Darius, p.12
Darius, page 12
Darius hit the door to his bedchamber like it was an opponent, punching at the heavy weight before marching into his private quarters.
Over at his desk, Vishous, son of the Bloodletter, had taken a seat and was leaning back in the carved chair, his boots propped up on the blotter, a Cartier ashtray balanced on his abs.
“Surprise, surprise,” the brother drawled after a puff of Turkish tobacco. “Interrupting you on a date.”
“Fuck you,” Darius said as he shut them in together.
The brow by the tattooed temple lifted, those diamond eyes gleaming with cold amusement. “I don’t think I’m the one you want to screw. But you know me, I’m up for anything.”
Darius’s fangs tingled as they dropped down from his jaw. “Don’t push me. I’m not in the mood.”
Vishous’s nostrils flared—and then he suddenly didn’t look so self-satisfied. He was dumbfounded. “Wait a minute. Are you… have you bonded with her? Really?”
A shaft of anxiety shot down Darius’s spine and landed in his partial erection. Surely he couldn’t have— “I’m not dignifying that with an answer.”
“You don’t have to.”
Darius stalked over to his bathroom and turned the light off. Just to give himself something to do—other than homicide. “Why the hell are you here. Instead of out stealing candy from babies and kicking puppies.”
“I’ve turned over a new leaf.” Vishous tapped his hand-rolled. “I’m now full of peace and love. A hippie.”
“No more black wax, then?”
That eyebrow jogged. “So people have been talking about me again.”
As exhaustion tackled Darius from behind, he felt like screaming in frustration, but lacked the energy. “Look, I’m not interested in your games or this bullshit back-and-forth—”
“There’s been another induction ceremony.”
Darius cursed. “Not again. Where.”
“Farmhouse. About ten miles out of town.” The other brother inhaled and talked through the smoke, as was his way. “As soon as I got into the field tonight, I tracked a new slayer. Still had dark hair and eyes. Before I stabbed him back to his unholy maker, I made him tell me where he’d gotten the black oil in his veins.”
“How many were turned.”
“Over a dozen.”
“Oh, shit.” Darius pulled a hand through his hair. “There was one last week, too.”
“The Omega’s on a roll.” Vishous stabbed his cigarette out in the little porcelain basin. “I’m heading to the site now.”
Darius shook his head, well aware of where this was going. “Why? It’s already done. The Omega will be gone, the inductees, too—”
“I don’t think so. The lesser was merely an hour or two past his induction. There could be others still recovering from the ceremony.” The brother’s voice lowered. “And you know how much I like to exercise—”
“You can’t go alone.”
“I wasn’t asking for your permission.”
“Well, I can’t go out tonight. You need to get one of the others to back you up.”
The brother cocked a brow. Then nodded toward the door. “Where did you find your little friend across the hall, by the way—”
Darius jabbed a finger at the male. “Watch your mouth.”
“Watch your distractions.”
“Distractions?” He went over to his desk, planted his palms, and leaned into them. “Are you saying I’m not completely committed to what’s left of this race?”
“I’m not the one with a human under him—”
“I keep a light on for our fucking King. I built a house for all of us that no one in the Brotherhood goes to, much less lives in. I am the thread between the Old Country and this shit existence in the New World. And you have the gall to suggest I’m slacking because one night—one fucking night—I dare to have a personal life? How many females have you fucked in the last week.”
“Females? I’m not sure. But I know there were seven males. No, eight if you count that blow job I got about two hours ago. And as for picking your date over that duty you talk so much about, don’t bitch at me. I’m just a mirror for your choices.” Vishous tossed the ashtray onto the blotter and sat up, planting his boots on the floor. “If I die tonight, your self-imposed guilt is your problem, no one else’s.”
Darius closed his eyes and tried not to lose it. “Do you know when the last time was that I… when the last night I…” He cleared his throat. “When I had a moment of peace. Just one fucking moment to myself? All I think about is the fucking war, and our fucking King, and our fucking species—I need a goddamn night off!”
As his voice got louder and louder, he didn’t bother holding anything in—even though, of all the Brotherhood, the one you never wanted to show any emotion or weakness in front of was the fighter in front of him. Vishous was the smartest brother, a warrior with an intellect honed like the daggers he sharpened, a male who had no mercy for anything or anyone. Including himself.
Whatever you showed him of your underbelly would go into his toolbox, and it would be used at some future time. To his benefit.
