as she hissed, “The sheep were given more space in the disgusting barn than I was. Or have you forgotten about that?”
“How could I,” Erik asked, “when you constantly remind everyone?”
Her anger seemed to vanish, all at once, replaced by an expression of heartbrokenness and betrayal. She stepped back, her thin, delicate shoulders dropping, and her gaze shifting toward the ground. Her dark blue eyes glistened with tears. “Am I supposed to just forget? Is it supposed to just…stop hurting?”
Erik sighed. It was impossible not to sympathize with her when he could literally feel her pain. He stepped forward and gathered her into his arms. He held her tightly as she sobbed against him, her tears soaking into his shirt. He buried his face in her pale blonde hair, inhaling her familiar, comforting scent. “Alana,” he breathed. “I know it still hurts, but what you’re doing won’t help.”
“It will help!” she cried, pushing him away. “This world is wrong!”
“And you think war will fix it?” Erik asked incredulously.
Alana lifted her chin, her dark blue eyes glinting with coldness, despite the tears streaming down her cheeks. “No. War is the human way of fixing things. Therefore, it seems appropriate that it should be the source of their extinction.”
“And what about vampires?” he asked. “Do you think we’re not evil?”
“Vampires didn’t create slavery,” she explained.
“We were once humans, too, you know,” Erik reminded her.
“Not me,” Alana said bitterly. “I was never human. I was just an object.”
He sighed, looking away as he felt her deep emotional pain. “You met Rose, right?” he asked, imploring Alana to understand. “Did you know that a vampire hurt her? He tortured her, left scars all over her… He tried to rape her.”
“I know,” she said. “And if he were still alive, I would make him suffer.”
Erik nodded. “I know you would,” he sighed. He moved closer to her and rested his hands on her arms, “Just like I know that you mean well when you do these things. But Alana, the things you’re doing right now are wrong.”
“That’s your opinion,” she said dismissively.
“No, that’s common sense!” he argued, exasperated.
“This isn’t up for discussion,” she said, turning toward the doorway. “Now, come to my room and have sex with me before I decide to kill you instead.” She stepped into the bedroom. “I assume you would prefer sex.”
“What gave you that idea?” Erik muttered dryly.
He followed her into the bright, spacious bedroom, watching the way her lacy, white dress curved to her form as she walked. When she spun back toward him, lifting her eyebrows expectantly, he made a show of assessing the room. His boots thudded against the white, marble floor as he circled the huge room, wincing at the brightness of the white walls, dragging his hand along the plush, white bedding, wrinkling his nose at a collection of creepy, porcelain dolls.
“Those were already there,” Alana said. “They belonged to the wife.”
He glanced back at her. “And what exactly happened to…the wife?”
“She’s being held prisoner,” she said, smiling as if she were proud of herself for holding an innocent woman hostage, “in exchange for her husband’s cooperation. It’s the kind of thing Kara would do. See? I learned a lot from her.”
Erik frowned. “Alana,” he began tiredly, “Kara wouldn’t actually hold an innocent woman hostage. She would tell the man that she’s holding his wife hostage while, in reality, she is making sure no harm comes to either of them.”
Alana waved her hand dismissively. “Close enough.”
He sighed, once again giving up on his attempt to reason with her. He turned toward the dresser, his brows furrowing, as he picked up a bulky, leather-bound book of erotic poetry. The pages had separated from the spine and looked as if they were going to dissolve into dust at any moment. “I remember this book,” he said, scanning the Old English words. “Kara bought you this.”
“It’s falling apart,” Alana complained. “She should get me a new one.”
Erik laughed, “It’s over a thousand years old, Alana. There aren’t any new ones.” He gently returned the book to its place on the glossy, white dresser and turned back toward her. “Gifts… I forgot how much they meant to you.”
Alana shrugged shyly. “It strange to have someone give you something without wanting anything in return,” she explained. “It just…confuses me.”
“It makes you happy,” he corrected, returning to her. He lifted his hand and touched her face affectionately. “It’s so tragic that happiness confuses you.”
“I have hundreds of blue orchids in the greenhouses out back,” she said.
He blinked in shock. “How long have you been planning all of this?”
“Forever, really,” she answered, shrugging, “but I’ve only been living in this house for two years. I persuaded a botanist to grow the orchids for me.”
“Persuaded?” Erik asked skeptically.
“I forced him to do it,” Alana explained, “using telepathic control.”
He nodded. “I’m supposed to kill you,” he said suddenly.
“I know. I can see your thoughts,” she informed him.
“And you still brought me to your room?” he asked, frowning.
“Yes. Because I also know that you don’t want to kill me,” she said.
Erik sighed, “I don’t think I can. I still love you.”
Alana leaned into him, her soft body pressing against him. She slid her arms around his neck and pulled his face closer to hers. Her lips curved into a seductive smile. “Then, maybe, instead of killing me, you should undress me.”
His green eyes darkened with lust. “That does sound more appealing.”
“Besides,” she whispered against his lips, “I know that you’re hungry.”
“Starving,” he corrected, his voice breathless with hunger and desire. He moved his face to her neck, inhaling her appealing scent. “I need blood.”
