Blood Ties Bundle: Blood Ties Book One: The Turning / Blood Ties Book Two: Possession / Blood Ties Book Three: Ashes to Ashes / Blood Ties Book Four: All Souls' Night. Jennifer Armintrout
Читать онлайн книгу.“You’re angry with me.”
There was no denying it. He could feel it through the blood tie. “Yeah, actually, I kind of am.”
“Because of our fight?” He circled his arm around my shoulders again, holding me fast when I tried to shrug him off. “All couples fight. It’s nothing to worry about.”
Couple? “I was single last time I checked.”
He smiled and twisted a strand of my hair around his index finger. “Then why are you so upset that I spent time with Dahlia?”
I sniffed. “Am I that transparent?”
“It’s not hard to tell. Jealously is practically radiating off of you.” He put his hand on my knee. “You’re aware of the role Dahlia plays here.”
“Executive knob polisher?”
“That’s a rather crude way of putting it, but yes. There’s no need to feel threatened by her. You’re my blood.”
“How can I help but be threatened by her? She’s your favorite.” I pushed him away and got up.
He looked me up and down, not bothering to disguise his lustful stare. Turtleneck or not, I felt naked. I covered my face in frustration. “Never mind. You won’t understand. I hate being jealous and you aren’t even listening.”
“I am listening,” he insisted.
“No,” I said as I ran a hand over my hair. “I’m just being stupid. I’ve been trained since birth to be competitive and Dahlia brings out the worst in me. But you’re not helping.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way. Let me make it up to you,” he suggested, standing to guide me back to the couch.
“How?” I’d expected him to pull me into his lap, but he sat a comfortable distance from me.
“Let me woo you. Give me a chance to show you how dear you are to me.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of the sofa. “How about dinner? We can get to know each other better.”
“I remember the last dinner date we had. I’m not interested in another postmortem.”
“No bodies, I promise,” he assured me with a smile. “For a doctor, you’re awfully squeamish.”
“It’s not about being squeamish. It’s about having an ounce of humanity left.” Every moment I spent with him faded my anger, like a photograph exposed to sunlight. I tried to find reasons to stay mad at him, but it was difficult when I was this close to him. “Wouldn’t that make Dahlia jealous?”
“I don’t think she’s the only one who’s jealous.” He lifted his hand and cupped my chin, turning my face to his. “Dahlia is a momentary distraction. I’ll have you forever.”
Forever. For the first time since I’d made the bargain for Nathan’s life, I realized the ramifications of my promise. How long would I live? Cyrus had managed to stay alive for more than six hundred years. I’d fought the fiend lurking inside me for only a night, and I’d barely been able to stand it.
Perhaps my fall was inevitable.
Gently, Cyrus pressed his cold mouth to mine. I didn’t resist. But not because I didn’t have the willpower or because the blood tie was manipulating my response. I kissed him back because I wanted to prove to him, and myself, that he made me feel nothing. That I was still in control.
It didn’t quite work out that way. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him pull me closer. I sensed his surprise, but when he drew back he smiled as though he’d won a great battle. “Now, that wasn’t so terrible.”
It wasn’t. He leaned in for another when I heard the forgotten guard clear his throat. Annoyance danced across my sire’s face, but he quickly covered it with a smile as he stood and straightened his shirt. “Roger, what would you say to another match?”
“Robert, sir. I would be honored.” The guard tossed him his foil.
Cyrus caught it and gracefully took up a ready stance. “Dinner, in my chambers, 5:00 a.m.,” he instructed me. “Please be on time.” With that, he and the guard parried and thrusted their way out of the room.
I closed my eyes. It would have been all too easy to blame my submission on the blood tie, but I couldn’t lie to myself. There was a magnetism about him that had nothing to do with his being a vampire. Despite the horrible way he’d treated me this morning, for a moment he’d made me believe he cared for me as something more than a possession.
It was the most dangerous tactic he’d employed in this battle so far.
Twelve
A Gift
With 5:00 a.m. fast approaching, I paced my bedroom floor in complete indecision as to what I should wear. A chastity belt would have been nice, but he hadn’t included that item in my new wardrobe.
The absence of modern noise in our wing of the house, which had at first been pleasant, was beginning to drive me batty. I didn’t relish the idea of hanging with the Fangs to listen to the radio, but the idea grew more appealing with each passing hour. I hoped to negotiate a TV in my room if I played my cards right. After the tedious night I’d had, the idea of prostituting myself for my cable fix didn’t seem as wrong as it should.
I had almost settled on a plain black skirt to go with the turtleneck I wore when there was a soft knock at my door. Before I could open it, Clarence entered. He bore a plastic garment bag, which he dumped without a word on the bed.
“What’s this?” I asked after him as he left the room.
“Read the card” was his only reply before I heard the outer door click shut.
“Thanks for your help,” I muttered, looking down at the bag. A small envelope rested atop it. I slid the card out and read the elegant script.
I hope the gown is to your liking. It would please me greatly if you wore it this evening. Clarence will come to retrieve you at five o’clock.
Bracing myself for what I might find inside, I unzipped the bag. The dress wasn’t what I had expected—though my expectations weren’t terribly specific. Lifting the length of blush-colored satin, I grudgingly admitted Cyrus had good taste.
I would normally feel a little silly for being so overdressed, but I liked what I saw when I slipped into the gown and looked myself over in the mirror. The color complimented my blond hair, and though my skin had paled since I’d turned, it wasn’t as obvious against such a delicate shade.
I usually wasn’t so vain, but I hadn’t gotten dressed up like this since my high school prom, and the sight of myself in something other than a lab coat or jeans enticed me to the mirror. I snuck a pair of diamond earrings from the stash in the armoire and let my hair down, brushing it until it fell in soft waves around my shoulders. I looked so good I would have given myself television privileges just for standing there.
Now I look like something worth drawing, I thought, and instantly regretted it. After the T-shirt debacle, I’d taken care to hide Nathan’s sketch, but it had felt like burying a dead friend. I wondered what he was doing now. If he missed me. Or if he was just biding his time until he got the chance to kill me.
I commanded myself to stop thinking of such morose things. Whatever might have begun between Nathan and I was over now. I could continue to cling to the past, or I could try to be happy in my new life.
Staring in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. In the past, I’d been lonely and unhappy. I’d defined my life by my career, and my heart hadn’t even been in it. I’d had no idea who I was or any plans to find out. But now I had the opportunity. I couldn’t waste it.
Clarence entered my sitting room just as the clock chimed for the fifth time. His face was somber as he led me down the hallway. We stopped at the large double doors and waited while they were opened from within.