But Darius couldn’t give a shit about that right now.
“I’m tired of fucking everything tonight.” Except for the woman across the hall. “And I don’t have anything left to give you, or the Brotherhood.”
Vishous got to his feet. But instead of laying on the sarcasm, he kept his voice level. “This is wartime, D. There’s no peace for any of us. So when it comes to going off-duty, you’re never going to get a quarter from the likes of me, sorry.”
Oddly, the apology part seemed sincere for once.
“Is this ever going to end,” Darius wondered out loud.
“Yes.”
“Because of that stupid Dhestroyer prophecy? Jesus Christ, that old yarn is nothing but folklore.” He glanced to his closed chamber door. “But I’m still not going with you tonight.”
When Vishous’s unrelenting stare didn’t change focus, Darius rolled his eyes. “What. Just say it. Although the shit talk better not be about her.”
After a moment, the brother moved around the desk. “I didn’t come here to get you to hold my hand when I go check out that induction site.”
As a sudden feeling of dread hit Darius like a tank, he tried to keep his face in a mask that gave nothing away. “Why did you come, then.”
Even though… he knew. Vishous’s reputation preceded him not just when it came to snarkiness and sexual matters of an unconventional nature. There was also a lot of talk about his second sight, his visions of the future.
They were only ever of death.
“Well, get on with it,” Darius said hoarsely. “Tell me what you saw.”
“Sometimes people don’t want to know.”
“Then why give me a choice.”
“Because sometimes they want to know.”
Darius had the strangest sense that the pronouns had changed because the brother was distancing himself.
“So what’s it going to be, D. What do you want to do.”
In the silence that followed, the only thought that went through Darius’s head… was that he wondered what Anne would choose for herself. What she would suggest he choose.
“Think about it.” Vishous stepped by him. “Let me know—”
“Iwanttoknow.”
The brother slowly turned. And as those diamond eyes swung around, they seemed to glow with an otherworldly light.
After what felt like an eternity, Vishous said in a grave voice, “I saw you engulfed in the sun, with flames surrounding you. Click…”
“Click?”
“That was the sound before the sun came for you. Click.” Vishous frowned and rubbed his tattooed temple. “It was like a mechanical sound. And then… the sun.”
“So I opened a window? A door?” Darius shook his head. “Impossible. I’m not suicidal. I’m never doing that during the daytime.”
“It wasn’t daytime.”
“Sure it was. That’s when the sun’s out.” As he thought more about it, he exhaled in relief. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me. And I’ll be extra careful from sunrise to sundown. Thank you.”
Riding a wave of buzzy emotion, he pulled Vishous in for a hard embrace. Then he set the brother back.
“And please don’t go to that farmhouse alone,” he told the male. “The Omega could be there.”
“You just said there was no reason to go because he and his inductees would be gone.”
“I lied. You know where Tohrment lives. Go and find him—better that you stay alive to fight than get yourself killed by trying to add a slayer or two more to your belt all by your lonesome.” When Vishous opened his mouth, Darius cut in. “No, I’m serious. Don’t do anything too risky, we need you.”
“I always thought you disliked me,” came the dry response.
“Of course I don’t like you.” Darius leaned in and spoke out of the corner of his mouth. “News flash, nobody likes you.”
V leveled a hard stare. “Stop with the compliments, you’re making me blush.”
“But you’re very useful. Not as decorative as Rhage, but very useful.” Darius clapped the brother on the biceps. “Now go find Tohr. And have fun, but be safe—and don’t come down here again without calling ahead first.”
As Darius opened the door, Vishous said roughly, “It was raining. Before the sun… there was rain. And I’m telling you, it was night.”
Darius regarded the brother across the distance that separated them. “Then your vision was wrong for once. That great glowing fireball in the sky only comes out in the daytime. But hey, I’ll be careful—and so will you. Say hello to Tohr for me. He’s such a male of worth.”
* * *
As time slowed to a crawl, Anne had to force herself to sit up off the pillows and stop with the nervous munching. With her feet dangling off the side of the bed, she looked back at the headboard. She wasn’t sure what kind of antique wood it was made out of, but the carvings went so deep, she could put her fingers into the pattern of relief.
After a moment of inspection, she decided it was the depiction of a garden of fecund fruit trees.
She glanced down at the mattress. Was this a baby-making shrine or something?