“Of course you do,” Alana giggled, stepping back, out of his arms. Her dark blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “You starved yourself for twelve hundred years, and then, I gave you a taste of my blood. My sweet, powerful blood.”
His mouth watered at the thought. “You’re so cruel,” he growled.
“No, darling,” she said, a smile curving at the corners of her lips. “Cruel would be denying you the blood you so desperately need. I would never do that.”
Erik took a step toward her as the ravenous hunger began to overtake his conscious thoughts. “I need blood. Please, let me feed from you,” he begged.
Alana put her finger in her mouth, purposely slicing her fingertip with one of her fangs. She held out her finger, the drop of blood glistening on top of it, and she walked backward, luring him toward the bed. “Do you want this?”
He stared hungrily at the blood. “Yes,” he growled. “Please. I need it.”
Alana giggled at the feral look in his eyes, amused that she’d drawn out the animalistic hunger so easily. She sat down on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over the other. She lifted her hand and licked the blood off of her finger herself, earning a whimper of frustration from Erik. “You can have as much of my blood as you want, of course,” she offered, “but you’ll make love to me first.”
Erik grinned. “I was already planning on it.”
—
When Rose heard the door open, she sighed and reluctantly placed her bookmark—a thin piece of cardboard with the words, “Talk nerdy to me,” printed on the front, the corners bent from overuse—in the book to hold her page. She set the horror novel aside and scowled at the person standing in the doorway.
“It looks like you’re feeling better,” Aaron said as he en
tered the room.
“I don’t remember inviting you inside,” Rose complained.
Aaron sat down in the office chair, leaning forward and angling the chair toward her. “The Tomb of Blood belongs to me, which means that this room belongs to me. Which means…I don’t need your permission to enter it.”
Rose pursed her lips. “What if I had been getting dressed?”
He snorted, “It wouldn’t be anything I hadn’t seen before.”
“Well, you haven’t seen me naked before,” she muttered indignantly. Then, frowning, she added, “Wait, you haven’t, have you? I don’t remember much about last night. Or tonight, for that matter. Everything’s been pretty hazy.”
His lips twitched. “No, you were still fully-dressed when you were grinding your hips all over me last night,” he assured her, his lips curving upward into an actual grin.
Rose might have been surprised by the sight, if she weren’t so horrified.
He laughed at her expression. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
“I was not…grinding…on anyone,” she muttered, “whatever that means.”
He gave a half-hearted shrug. “Believe what you will.”
“I’m not feeding from you again,” Rose told him, “just so you know.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I wasn’t planning to offer you my blood again,” he informed her with a condescending laugh. “Last night was a once-in-an-eternity thing. That is…unless you’d like to offer some form of repayment…”
“Excuse me?” she snapped, her eyes widening.
With a swiftness that Rose could barely see, Aaron slid out of the chair and leaned over her, his knee braced against the bed. Rose leaned back against the headboard, scowling at his closeness, trying to ignore the way her body reacted to the intense, powerful scent of his blood. He braced his fists against the mattress, holding his weight. Everything about his posture seemed animalistic, and for a moment, Rose wondered if he were planning to bite her.
His unruly, black curls fell forward over his forehead as he leaned closer to her. “I’m four thousand years old, Rose,” he growled. “I know how a blood bond works. You can pretend to not want me, if you want, but I know the truth.”
Rose narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re as manipulative as Alana is.”
A hint of amusement flashed in his dark, obsidian eyes. “Who do you think she learned it from?” he growled, an arrogant smirk tugging at his lips.
Before she’d become a vampire, Rose learned that vampires could use blood bonds to manipulate people. It was what Theron had done to Kallias’s wife, Phoebe. And now, Rose understood it fully. Because…despite her negative feelings toward Aaron, her body responded to him now. The scent of his blood enticed her, called out to her, lured her into him. Her gaze traced its way down his body, from the black curls that hung over his face, down to the navy-blue T-shirt that clung to his lean form and complimented his dark, tawny skin, down to the tight jeans that hugged his hips and legs. She’d never hated him, honestly. As manipulative and power-hungry as he was, she still believed there was good in him…somewhere deep, deep, deep down. But that didn’t mean she liked him.
“It’s not something you can help,” Aaron said. “I’m part of you now.”
“That’s…disturbing,” Rose muttered. She exhaled slowly, trying her best to avoid breathing in his scent. Her eyes flashed defiantly. “You can try to manipulate me if you want, but I guarantee you: my will is stronger than yours.”
Aaron chuckled at that, and then, thankfully, he stepped back and sat back down, leaning back in the office chair. Rose breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he was no longer within reach. “So,” he said, his lips twitching upward at the corners, “why are you doing so much better tonight? Does it have something to do with that human that Kara snuck down here? That tall, brunette woman?”
“Liv was her name,” Rose provided, frowning. “You knew about that?”
He shrugged. “I saw her and Elise on the cameras as they were leaving. Elise isn’t as good as sneaking someone out as Kara is at sneaking them in.”
