How long could Antoine survive without blood before he turned feral?
How long could she go without being fed upon before her power swelled so much it killed her?
Cally swallowed hard, the noise muffled by the hood.
Antoine had told her, through Noah, that if she needed to, she could ask Gabe for help. But Antoine didn’t know Gabe had already fed on her—she’d never told him. Feed enough times, Belle had said, and a new bond would be formed. She hadn’t been sure how many it would take.
What if Gabe formed a bond with her?
She didn’t love Gabe. She barely knew him. Sure, he was nice enough, and he helped them out, but who was he really?
Too little on which to base an eternal bond. And she knew how Antoine would react.
What a fucking mess.
Maybe the Order knew something of the bond, or had books she could use to research it. But how could she even ask without giving away that secret? From what Amelia had said, they existed to fight vampires. They would hardly take a positive view of her being bonded to one. Or two. Let alone sleeping with one.
Darian shifted. “We’re here.”
Finally. She couldn’t wait to get this hood off.
The road beneath the limousine’s tires changed from the smooth whir of asphalt to the crunch of gravel, and the vehicle slowed and swerved around in a wide circle before gliding smoothly to a stop.
The door opened a moment later. Darian rose, crouched almost double under the low roof, his figure indistinct through her hood. His hand grasped her upper arm.
“Ready?”
Ready for what?
She let herself be led out of the car and waited on the gravel while he went back for Eve. The air carried a crisp coolness, with faint scents of pine, grass, and lingering rain. Small stones crunched beneath her feet.
It was tempting to reach for her hood, but this wasn’t the time to anger them.
Darian’s fingers closed around her bicep again, and with a gentle tug, he led her away from the limousine. Two sets of footsteps walked beside her.
“Eve?”
“Here.” Her voice came from Darian’s other side, and sounded nervous.
“Steps,” Darian said, slowing, and waiting while Cally felt with her foot for the first. Then he guided them up.
A porch? It made sense. There were some very large estates in this part of upstate New York, hidden discreetly amid lakes and forests, and when she considered how old the Order must be, that made sense too. Lots of money, lots of time to invest, fingers in many pies, strands of their influence reaching out.
Yet she’d never even known they existed.
Another footstep ahead of them and the sound of a door opening. Warmer air as they walked inside. Dark walls, glimpsed through the hood. A carpet beneath her feet, the smell of pine and grass replaced with leather and the sharp tang of furniture polish.
Darian led them along a hallway that stretched for a while and gave some impression of the size of the house. He paused, his hand leaving her arm, and there was a sharp knock on a door before it was opened. Then his hand returned, urging her forward.
“Ah! There she is,” said a voice. “And with her friend, too. Which one is…?”
Darian didn’t reply, but maybe he indicated some other way.
The voice spoke again. “We can dispense with the hoods now.”
“Yes, Primus,” Darian said, and his hands tugged at the wire around her neck. Cally tilted her head forward to give him better access, the wire coming loose. Darian stopped when it was unfastened and didn’t try to pull it off, and she appreciated that. She tugged it away herself.
The room was a library.No, study,she corrected herself as she saw the large mahogany desk before her. But the walls were full of bookcases and rich wood paneling, the carpet a dark green. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of lawns, trees, gray sky, and little else—nothing to indicate where they were.