Hopping off, there was a good distance to the floor, and she landed on the jewel-toned carpet with a grunt. To loosen up her sore hip and leg, she wandered over to the oil paintings that hung from hooks drilled into the black rock. The lake scenes reminded her of the Adirondacks, green mountains rising up from basins of crystal clear water, humans, if there were any, so small by comparison. Set in gold frames, the works of art were clearly masterpieces.
“John Frederick Kensett, Lake George, eighteen sixty-nine,” she read aloud.
Not a clue who that was, but she’d been right about the luminous location. As she strolled to the next one, the gilded nameplate read “Thomas Cole.” There was an Albert Bierstadt. A Thomas Davies.
She felt like she was in a museum—
Stopping, she focused on a cluster of three vases that were sitting on a pedestal table. Of all the objects in the room, at least one of the triplet didn’t fit with the antique decor. The capped container was cheap and swimming pool blue. And the two it was with may have been old, but there was an equal ugliness to them.
She picked up the one that seemed like you could find in a kitchen store—
“Sorry about that—”
As Darius reentered the bedroom, she wheeled around—and in the process, lost her grip on the vase. Though she instantly tried for a regrab, gravity did its job, and as luck would have it, the thing landed not on the Persian rug, but on the bare rock floor that ringed the beautiful carpet. The shatter was spectacular, the china breaking open, shards going flying—
“No!” Darius barked as she dropped down. “Don’t touch it!”
“I’m so sor—oh, my God.” Anne recoiled and plugged her nose. “What is that smell?”
Darius dragged her back and put his body between her and the broken vase. “Shit.”
Anne frowned. A black and glossy substance was oozing all over the pieces of pottery, and that wasn’t all. There was something else there, something that struck her as horrifying—
“Is that a heart?” she breathed.
As her stomach rolled, she looked into Darius’s face. His features were composed into a mask, but his eyes were pits of regret.
Drawing her back, he opened his mouth. Closed it. Then he looked over at the mess on the floor again. “Stay here. Do not go near that thing.”
He disappeared out of the bedroom and shouted up the stairs. There was a pause—and then the thundering sound of him taking the stone steps two at a time dimmed as he ascended.
Anne glanced back at the black spill.
Every cell in her body began to vibrate in warning, and she moved even farther away. Yet the oily substance was strangely hypnotic, the way it pooled on the gray stone almost sensuous… like it was alive, like it was enticing her to—
Anne gasped as Darius pulled her back into the center of the room. And to think she hadn’t realized she’d gotten that close.
“Listen, I need to…” he started.
There was a pause. And then he urged her all the way out of the room, out into the little hallway at the base of the stairs. Meanwhile, her eyes remained locked on the remains of the cheap blue vase, and what seemed to be a heart… and that blood-like ooze.
The door shut, closing off her view.
“Listen,” he began again. “I hate to do this, but something’s come up. And I can’t—I have to go. There’s just—I hate this, but if I don’t go with my bro—friend, rather, he’s going to be in danger, and as much as I’m trying to convince myself it’s not my problem—I’m worried no one else will think it’s theirs.”
Anne tried to focus on Darius’s words, but every time she blinked, she just saw that glossy black oil undulating over the uneven contours of the stone floor. Like it was trying to get to her—
“Anne?”
His face took over her field of vision, so close to her own that he encompassed everything.
“Anne.”
She jerked herself back to attention. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
As his mouth flattened into a grim line, he shook his head. “I have to go help my friend. Otherwise, he’s going to do something really stupid on his own.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “Sure. Of course.”
“I can have Fritz take you home—”
“The butler.”
“Yes, he can give you a ride—”
“Oh, no, I’ll just get another cab.” When he cursed, she took his hand and got with the program. “It’s okay. And I understand—”
“Or you can stay here.” Before she could respond, he jumped in, “You’re safe in this house. Fritz loves company, and you could just wait a little bit until I come back? I really don’t want this night to end, but especially not like this, me all rushing out. So you could stay here—actually, please, stay here. I won’t be gone any longer than absolutely necessary.”
Anne told herself to say no, thank you, and no, she’d just call a cab, and no, she wasn’t going to wait, and no…
“All right.”
Darius’s expression eased, a smile replacing some of the stress. “That’s great—that’s just… thank you.”
The idea that her presence meant so much to him made her feel important. And then his lips were on hers, a warm brush.
