Page 41 of Dance With Death

“Don’t cut yourself again and overwhelm us both.” I turn back, and my look travels to the painted runes on the bathroom floor.

Violet stares at my lips a moment. “I need to wash my hands before I leave.”

I can’t help but laugh as she walks stiffly to the sink and holds her hands beneath the running faucet, rubbing at her palm and sending pink water mingled with both our bloods down the sink.

Blinking away the image this prompts, I sit on the bed, fighting the physical desire for Violet that knots tightly with the blood lust. Is this as overpowering for her? Violet hinted at how much changed between us since the night at the warehouse, and she’s already shown me once that she can’t keep the distance she’d like. Only that tentative connection tore when Viktor escaped due to my actions, and I lost her.

Will there ever be a chance I could get as close to Violet as Rowan has?

14

GRAYSON

As I heal my cut palm, I disappear into my not-infrequent thoughts of Violet in the bed that I’m sitting on, and it takes a few moments before I realize the water has stopped running. The only sound comes from muffled voices in a nearby room.

Shit. She hasn’t.

I take the few steps to the bathroom, where Violet grips the sinks, focused on the mirror. The hybrid has retreated, but her eyes are still closer to the dark ocean depths than glacial blue, the water trickling down her beautiful face mingled with the remains of the blood that I didn’t lick away.

What a dumb move that was.

I search the nearby cupboard for a washcloth and lean around her to dampen it beneath the faucet. As I stand behind Violet, our gazes lock in the mirror. “Not licking my blood from the floor, too, Grayson?” she asks coolly and pivots to face me.

“No. Sorry. I stepped out of line.” Tentatively, I touch the edge of Violet’s face and dab at her cheeks with the washcloth. Her whole body goes rigid, but at least I’m not thrown across the room again.

“Why didn’t I attack you?” she asks.

I pause. “Uh. You did.”

Her eyes meet mine. “No. Why didn’t I attack you when there was a real possibility your teeth would pierce my vein?”

“You seriously believe I’d do that without permission? I have more self-preservation than that.” I laugh softly to myself, turn Violet’s face, and wipe the streaked blood from the other cheek.

“What’s happening to me?” she whispers.

“I’d say you’re having issues managing your emotions now that people mean something to you.” I smile. “And your temper.”

“What’s happening to me around you?”

Sweet Violet. She hates the name that Rowan teases her with, but Violet is sweet to me in every single way. She’s beautiful. She’s everything. And I want her more than the blood or power.

I’d give up the chance of Violet’s blood forever if I could have her as mine just once. But deep in my heart, I know that would never be enough.

“I experience all your emotions, Grayson,” she continues. “And quite frequently experience unsettling thoughts prompted by physical need.”

“Mine?” I ask in alarm. “Mind reading?”

“I physically experienced your fear the night Josef attacked you. I also experienced your desire when we kissed that night, and not only in that unfortunate way that males can’t control.” I stifle a laugh when Violet’s eyes harden, and she rests against the sink. “If your thoughts and desires can fill my mind and body because I contain your blood, what would happen if you took my blood and experienced mine too? What would I prompt in you?”

Cautiously, I step closer. “You share the physical experience from my emotions?”

“I’ve informed you of this before. Inconveniently, yes.”

“Is that why you haven’t left the room yet?” I ask.

“I would not allow your physical desire for me to sway my thoughts and behavior,” she retorts, and side steps. “I apologize for my overreaction, and for placing the blame on you for Holly’s situation. Overall, I’ve experienced more unpleasant physical and psychological symptoms than I can cope with for one evening.”

I sigh as she edges past me from the bathroom. Violet Blackwood is back.

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