Page 8 of Burn for Her

She started bawling her eyes out again. It gutted him. He could never take her tears and now he no longer cared about the fallout of his actions. “Fuck, Em, come here.”

He hooked his arm around her waist and dragged her against his chest. If a vampire ever saw how he behaved with Emily, they would never let him hear the end of it. His reputation for being a terrifying killer would be questioned or challenged. But he didn’t give a rat’s ass about his reputation right now. All he cared about was being there for his girl like her family had been there for him so long ago.

“I get it,” he said against her ear. “I completely get it, Emily, and I’m right there with you.”

She was afraid to have the same fate as her brother, Killian. Dorian was too. Being creatures like them meant it was a damned if you do, damned if you don’t, situation when it came to their endgame. Kissing the back of Emily’s head, he held her tight until she finally put a muzzle and choke collar on her anxiety and pulled away from him. Her hair was tangled. Jeans ripped. T-shirt wrinkled. The woman looked like she always did—adorably messy.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Emily stood up. “I hate it when I get like this.”

Dorian kept his mouth shut. There was no need for her to apologize, but she wouldn’t see it that way.

“What time is it?” she said asked, looking around the room for a clock.

He glanced at his watch. “Two-sixteen.”

“In the morning?” Emily’s eyes widened. “Shit! Emerick’s going to kill me!”

“What time were you to meet him?”

“We’re heading home at three am. I’m to be there at 2:30 because he knows I always run late.”

“Where?”

“Café DuMonde.”

“You didn’t tell him you were coming to see me?”

“No.” Emily cringed in shame. “I took an Uber halfway and walked the other six blocks to get here.”

Unprotected. In vampire territory. But Dorian knew better than most that Emily could handle herself in a fight. He’d taught her how to protect herself.

“Why didn’t you have him drop you off?”

“I don’t want him to know I’m upset about the ceremony. He’ll worry too much, and he’s got enough on his plate as it is.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“No, I’ll just make him come pick me up here. I feel like a shit for sneaking over anyway. And now I smell like vampire. He’ll know exactly where I went.” Her cell went off. She frowned and pulled it out of her pocket, “Shit, it’s him.” Hitting the button, she rolled her eyes. “I’m not late, asshole. Give me a min—oh. Okay. Yeah, fine. Yeah, I will.” She hung up and withered, “He’s out front.”

“He knew you’d come here.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “He said to tell you ‘Hi’.”

Dorian chuckled and made a note to text Emerick later.

Grumbling about overbearing brothers, Emily stormed across the room and went to the wrong door. She swung it open, then slammed it shut. “I hate this damn Mad House. How do you get out of this place?”

“In a body bag.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” She opened another door, identical to the last, and it was also the wrong choice. “Damnit!” She slammed that one too. There were several doors and two secret passageways in the library, so it was a little confusing.

“To your left,” he said, lightly chuckling.

While Dorian stood up and brushed off his pants, Emily beelined to the exit, then doubled back and tackled him in a hug. “Thanks for putting up with my shit. I love you.” She kissed his cheek and shoved off him again. “I’ll let you know my decision when I make it.”

His fat tongue clogged his mouth, and he didn’t say a word. Nodding, he watched her race out of the library, nearly running Victoria over in the process. “Sorry, Vic!”

“Well,” Victoria said from the doorway. “I believe your girl just broke a record for speeding out of the Mad House, Dorian.”

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