“I’ll be as fast as I can.” He glanced back at the broken vase. “But you can’t stay in this room. Go upstairs while I change and Fritz cleans this up?”
“Okay, I will.”
She smiled a little and turned away—
Strong arms brought her back against a strong body, and Darius bent her off-balance, holding her weight easily.
“I’ll be counting the minutes,” he murmured.
And then he kissed the ever-living shit out of her.
When he finally set her back on her feet, they were both breathing heavily.
“As soon as I get home, I’m going to…” His voice trailed off, and his eyes raked her from head to foot, their intensity making her feel naked. In a good way. “You know what, I better stop that sentence right there.”
Anne pretty much floated out to the bottom of the stairs. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him silhouetted in the open doorway—and she was never going to forget the way he stared at her: He made her feel beautiful, in a more-than-skin-deep kind of way.
For a sizzling moment, she wanted to say something alluring, something that might have come out of the mouth of, say, Sophia Loren or Elizabeth Taylor.
Instead, she just smiled again and started her ascent out of the cellar. Maybe the mystery would be sexy enough. Then again… given how he looked at her? Maybe she was enough just the way she was.
And as Anne continued to put one foot in front of the other, and passed by the lanterns, and felt remarkably unweird about staying in the house of a relative stranger with the man’s boss’s butler…
… neither the vampire who had offered her his hospitality nor she herself, who had accepted the invitation, knew that her life had been saved by her decision to remain.
CHAPTER TWELVE
As Darius re-formed in a stand of bushes that had all the ocular appeal of a ball of scrap metal, he really didn’t want to hear one goddamn word from Vishous about his change of mind. He was currently in a mood that vacillated between nasty and murderous, and while that was helpful on the job, it was also an incendiary pendulum on a good night, a real frickin’ joy when you were working an induction scene with the likes of V.
Especially after you’d just left a woman you’d much rather be with back at home while your butler cleaned up a lesser mess.
Fortunately, as the brother materialized beside him, V didn’t seem to be interested in any off-topic conversation about U-turns, and what a blessing from the Virgin Scribe. Yes, Anne was important—too important, really—but the sight of that lesser blood on the floor of the chamber had been what shocked Darius back to his priorities.
And of course there was no way V would have gone and gotten Tohr.
Over at his desk, Vishous, son of the Bloodletter, had taken a seat and was leaning back in the carved chair, his boots propped up on the blotter, a Cartier ashtray balanced on his abs.
“Surprise, surprise,” the brother drawled after a puff of Turkish tobacco. “Interrupting you on a date.”
“Fuck you,” Darius said as he shut them in together.
The brow by the tattooed temple lifted, those diamond eyes gleaming with cold amusement. “I don’t think I’m the one you want to screw. But you know me, I’m up for anything.”
Darius’s fangs tingled as they dropped down from his jaw. “Don’t push me. I’m not in the mood.”
Vishous’s nostrils flared—and then he suddenly didn’t look so self-satisfied. He was dumbfounded. “Wait a minute. Are you… have you bonded with her? Really?”
A shaft of anxiety shot down Darius’s spine and landed in his partial erection. Surely he couldn’t have— “I’m not dignifying that with an answer.”
“You don’t have to.”
Darius stalked over to his bathroom and turned the light off. Just to give himself something to do—other than homicide. “Why the hell are you here. Instead of out stealing candy from babies and kicking puppies.”
“I’ve turned over a new leaf.” Vishous tapped his hand-rolled. “I’m now full of peace and love. A hippie.”
“No more black wax, then?”
That eyebrow jogged. “So people have been talking about me again.”
As exhaustion tackled Darius from behind, he felt like screaming in frustration, but lacked the energy. “Look, I’m not interested in your games or this bullshit back-and-forth—”
“There’s been another induction ceremony.”
Darius cursed. “Not again. Where.”
“Farmhouse. About ten miles out of town.” The other brother inhaled and talked through the smoke, as was his way. “As soon as I got into the field tonight, I tracked a new slayer. Still had dark hair and eyes. Before I stabbed him back to his unholy maker, I made him tell me where he’d gotten the black oil in his veins.”
“How many were turned.”
“Over a dozen.”
“Oh, shit.” Darius pulled a hand through his hair. “There was one last week, too.”
“The Omega’s on a roll.” Vishous stabbed his cigarette out in the little porcelain basin. “I’m heading to the site now.”
