The passenger side door shuts and I see them wave one last time before Gray is going full throttle through the parking lot to the exit.
“Buckle up,” he says. “We’ve got a long drive.”
I pull the seat belt over my chest and click it in place. “Yeah, about that. Why are we going all this way to see a witch when we have a perfectly fine one here?”
“Jill is good, but she can’t do what it is I’m asking for.”
Perplexed, I press him for more. “And what are you asking for?”
Gray taps the gas and speeds forward. “I’m going to make you my thrall, Millie.”
“You are?” I sound way more excited than I probably should, but I don’t think he notices. Or maybe he’s choosing not to address it. His expression is inscrutable at first glance, but I can take a guess. This wasn’t a decision he made lightly, that’s for sure, and as much as I don’t want to admit it, there’s still some physical tension between us that’s lingering. That cold-shouldering he gave me earlier wasn’t just for show.
“I am.” He makes a sharp turn right, and I sway a little in my seat. “But before we make that bond, I’m going to make sure you remainyou. The witch can help with that.”
Who would have thought?
“Not to sound like I’m second-guessing or anything, but what changed your mind? You were totally against this.”
Gray stops at a red light and looks at me. At Dax’s, he appeared rough, bordering on sick-Victorian-child. Here in the darkness of the car, with the soft light of the street lamps and traffic signals, I can just make out the shape of his face and the softened silhouette of his features. By all accounts, he looks like any other healthy vampire. I would bet that by the time I showered and met him down at the car, he had snagged himself a sweet little AB juice box somewhere.
Whatever it was, I’m glad he’s got some color back in his scarlet eyes.
“This most recent attack,” he says matter-of-fact.
I go silent, and so does the car. The air feels heavy with the unspoken thoughts and feelings he isn’t sharing. I can feel the guilt and shame and frustration in each syllable as he speaks.
“There are few things I remember as vividly or vibrantly as the fear I felt in finding you broken on the floor like that.” Gray chokes on the words, as if he’s been run-through with the sharpened edge of his own anxieties. I squeeze his leg, but am met with nothing, despite wanting to comfort him.
I suck in a deep breath, chilled by the steely tone in his voice.
He goes on, “I don’t want to cage you, or force you to stay by my side at all times. That isn’t fair. I want you to feel confident and safe on your own, but I can’t give that back to you without some modicum of personal sacrifice. So, I’ve resolved to make you my thrall. My power will be your power.”
“I won’t lie”—I suppress a shudder at the mention of power,hispower—“I do like the sound of that.”
Gray scoffs. “Yes, well, it was this or I go back to my tower and confine myself for another century.”
“And let some other bimbo trip over your dusty ass? I think not.”
Gray laughs out loud, finally shedding some of his pent-up tension. I can’t help but join him, doubling over in my seat as I let myself lose it a little. The sound of our laughter ringing together in the car is the best thing I’ve heard all day. Eventually, when we’ve calmed down and a comfortable quiet has settled over us, I lean forward and turn on the radio. With a rustic voice and gentle guitar chords harmonizing around us, it’s easy to forget what we’re driving toward.
“Five hours to go,” I yawn, glancing at the navigation on the dashboard.
“You should rest while you can,” he says.
“Okay.” I push my seat back, uninterested in arguing. While I might have taken in a metric ton of vampire blood to heal myself, that didn’t mean I was running at a hundred percent. Curled up on the seat, I glance up at Gray in the darkness, then tuck my face against the leather cushion.
“Wake me up when it’s time for a shift change.”
As I close my eyes, I hear the familiar ping of my phone. It’s hard to ignore when it happens several more times, so I reach down and dig through the bag that Tannis gave me. I’m surprised it survived the attack without more than a simple scratch.
“Who is it?” Gray asks.
I swipe up and pull up my messages, but I hesitate to open them. My thumb hovers over the name at the top of the inbox.
RONNIE:I heard about what happened at the club.
I swallow hard as another message pops up.
RONNIE:Call me.
Terror sweeps through me. One ex was trouble enough without adding another, and yet, Ronnie is the one wild card I didn’t see coming.
“Shit.”
