AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His eyes changed, his pupils mere pinpricks of black against the swirling quicksilver of his irises.
He began moving forward, pushing me backward, and he didn't stop until my back was literally against the brick wall of the atrium.
Before I could object, his hands were on my face, his mouth against mine. His lips pulled at my mouth, kissing me hungrily, greedily.
In some satellite part of my brain, it occurred to me that it was odd that Ethan was kissing me in someone else's House. And yet, even as I thought it was weird, my blood began to warm and boil with a heat I'd never experienced before. It itched beneath my skin, adrenaline pushing through my veins as if I were still midbattle with the Grey House vampires.
"Ethan," I managed, calling his name in warning, even while I let him kiss me there in the middle of Grey House. He changed tactics and kissed me slowly, languorously, before finally opening his eyes and looking at me. There was an apology in his eyes.
"Something is . . . wrong."
I nodded my head, knowing that he'd meant this wasn't just love or lust, but a different kind of force, but the thought was distant, and the burning need was here and now.
It was immediate.
Intense.
I rolled my head to the side, my eyelids fluttering, the invitation overt.
"Do you need something from me?" His voice was low, more like the warning growl of a tiger than the question of a vampire.
I swallowed . . . and nodded. I felt like a teenager at a first dance. I didn't know the music, wasn't savvy to the steps, but the emotions were so basic, so fundamental, that it wasn't possible to dance them incorrectly.
Ethan lifted a hand to my neck, the bare touch of his fingertips nearly buckling my knees. And before I could ask why he was apologizing, he kissed me. His kiss was firm, insistent, and questing. He moved closer, wrapping his arms around my back and deepening the kiss. His tongue explored as he pressed harder against me, the sudden length of his unmistakable erection pressing against my stomach.
I should have been shocked. Should have reminded him that this was neither the time nor the place, that we'd seen how bad things could get. But with each possessive rumble in his throat, our own magics twined together. I was drawn in - by the magic, by the kiss, by the possessive bite of his fingers. I pulled him toward me, my fingers slipping into the belt loops on his trousers, and leaned up to deepen the kiss. I was as hungry for him as I'd ever been for blood, but this hunger was now. It was immediate, and it demanded to be sated.
Love was a dangerous drug.
Oh, God. That was it. Ethan wasn't overpowered by love or lust or the sudden, romance-novel-esque realization that He Had to Have Me Now. This was unprompted aggression, albeit of a slightly different variety than we'd seen before. . . .
"Ethan, I think we've been drugged."
He ignored me, instead growling and tangling his fingers into my hair. My heart tripped, not out of lust this time, but out of fear, because the growl had changed, become meaner.
I switched tactics, giving him a telepathic order that I hoped would push through the haze of drugs to the part of his brain that was still functioning. Ethan, stop.
He lifted his head, and I saw the conflict in his eyes. His brain ordered him to stop, but his body was propelling him forward - evidenced by his eyes. They were nearly all silver.
"What?" he asked.
"I think we've been drugged. Someone slipped us V. Maybe in the food?"
A wave of hot, itchy anger rushed through me.
I squeezed my eyes shut and my fingers into fists, pressing until the pain in my palms helped slow the spinning of my mind.
"The anger found a different outlet," he said, his voice hoarse. "Perhaps a different dose. Maybe in one of the meats?"
I shook my head. "The wine," I answered. "I think it was in the wine. It had an odd taste.
Really, really bitter."
"Who else drank the wine?"
I thought back. I'd had wine, as had Ethan.
And the only other person who'd had wine was Jonah. But I was saved the trouble of telling Ethan.
We both looked up as Jonah burst through the foliage in front of us. His eyes, already silver, became fierce as he stared Ethan down.
"It isn't nice not to share."
Ethan growled, low in his throat, a warning to Jonah. "I don't share."
Jonah clucked his tongue. "You should. Life is so much more interesting, don't you think, when all of us get a taste?" I'd heard of girls being thrilled to be fought over before, but I didn't like feeling like a piece of property.
"I'm no one's to offer up," I said.
"But you could do so much better," was Jonah's retort.
It's just V, I silently reminded Ethan. He had the wine, too.
"Regardless the cause, he'd best behave himself," Ethan gritted out. He stared Jonah down, fangs bared. They were nearly the same height, close to the same build. Ethan was fairer than Jonah, but they'd have made equally matched opponents, if not for Ethan's position, which surely would have reaped Jonah more trouble than the fight would have been worth.
"Jonah," I warned, standing up, as well. "Back off."
But instead of backing off, he bared his fangs at Ethan, hissing in warning that he'd found a prize and didn't plan to give it up.
I wasn't sure where the sudden interest had come from, but seriously doubted it had anything to do with me. More likely, Jonah had been drawn in by the magic that Ethan and I had spilled into the room. And in classic V fashion, he'd become unreasonably angry.
"Jonah, come on," I urged. "You need to back off. You don't want to fight a Master, especially not when Darius is here."
My voice was pleading, and he threw me a glance. His brows were drawn together, as if he was trying to puzzle out exactly why he was standing in the atrium, ready to fight for a girl he'd only recently come to respect, much less actually like.
But Ethan apparently hadn't noticed the self-reflection, and took a menacing step forward. "She is mine."
Jonah shook off rationality and faced him down. "That decision is hers to make, and it doesn't look like she's made it yet."
"She sure as f**k won't be choosing you,"
Ethan growled out.
Jonah lifted his arm. My own instincts kicked in, protecting Ethan at the top of my list.
"Step back, Jonah," I warned him, but he still hadn't managed to push through the V. He cocked back to swing. I reached forward to pull him off, but he swung blindly out. As if time had slowed down, I watched his fist move toward me, a swat to push me away. He made contact.
The lights went out.