Darius shook his head, well aware of where this was going. “Why? It’s already done. The Omega will be gone, the inductees, too—”
“I don’t think so. The lesser was merely an hour or two past his induction. There could be others still recovering from the ceremony.” The brother’s voice lowered. “And you know how much I like to exercise—”
“You can’t go alone.”
“I wasn’t asking for your permission.”
“Well, I can’t go out tonight. You need to get one of the others to back you up.”
The brother cocked a brow. Then nodded toward the door. “Where did you find your little friend across the hall, by the way—”
Darius jabbed a finger at the male. “Watch your mouth.”
“Watch your distractions.”
“Distractions?” He went over to his desk, planted his palms, and leaned into them. “Are you saying I’m not completely committed to what’s left of this race?”
“I’m not the one with a human under him—”
“I keep a light on for our fucking King. I built a house for all of us that no one in the Brotherhood goes to, much less lives in. I am the thread between the Old Country and this shit existence in the New World. And you have the gall to suggest I’m slacking because one night—one fucking night—I dare to have a personal life? How many females have you fucked in the last week.”
“Females? I’m not sure. But I know there were seven males. No, eight if you count that blow job I got about two hours ago. And as for picking your date over that duty you talk so much about, don’t bitch at me. I’m just a mirror for your choices.” Vishous tossed the ashtray onto the blotter and sat up, planting his boots on the floor. “If I die tonight, your self-imposed guilt is your problem, no one else’s.”
Darius closed his eyes and tried not to lose it. “Do you know when the last time was that I… when the last night I…” He cleared his throat. “When I had a moment of peace. Just one fucking moment to myself? All I think about is the fucking war, and our fucking King, and our fucking species—I need a goddamn night off!”
As his voice got louder and louder, he didn’t bother holding anything in—even though, of all the Brotherhood, the one you never wanted to show any emotion or weakness in front of was the fighter in front of him. Vishous was the smartest brother, a warrior with an intellect honed like the daggers he sharpened, a male who had no mercy for anything or anyone. Including himself.
Whatever you showed him of your underbelly would go into his toolbox, and it would be used at some future time. To his benefit.
But Darius couldn’t give a shit about that right now.
“I’m tired of fucking everything tonight.” Except for the woman across the hall. “And I don’t have anything left to give you, or the Brotherhood.”
Vishous got to his feet. But instead of laying on the sarcasm, he kept his voice level. “This is wartime, D. There’s no peace for any of us. So when it comes to going off-duty, you’re never going to get a quarter from the likes of me, sorry.”
Oddly, the apology part seemed sincere for once.
“Is this ever going to end,” Darius wondered out loud.
“Yes.”
“Because of that stupid Dhestroyer prophecy? Jesus Christ, that old yarn is nothing but folklore.” He glanced to his closed chamber door. “But I’m still not going with you tonight.”
When Vishous’s unrelenting stare didn’t change focus, Darius rolled his eyes. “What. Just say it. Although the shit talk better not be about her.”
After a moment, the brother moved around the desk. “I didn’t come here to get you to hold my hand when I go check out that induction site.”
As a sudden feeling of dread hit Darius like a tank, he tried to keep his face in a mask that gave nothing away. “Why did you come, then.”
Even though… he knew. Vishous’s reputation preceded him not just when it came to snarkiness and sexual matters of an unconventional nature. There was also a lot of talk about his second sight, his visions of the future.
They were only ever of death.
“Well, get on with it,” Darius said hoarsely. “Tell me what you saw.”
“Sometimes people don’t want to know.”
“Then why give me a choice.”
“Because sometimes they want to know.”
Darius had the strangest sense that the pronouns had changed because the brother was distancing himself.
“So what’s it going to be, D. What do you want to do.”
In the silence that followed, the only thought that went through Darius’s head… was that he wondered what Anne would choose for herself. What she would suggest he choose.
“Think about it.” Vishous stepped by him. “Let me know—”
“Iwanttoknow.”
The brother slowly turned. And as those diamond eyes swung around, they seemed to glow with an otherworldly light.
After what felt like an eternity, Vishous said in a grave voice, “I saw you engulfed in the sun, with flames surrounding you. Click…”
“Click?”
“That was the sound before the sun came for you. Click.” Vishous frowned and rubbed his tattooed temple. “It was like a mechanical sound. And then… the sun.”
