by Elena Lawson
Ethan looked between Frost and I. “Has Frost even asked you yet?”
I swallowed, feeling the throbbing subside even more before I answered him. “What? About this proposition he keeps talking about?”
No one answered.
“No,” I said. “I wanted to wait until we got here, so I could see you all before I made any sort of decision.”
Blake smiled mischievously, his grin making my toes curl. “Good,” he said and wrapped an arm possessively around my waist making my stomach do a little flip. I remembered him being like this with other girls. A bit controlling even as a teenager. Liking them to submit, I thought. He obviously hadn’t changed in that regard, but this was the first time he’d set his sights on me as a target.
I smiled at Blake sheepishly. “Cocky as ever,” I said, a little breathless.
“Hey, it’s only fair,” he said, and I saw his eyes flicker to Frost and back to me.
I chucked a piece of steak at Frost. “You told them?”
I couldn’t believe the bastard told them we’d fucked. I mean, there had never been secrets between us, but he should have at least asked me first, the prick.
Frost tossed the steak back on my plate and smirked. “You’ll be wanting to eat that.”
He was right, of course, and I stabbed it with my fork and popped it into my mouth. “Don’t think just because I slipped up a bit—”
“A lot,” Frost corrected with a glint in his eye.
I grimaced.
“Relax,” Blake said. “I won’t bite unless you ask me too.”
Gulp.
Trying to reign the conversation back in, I flipped back to the reason I was even here. “So, this proposition,” I said, glancing from Frost to Ethan—avoiding Blake entirely. “What is it?”
“We want you to be our blood mate,” Blake rasped in my ear.
“Your what?”
15
I stood from the bar table, the chair dragging back loudly against the tile with a metallic screech. “You don’t mean…” I trailed off, unable to wipe the bitter look from my face or take the saltiness out of my voice.
“Yes,” Ethan said, looking subdued and more than a little sorry—his jaw twitching. “For lack of a better way to explain it—we want you to be our vampire bride.”
Holy fucking shit.
I opened my mouth only to shut it again, so many words at the tip of my tongue vying to be said that I just stammered and stumbled, making undiscernible sounds. Sputtering.
How dare they ask that?
What the hell were they playing at?
They were idiots if they thought that I would actually…
I saw the hurt in Ethan’s eyes as he forced himself to look away. I saw the betrayal in Blake’s. But Frost remained cool as he rose to his full height. “She’s human,” he said, his tone unapproachable. “That changes things.”
Right. I forgot they thought I was already a vampire, and that that was how I was able to hunt them as well as I did. If I was a vampire—which I most certainly am not—then their request wouldn’t seem so out of left field.
“So, you won’t do it, then?” Blake asked, that maniacal glimmer back in his eyes. When I didn’t answer right away, he stood, his stare turning haughty and accusing. “It’s a simple yes or no question, Rose.”
“No,” I breathed, unable to force myself to even consider it. “I’m sorry—I won’t.”
They were asking me to turn. Did they themselves not regret it? How could they ask that of me? Of anyone? To discard their soul without a care and trade in life for an eternity of dark.
Any bit of emotion that was on Ethan’s face vanished. His expression went utterly blank as he turned from the countertop and strode from the room.
“Ethan,” I called after him, watching him grab the knit sweater from the back of the sofa as he went down the hallway. He didn’t turn around, not even after I called his name a second time.
“Give him time to process,” Frost said without any worry or inflection in his voice. “You know how he is.”
I did. I knew how they all were, and yet…I’d never expected this.
Fuck, if they’d asked me to be their human bride, I may have considered it. After getting reacquainted with them, it would probably be the only thing I wanted. To be with them. I could still picture it—even knowing it was impossible.
The images hurt more than I cared to admit.
I understood their request well enough—or as well as I could. I knew little of the intricacies of vampire life, mostly because I spent so much time ending it. But I knew that female vampires were rare. They tended to die during the transformation or if not then shortly after. It was said to be excruciating.
Because the females were so rare, the males who preferred the company of females usually formed a sort of protective group around them. Effectively making the female their queen of sorts. She holds the power because she could easily leave her blood mates and go find another group. They kill for her. They do her bidding. They protect her.
It was why out of all the vampires I’d killed—the number close to the hundred mark—I’d only ever encountered three females. Two were freshly changed and barely knew what was happening to them. The other was a blood mate—and I killed her entire clan that night.
Why they wanted me to be theirs was beyond my comprehension to understand. Hell, why they wanted any female vampire to hold sway over them was beyond me. Why not just live rogue like so many other vampires? Frost said they were intimate with each other, so then why did they even need a female? There was obviously something more to it than I knew.
“You don’t have to make a decision now,” Frost said.
I opened my mouth to object. I wanted to tell him that I would never agree. I didn’t want any of them thinking it could be a possible eventuality. But he stopped me with a raised hand and stern look.
“We may need to rethink things, too,” he said, eyeing Blake who had stolen Frost’s whiskey and was now draining the glass dry, clearly pissed. “I’ve taken her blood,” Frost told Blake, and I realized he hadn’t shared that part of our intimacy until now.
