For the second time, she’d somehow plucked a cord of guilt inside me I was not aware even existed. It rang out, vibrating through my body, urging me to take back my biting words, or wrap her in my arms until I could quiet whatever thoughts now tormented her.
I had been harsh. Too harsh. Was I telling her all this for her sake? Or was I trying to convince myself that she was nothing?
She could never mean anything to me. It did not matter how different she was from the vampires I’d once faced, or the billions of souls I’d encountered. I could not allow myself to believe she was special.
Yet, I already do.
The glow around her called to me, invited me to step into her space and claim her in a way I’d never permitted myself to in all my existence. More than her ethereal aura that dazzled, Vivien’s vivacious spirit was positively arresting. I wanted to kiss that smart mouth; swallow whatever inflammatory witticism she was spouting off.
Instead, I clenched my fists at my side to keep from reaching out to her.
The vampire is bait, and nothing more. Her existence shall not be permitted. You know the others would never allow her to roam the earth.
My duty to protect this world was more important than eyes that sparked green fire, a sharp wit, and a mouth I couldn’t stop thinking about. There was no choice in the matter. As soon as I contained the vampire situation, I would eliminate her.
Only when my phone rang did Vivien emerge from her inward, haunted expression.
I took the call. It was brief.
“Time to go,” I said, hanging up. “Your master has struck again.”
For once, she didn’t fight me. She walked to the elevator, and this time we stood at opposite ends as we hastened to what I expected was a trap set for Vivien. Perhaps this would all be over before the night was out, and my sekhor problem would be solved.
Eyeing Vivien out of the corner of my eye, my chest tightened.
9
While Grim cast his hard stare out the window, Timothy kept occupied on the far end of the limo with his tablet per usual.
Is the limo smaller than the last time?
Nope, same size, but traveling in silence, trapped in a vehicle with his majesty, was making it hard to avoid certain thoughts.
The memory of Grim pressed against me in the elevator warmed me a good twenty degrees. I’d felt his hard sculpted abs even through our clothes. His hot breath fanned against my ear as his delicious scent surrounded me, a cloud of sexually charged opium.
And those rich, amber eyes were dangerous and seductive. His stare was so intent, I worried his scrutiny would melt my panties right off my body…had I been wearing any.
Pinned against the wall, a needy ache had pounded hard through my center, developing a mind of its own. It’d urged to me to slide and buck against his hard thigh. Knowing there was nothing but his pant leg and my skirt trapped against my sex sent electric zings of anticipation to my already tight nipples before pinballing back downward with a flood of hot, wet want.
It wasn’t only his physical prowess that had turned me on and inside-out. There was something in Grim’s eyes, an almost desperate hunger. It was the look of a prisoner straining for freedom, as something inside him yearned to come out. Everything about Grim was heavy and serious, but there was a light inside him. I wanted to coax it out of him. My gut told me it wanted to come out and play with me.
I had been frozen in place, scared I would succumb to all my urges at once. And they were all screaming at me as if through a loudspeaker.
Wriggle. Grind. Kiss. Lick. Suck.
Was Grim aware that he was sex on a stick? Because my body had been ready as hell to jump on that rod and take a long, hard ride.
The desire had hit me so intensely, it reminded me of my thirst for blood. And while I desperately wanted to give in, I refused to let my cha-cha lead the way. I was crazy, not stupid. If Grim didn’t smack me down in refusal within seconds, he’d likely laugh at how pitiful I was—a loathsome bloodsucker trying to nail a being as old as time and as powerful as a god.
So, I gave into only one of my urges.Lick.
When I tongued his palm, tasting salty skin, his dark, lust-filled gaze drained of all hunger, leaving disgust in its wake. I’d done an expert job defusing the situation. I deserved a ribbon.
And right now, I could use some ice; sitting mere feet from the scowling being inspired too many distracting, lust-filled thoughts. As soon as the limo stopped, I nearly jumped to get out of the car.
It took me all of two seconds to realize where we were. We’d parked by the alley where my body had been dumped. A chill swept through me that had nothing to do with temperature or my thirst. Darkness blanketed the alley, but I could see into the gloom where a man lay dead. The flesh where his shoulder and neck met was torn up and chewed on, in an all-too-familiar fashion. It was Chad. He stared up into the night with empty, sightless eyes. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.
Before I’d left the hospital, I’d found copies of the police photos of my corpse in the morgue. The murderer had arranged Chad in a copycat position. He lay on his back, one leg bent at an unnatural angle and staring up at the sky. Like someone broke him, then tossed him aside like a piece of useless garbage, a discarded banana peel.