“So I opened a window? A door?” Darius shook his head. “Impossible. I’m not suicidal. I’m never doing that during the daytime.”
“It wasn’t daytime.”
“Sure it was. That’s when the sun’s out.” As he thought more about it, he exhaled in relief. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me. And I’ll be extra careful from sunrise to sundown. Thank you.”
Riding a wave of buzzy emotion, he pulled Vishous in for a hard embrace. Then he set the brother back.
“And please don’t go to that farmhouse alone,” he told the male. “The Omega could be there.”
“You just said there was no reason to go because he and his inductees would be gone.”
“I lied. You know where Tohrment lives. Go and find him—better that you stay alive to fight than get yourself killed by trying to add a slayer or two more to your belt all by your lonesome.” When Vishous opened his mouth, Darius cut in. “No, I’m serious. Don’t do anything too risky, we need you.”
“I always thought you disliked me,” came the dry response.
“Of course I don’t like you.” Darius leaned in and spoke out of the corner of his mouth. “News flash, nobody likes you.”
V leveled a hard stare. “Stop with the compliments, you’re making me blush.”
“But you’re very useful. Not as decorative as Rhage, but very useful.” Darius clapped the brother on the biceps. “Now go find Tohr. And have fun, but be safe—and don’t come down here again without calling ahead first.”
As Darius opened the door, Vishous said roughly, “It was raining. Before the sun… there was rain. And I’m telling you, it was night.”
Darius regarded the brother across the distance that separated them. “Then your vision was wrong for once. That great glowing fireball in the sky only comes out in the daytime. But hey, I’ll be careful—and so will you. Say hello to Tohr for me. He’s such a male of worth.”
* * *
As time slowed to a crawl, Anne had to force herself to sit up off the pillows and stop with the nervous munching. With her feet dangling off the side of the bed, she looked back at the headboard. She wasn’t sure what kind of antique wood it was made out of, but the carvings went so deep, she could put her fingers into the pattern of relief.
After a moment of inspection, she decided it was the depiction of a garden of fecund fruit trees.
She glanced down at the mattress. Was this a baby-making shrine or something?
Hopping off, there was a good distance to the floor, and she landed on the jewel-toned carpet with a grunt. To loosen up her sore hip and leg, she wandered over to the oil paintings that hung from hooks drilled into the black rock. The lake scenes reminded her of the Adirondacks, green mountains rising up from basins of crystal clear water, humans, if there were any, so small by comparison. Set in gold frames, the works of art were clearly masterpieces.
“John Frederick Kensett, Lake George, eighteen sixty-nine,” she read aloud.
Not a clue who that was, but she’d been right about the luminous location. As she strolled to the next one, the gilded nameplate read “Thomas Cole.” There was an Albert Bierstadt. A Thomas Davies.
She felt like she was in a museum—
Stopping, she focused on a cluster of three vases that were sitting on a pedestal table. Of all the objects in the room, at least one of the triplet didn’t fit with the antique decor. The capped container was cheap and swimming pool blue. And the two it was with may have been old, but there was an equal ugliness to them.
She picked up the one that seemed like you could find in a kitchen store—
“Sorry about that—”
As Darius reentered the bedroom, she wheeled around—and in the process, lost her grip on the vase. Though she instantly tried for a regrab, gravity did its job, and as luck would have it, the thing landed not on the Persian rug, but on the bare rock floor that ringed the beautiful carpet. The shatter was spectacular, the china breaking open, shards going flying—
“No!” Darius barked as she dropped down. “Don’t touch it!”
“I’m so sor—oh, my God.” Anne recoiled and plugged her nose. “What is that smell?”
Darius dragged her back and put his body between her and the broken vase. “Shit.”
Anne frowned. A black and glossy substance was oozing all over the pieces of pottery, and that wasn’t all. There was something else there, something that struck her as horrifying—
“Is that a heart?” she breathed.
As her stomach rolled, she looked into Darius’s face. His features were composed into a mask, but his eyes were pits of regret.
Drawing her back, he opened his mouth. Closed it. Then he looked over at the mess on the floor again. “Stay here. Do not go near that thing.”
He disappeared out of the bedroom and shouted up the stairs. There was a pause—and then the thundering sound of him taking the stone steps two at a time dimmed as he ascended.
Anne glanced back at the black spill.