Blake gaped at Frost. Was that jealousy I saw in his eyes?
“She was able to replenish it within minutes, maybe even faster than that. And so long as she’s well-fed and hydrated, we know she heals other wounds fairly quick, too. She’s strong and fast. Her senses must be nearly to the level of ours…” he trailed off, letting Blake fill in blanks.
Blake nodded as though understanding what Frost was getting at.
I, on the other, hand, wasn’t getting it. I was hopelessly lost. “I’m sorry,” I said. “What are you two talking about? I’m not following.”
Frost looked at me apologetically. “Rosie, other than having sharp teeth and the need for blood, you might as well be one already.”
I choked trying to formulate a response. “No. That’s not true.”
Blake sighed. “Afraid it is, love. Frost is right. Those are all vampire traits.”
“That isn’t the only thing,” Frost added. “I almost couldn’t control the urge to drain her.” From the way he said it, as though surprised, I got the sense that he wasn’t joking about teaching himself rigid control. “And after I fed from her, I…” he trailed off, and I scrunched my brows, trying to read his awestruck expression.
“You what, Frost?” Blake asked, peering between the two of us like I had any idea what the hell he was talking about.
Frost’s river-green eyes flitted up to meet mine, and then Blakes. “I’ve never felt stronger. I haven’t had even a lick of thirst since, either.”
Blake seemed to be mulling over what he said, but I wasn’t really paying attention to them anymore. I was thinking that it was just my fucking luck that my blood would be like some supernatural battery acid for them. Of course, it was. Until Frost bit me the other night, no other fangs had ever pierced my flesh. There were close calls, but I’d never been bitten until Frost.
<
br /> “Do you think that’s why Rafe…?” Blake asked Frost in a voice filled with quiet rage.
Rafe? Was Rafe the same as the Raphael Frost had mentioned a few nights back?
“Who are you talking about?”
Neither answered. Their mouths shutting with near audible sounds.
I glanced between them. Why weren’t they answering me?
Fed up, I shoved my plate away and stood, pulling my robe tighter around myself. “I need a shower,” I announced. “And when I come back out, you better be ready to tell me exactly what it is I’m missing because clearly there’s more you aren’t telling me.”
I left them to sit stunned at the countertop as I made for the entrance to the hallway across the room. “And save me some goddamn whiskey,” I hollered back at the sound of a screw cap being lifted from a glass bottle.
I was going to need it.
16
The blood, dirt, and grime of the last twenty-four hours ran from my skin as scalding water cascaded over me. the droplets of pink and varying shades of brown and gray mingled along their path down my body, creating a morbid work of art before they were swirled away. Swallowed up by the metal maw of the shower drain. I sighed at the warmth—and the sense of being totally clean that I hadn’t had in weeks.
Hell, after a motel shower sometimes I felt I was even more dirty.
But this? This was fucking bliss. The bathroom I found a couple doors down from my bedroom was fit for a queen. With pyramids of plush white towels and fancy soaps. Marble floors and countertops. Gold faucets and drawer handles. A claw-footed soaker tub that I had been tempted to bathe in but thought better of it. I was far too dirty for a bath. Instead I decided the glass box at the edge of the room looked just as tempting with its rain-head shower jutting out the top, and the steam settings on a panel on the wall inside.
I was right. It was glorious. I took my time, wondering how long it would be before all the hot water was gone. I’d wager it’d have taken all day, judging by the layout of the condo and the wide covered windows—it was a big building. I could have stayed in there for hours, but after only about thirty minutes there was a knock at the door, and I figured I should hurry up.
It might’ve been the only bathroom in the building. Vamps didn’t need to go as much as humans, hardly at all, but they did still function in those regions.
“I’ll be right out,” I hollered, a little more acid in my voice than I intended. They better have a glass of whiskey ready for me…
The frigid air outside the door after the steamy heat of the fancy ass shower made me shivered as I tip toed across the cool tile to grab a towel, leaving little wet footprints against the black-and-white checkered floor.
I tugged the towel around me and used a second one to dry my hair as best I could as I made my way back over to the door, careful to avoid the slippery pools of water I’d created all over the place.
I opened the door and a billowing cloud of steam exited with me, evaporating in the empty hallway. Fuck, and I thought was cold in the bathroom? It was freezing out here. I pulled the towel tighter around myself, shivering as my body adjusted to the massive temperature difference.
Who the hell was knocking?
I listened for noise but couldn’t hear much of anything. My ears still filled with the whirring sound of the exhaust fan in the bathroom.
“Hey.”
My elbow connected with taut tissue and bone and there was a grunt and a stomp before I realized I elbowed Frost in the chest. His jaw clenched as he rose from his hunched position to his full height, his eyes and forehead straining with the effort of trying to hide his obvious pain and discomfort. He looked constipated. I almost laughed.
“You really shouldn’t sneak up on people like that,” I said with a smile in my voice, barely contained laughter bubbling to the surface.
“Noted,” he replied, his voice breathy and tight.
I snorted.