Rose swallowed uneasily. “Did you say anything to Kara about it?”
“You’re worried she’ll be in trouble for helping you?” he asked.
“I don’t want anything to happen to her,” she admitted quietly.
Aaron nodded. “I know. I’m aware of your feelings for her,” he stated, as if it were a fact and not something that could be questioned. Before she could object, he continued, “Kara’s always been this way. She loves to break the rules.”
“So,” she said, swallowing uneasily, “you’re okay with what she did?”
“No,” he said, shrugging, “but I need her too much. I can’t kill her.”
“The woman she brought down was a doctor,” Rose explained. She pulled her shirt up just a little, revealing about an inch of the new bandages. “She redressed my wound and gave me some medicine to fight the infection.” She frowned. “Well…she gave me her blood, actually, after she injected the medicine into herself. Kara and Liv figured that I would heal faster if my body didn’t have to fight an infection on top of the blood loss and the gaping hole in my chest.”
Aaron lifted his eyebrows. “Clearly, they were right.”
“Yeah,” Rose said with a weak smile. “I can even move now. Kind of.”
He nodded. “Your heartbeat is much stronger than it was last night.”
“Kara’s friend also gave me some pain medicine,” she mumbled, frowning, “and I think that I might have said some embarrassing things to Kara.”
Aaron snorted. “Because of a little bit of human medicine?”
Rose scowled at his teasing. “Keep in mind that I have never drunk alcohol in my life, and I only take medication when forced,” she said defensively.
“Hmm,” Aaron said, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully.
“What does that mean?” she asked worriedly. “What are you thinking?”
“Let me guess,” he said. “Someone in your life was an addict.”
Rose’s skin turned a shade paler. “How did you know that?”
“Do I have to keep reminding you how old I am?” Aaron asked, his dark eyes dancing with amusement. “I’ve become very good at reading people.”
“Ugh,” she complained, tilting her head back and groaning at the ceiling. “Why is it that every vampire I meet seems to be able to see right through me?”
He chuckled at her. “Because you’ve met two telepaths, one empath, a very cunning rogue, and an ancient vampire with four millennia of experience.”
She grunted irritably, “Why are you in here? You interrupted my book.”
He raised a dark eyebrow. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”
Rose narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Why?”
“Because I’d rather you not die,” Aaron stated simply.
She nodded in understanding. “Because I’m your nuclear weapon.”
He snorted at the analogy. “Hopefully.”
“I have a question,” Rose said, tilting her head to the side, her messy, auburn waves falling over her shoulder. “What did you dream about earlier?”
His smile faded. “Excuse me?” he growled.
“I felt you,” she said, not even flinching under his furious gaze, “earlier today, while you were sleeping. I could feel that you were having a nightmare.”
“This is exactly why I don’t let anyone feed from me,” he muttered.
“Is it because you’re afraid that someone might find out that you have nightmares,” Rose asked, undeterred by his irritation at her, “or…is it because you’re afraid that someone might find out what your nightmares are about?”
His black eyes flashed with rage. “I should go,” he growled.
“You were afraid,” she continued to pry, “but you also felt guilt.”
He stood and started toward the door, determined to ignore her.
“You can’t talk to anyone about ho
w you feel,” Rose called out, causing him to stop mid-step, “because you have to maintain an image of fearlessness and invulnerability. You can’t compromise your ability to intimidate people. That is your path to power, after all. So, you bottle it all up inside and pretend it doesn’t exist. But everyone has to talk to someone. Even you. So, you might as well talk to me…since the blood bond already shattered your façade anyway.”
Aaron turned toward her. “It was about Alana,” he said reluctantly.
“You felt guilty about…Alana?” she asked with a puzzled frown.
“I had a chance to kill her once,” he explained vaguely, “and I didn’t.”
Rose nodded. “Because you decided to turn her into a vampire, instead?”
His dark eyes widened. He quickly crossed the space between them. “How did you know that?” he asked quietly, as if he were afraid that someone might overhear them. “How did you know that I was the one who turned her?”
She watched him curiously. “I didn’t. It was just an educated guess.”
He leaned back on his heels, his brows furrowing. “Oh.”
“You said that you knew her scent,” Rose began, “which means you’ve shared blood with her at some point. But whatever happened between the two of you couldn’t have lasted long. Because two days after she became a vampire, she’d already moved on to Kara. Then, there’s also the fact that you’re one of the few vampires here who is actually older than Alana. It would explain why you feel responsible for her, and it would also explain why you coddled her…”
“I never coddled her,” Aaron objected, his eyes narrowing.
Rose offered him a skeptical smile. “You allowed her to live here for over a hundred years, despite the fact that she was slaughtering villages, torturing other vampires that lived here, and challenging your authority. You coddled her.”
His jaw tightened. “You’re pissing me off,” he informed her.
“I know,” she laughed, smiling. “I can feel it.”
Aaron growled in frustration and walked back to the office chair, his tennis shoes squeaking louder than usual against the floor. He sat down and leaned toward her, pointing at her threateningly. “Do not repeat a word of this.”
The Tomb of Blood Page 47