Every cell in her body began to vibrate in warning, and she moved even farther away. Yet the oily substance was strangely hypnotic, the way it pooled on the gray stone almost sensuous… like it was alive, like it was enticing her to—
Anne gasped as Darius pulled her back into the center of the room. And to think she hadn’t realized she’d gotten that close.
“Listen, I need to…” he started.
There was a pause. And then he urged her all the way out of the room, out into the little hallway at the base of the stairs. Meanwhile, her eyes remained locked on the remains of the cheap blue vase, and what seemed to be a heart… and that blood-like ooze.
The door shut, closing off her view.
“Listen,” he began again. “I hate to do this, but something’s come up. And I can’t—I have to go. There’s just—I hate this, but if I don’t go with my bro—friend, rather, he’s going to be in danger, and as much as I’m trying to convince myself it’s not my problem—I’m worried no one else will think it’s theirs.”
Anne tried to focus on Darius’s words, but every time she blinked, she just saw that glossy black oil undulating over the uneven contours of the stone floor. Like it was trying to get to her—
“Anne?”
His face took over her field of vision, so close to her own that he encompassed everything.
“Anne.”
She jerked herself back to attention. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
As his mouth flattened into a grim line, he shook his head. “I have to go help my friend. Otherwise, he’s going to do something really stupid on his own.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “Sure. Of course.”
“I can have Fritz take you home—”
“The butler.”
“Yes, he can give you a ride—”
“Oh, no, I’ll just get another cab.” When he cursed, she took his hand and got with the program. “It’s okay. And I understand—”
“Or you can stay here.” Before she could respond, he jumped in, “You’re safe in this house. Fritz loves company, and you could just wait a little bit until I come back? I really don’t want this night to end, but especially not like this, me all rushing out. So you could stay here—actually, please, stay here. I won’t be gone any longer than absolutely necessary.”
Anne told herself to say no, thank you, and no, she’d just call a cab, and no, she wasn’t going to wait, and no…
“All right.”
Darius’s expression eased, a smile replacing some of the stress. “That’s great—that’s just… thank you.”
The idea that her presence meant so much to him made her feel important. And then his lips were on hers, a warm brush.
“I’ll be as fast as I can.” He glanced back at the broken vase. “But you can’t stay in this room. Go upstairs while I change and Fritz cleans this up?”
“Okay, I will.”
She smiled a little and turned away—
Strong arms brought her back against a strong body, and Darius bent her off-balance, holding her weight easily.
“I’ll be counting the minutes,” he murmured.
And then he kissed the ever-living shit out of her.
When he finally set her back on her feet, they were both breathing heavily.
“As soon as I get home, I’m going to…” His voice trailed off, and his eyes raked her from head to foot, their intensity making her feel naked. In a good way. “You know what, I better stop that sentence right there.”
Anne pretty much floated out to the bottom of the stairs. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him silhouetted in the open doorway—and she was never going to forget the way he stared at her: He made her feel beautiful, in a more-than-skin-deep kind of way.
For a sizzling moment, she wanted to say something alluring, something that might have come out of the mouth of, say, Sophia Loren or Elizabeth Taylor.
Instead, she just smiled again and started her ascent out of the cellar. Maybe the mystery would be sexy enough. Then again… given how he looked at her? Maybe she was enough just the way she was.
And as Anne continued to put one foot in front of the other, and passed by the lanterns, and felt remarkably unweird about staying in the house of a relative stranger with the man’s boss’s butler…
… neither the vampire who had offered her his hospitality nor she herself, who had accepted the invitation, knew that her life had been saved by her decision to remain.
CHAPTER TWELVE
As Darius re-formed in a stand of bushes that had all the ocular appeal of a ball of scrap metal, he really didn’t want to hear one goddamn word from Vishous about his change of mind. He was currently in a mood that vacillated between nasty and murderous, and while that was helpful on the job, it was also an incendiary pendulum on a good night, a real frickin’ joy when you were working an induction scene with the likes of V.
Especially after you’d just left a woman you’d much rather be with back at home while your butler cleaned up a lesser mess.
Fortunately, as the brother materialized beside him, V didn’t seem to be interested in any off-topic conversation about U-turns, and what a blessing from the Virgin Scribe. Yes, Anne was important—too important, really—but the sight of that lesser blood on the floor of the chamber had been what shocked Darius back to his priorities.
And of course there was no way V would have gone and gotten Tohr.