Wincing, Frost jerked his head down the hallway, toward a door that was standing open close to the end. It was the room I’d woken up in, or at least, I thought it was. There were so many doors in this place. The door was cracked open, and it seemed someone had found the light switch after all. A warm ivory glow poured out onto the hardwood.
“The sun set about a half hour ago,” Frost said, and I stared at him agape. How long had I been out? It wasn’t even sunrise when I passed out the day before. “Ethan went and got your duffle for you. It’s in the room there so you can change.”
“And then we’ll talk?” I asked, giving him a hard look. I needed more answers. The dots were starting to connect themselves in my head, or trying to, but it was hard to connect dots when half the ones you needed to form the picture were missing entirely.
Frost nodded solemnly. “And then we’ll talk.”
I nodded and couldn’t help myself as I leaned up on tip toe and kissed him on the cheek. The skin was smooth—velvety. He must’ve had time to shave since we arrived here. “Thank you,” I told him. “For bringing me here.”
And for so much more I can’t find the words to say.
I hoped he knew how much all of this meant to me. I’d never been good at talking about this sort of thing. My half-assed thank-you was all he would get. But this was Frost. I’d be lucky to get half as much from him if the situation were reversed.
“Welcome,” he said low and throaty, making my throat dry and my pulse pick up.
How the hell did he have that effect on me?
Before I could decide to jump him right there in the hallway, I blinked away the haze of desire, shook my head, and hurried in the opposite direction down the hall and into the room near the end, closing the door behind me.
I leaned my head against it, breathing heavy, my palm pressed flat against the woodgrain. Get a grip, Rose! I told myself. How was I supposed to make any sort of rational decision when—
“Found this in your bag,” a smoky voice said from behind me, the low cadence slinking across the small space, making my stomach muscles tighten.
I whirled around, clenching the towel to myself, sending a spray of water against the wall from my long hair as it whipped out around me.
“Wow,” Blake said, raising a hand from the bowl-like armchair he was slouched in. “It’s just me.” He wiped a few small drops of water from his face where I splashed him, his eyes hot and hungry. Oh shit. “I’m supposed to be the one getting you all wet,” he purred.
Oh no he didn’t.
“What are you—” I started, but then I noticed what he was holding in his other hand. The long, thick, veiny piece of deep purple silicone. “Mr. Dickins!” I exclaimed, rushing over to snatch him back from the clutches of his captor.
“Mr. Dickins?” Blake asked, a rare smile lighting up his face. “Really, Rose? You named your vibrator?”
He held it up and out of my reach, back behind his head so I would have to practically lay across him to get it. I knew what he was playing at. I stopped just shy of crawling onto his lap. “Give. Him. Back.”
“Oh, so it’s a him now, is it?”
What was he trying to do? Hadn’t he been pissed at me before I left to get into the shower? Now he was… what? Taunting me? Teasing me?
Bastard.
Well two could play at that game. “What? Jealous, Blake?” I asked, a hand on my toweled hip. “Is my Mr. Dickins making you feel insecure?”
By all rights, Mr. Dickins wasn’t huge. A respectable six inches. But from the shit lays I’d had before Frost, I knew finding one over five inches could be difficult. I mean, sure, size isn’t everything.
In fact, five inches could be perfect if used effectively. But most had no idea how to please a woman.
Blake’s eyes widened infinitesimally before he tossed Mr. Dickins on the bed—my chargeable boyfriend forgotten for the moment. “I should spank you for that,” he growled, and I saw a flash of real fury in his gaze, mingling with something more like lust.
Oh.
I resisted the urge to tell him to go right ahead. Rose could use a good spanking.
I’d always wondered how Blake’s particular brand of romance would shape him as an adult. Now I got the feeling I knew. And suddenly this all made sense. This was his apology. Like me, Blake wasn’t good at those kinds of words. But I bet I knew what he was good at…
I cleared my throat, my face warming. Fuck, did someone turn up the heat in this place? Wasn’t I freezing like two seconds ago?
“Didn’t your—um—mother ever tell you it’s rude to… to go through a woman’s things?” I stuttered, stepping back a foot or two away from him so I could catch my breath.
My eyes roved over his black suit jacket, admiring how it was tight in the crease of his elbows, the buttons undone to show a tapered middle in a thin white t-shirt. Black ink peeking out from his cuffs and covering the tiny bit of smooth flesh where his t-shirt was riding up, showing that deeply dipping V that disappeared below his waistline.
When I looked up, he was smirking at me, pleased with my reaction to him. His dark obsidian eyes glinting in the light of the canvas covered lamp hanging a few paces behind where he sat.
“Not that I recall,” Blake crooned, way too amused for my liking.
“Smart ass,” I retorted, and had been about to bend to retrieve my bag when he rose from the chair. He cleared the space between us in a fraction of a second. And then he was towering over me, his eyes blazing down into my soul.
His hand came around my jaw, rough, and yet soft. Vying for dominance but allowing room for me to deny him. His thumb brushed along my chin as he leaned in. His lips were only a breath away from mine as he whispered, “The things I’d like to do to that smart mouth of yours.”
I shivered, my body responding to him before my mind could catch up. My back arching and chin tipping up, trying to reach him. To taste him.
