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“Was he now,” I glance away, leaning my hand against the staircase.
“Yep. I heard you gave him a, eh, haircut.”
Scowling, I ignore him and walk into the living area. God, do those two tell each other everything?
I’ve never had the chance to have a look around the place before. All of the furniture is brand spanking new and unused. It reminds me of how Ethan was pushed out of his home before he even had the chance to collect his belongings.
When I turn around the vampire himself is standing in the doorway, watching me. He comes at me like a panther, all smooth muscles and potential for danger.
Wrapping his arms around my waist, he kisses me on the neck, right where my pulse is currently pounding. “I hear congratulations are in order. Edwards brought your dad home. We should celebrate,” he whispers into my skin.
“You haven’t seen my dad. If you had you wouldn’t be much in the mood for celebrating.”
“He’ll get better.”
“I hope you’re right.”
He slips his hand beneath my top to brush against my skin. “I didn’t get quite enough time with you last night,” he says into my ear, all husky.
“Yeah about that,” I pause, turning in his arms so that I can look him in the eye. “It can’t happen again, at least not for a while. I need to focus on my dad. Not to mention Rita’s acting weird and Emilia’s got Rebecca.”
“Emilia?” Ethan frowns. I’d forgotten I hadn’t told him about my newly discovered grandmother. I thought Delilah would have filled him in.
“She’s a witch, a powerful one. She’s also my grandmother. It’s a long story. Basically she was helping me with a spell for Rebecca, but then she decided she liked the little girl so much that she wanted to keep her. She has some issues because my mother ran away from home when she was a teenager, never to be seen again. Once the spell was completed, she took off with Rebecca and now has herself barricaded into her house with a spell so that Pamphrock can’t get in and take his daughter back.”
Ethan regards me seriously, then grins. “That’s quite a mouthful, and quite the predicament.”
“It’s all my fault too. I was the one who agreed to let her help me. There are slayers surrounding Emila’s home day and night, but I’m thinking of going down there to see if I can talk some sense into her.”
“Insanity in women, particularly in mothers who have lost their children, can be a very delicate matter. Are you sure
you talking to her will make a difference?”
At this I remember what Ethan revealed to me last night about losing his dhamphir children. He’s likely had first-hand experience with grieving mothers. It’s odd to think that Emilia could still be grieving after all this time, but I guess the open ended way in which my mother disappeared meant she could never really get closure.
“What do you suggest I do?” I ask, needing his insight.
“If she has spelled herself into her house then there isn’t much you can do. I doubt she will try to harm the girl, but since you are her granddaughter maybe you could let her know that you’re available to have a relationship with her. That way keeping Rebecca won’t seem so vital any longer.”
I make a noise of disagreement. “I’m not sure that will work. She wasn’t very taken with me to be honest. She was smitten with Rebecca because she was all dainty and innocent. I think I was a little too rough around the edges for her taste.”
Ethan brings his hands up to my neck, rubbing his thumbs affectionately across my sensitive skin. “I happen to like your rough edges,” he breathes.
I’m too mesmerised by his eyes to pull back, but I still try to remind him of what I said before. “I mean it Ethan, this is no time for romantic entanglements. You and Finn already hate one another. I’m staying away from both of you to keep the peace.”
“Why should the slayer factor into it?”
“Because he’s my friend and he has feelings for me. He caught me coming home from your place this morning and he’s pretending he’s not bothered, but I can tell it hurt him. I don’t want to cause any more pain for anyone. I just want to set things right.”
“And what about me? You have hurt me intrinsically, and you will hurt me further by keeping me at a distance.”
“Don’t guilt trip me,” I whisper, shuddering as he increases the pressure of his thumbs.
“I’m stating facts, that’s all.”
“No, you’re not. You’re being difficult.”
He’s manoeuvring me now, backing me towards the sofa. We’re interrupted when Lucas saunters into the room and perches himself on the arm of said sofa.
