Page 112 of A Bond with the Dark

I’m hitting send as Dom puts his head on my shoulder from behind, all dressed and clean and freshly smelling of that glorious cologne.

“Ready to get after it?” he asks.

“Yep,” I respond, nodding, and stow my phone in the back pocket of my capris.

He grabs me by the hand and pulls me gently toward the door and down the spiral stairs.

Downstairs, his mom makes some eggs at the large spider burner stove, his father holding her from behind and kissing her neck. She’s wearing a sweeping red and white blouse, the painterly drips of crimson making her pale skin stand out like a gleaming chaff.

“Good morning,” Adaline says as Everett lets her go and grabs the morning paper from the counter.

“Good morning, Mom, Dad,” Dom says, scooting a chair out for me at the twelve-person table underneath the crystal chandelier. The legs scraping against the marble floors echo in the large room.

Everett nods, taking a seat at the bar to read his paper.

Bright light saturates the room, covering everything in a shimmering glow of amber and saffron. As I settle into the seat and pull my phone out again, there’s a sudden rush of light. Another woman is suddenly at the table with us in an ephemeral movement. The displacement of air makes me look up.

I guess that vampires have beauty going for them, as it's pertinent to being a killer and luring prey.

Attracting someone to them helps them hunt more efficiently.

Hattie is no exception to this.

She’s shorter than Dom but has short brown hair shaved on the sides, spiked up into a faux hawk. Her white skin is as delicate as porcelain, her gray eyes are almost silver, and her lips are lush and painted a soft purple-pink. She has high cheekbones and a classical straight nose. Tattoos cover her, including on her neck and fingers.

“Sayah, this is Hattie.”

Hattie grins a little but says nothing.

“Nice to meet you,” I utter, but even I can hear the terror in my voice.

“Touch her and die,” Dom growls, his muscles flexing as his body tenses.

“Hattie, be nice,” Adaline says. “Is everyone hungry?”

“Not for eggs,” Hattie answers, her moon-silver eyes not lifting from mine. She reminds me of a rapturous bird or sleek carnivore; something large, frightening, and incapable of human emotion.

My heart pumps hot and fast, and it shows in my cheeks.

To run or not to run?

This is a bad idea.And this is only four of them.

“Hattie,” Dom says, his green eyes glowing white instantly, the fangs protruding from his cuspids.

I don’t care if he’s murder-y right now; that shit is fucking sexy.

“I’m just playing. Relax,” Hattie says, grabbing the orange juice from the middle of the table.

“Want eggs?” Adaline asks, having flashed over with her pan.

“Yes, please,” Dom says, his eyes returning to normal and fangs retreating. “Where are Jasantha, Ollie, and Scar?”

“They’ll be over later for dinner,” Adaline replies, spooning eggs onto his plate and then to mine.

“Hattie lives here with us again,” Everett grumbles, walking to the table to join us. It’s like they cradle their tenderness for each other in harsh words and hide their love in the sharp edges of their villainous manners.

“Daddy loves that I am here.” Hattie giggles and plays with some of the eggs with her fork.

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