Page 29 of In His Veins

“Where the hell are we? Where are you taking me?” Cal smiles, and I’m breathless at the sight. His full lips are a gift from the devil. From the way my body responds to him, I think I’d follow him to hell if he asked.

“I wondered when you’d notice. Maybe you really are impaired.” My jaw drops and I’m so pissed, it temporarily overrides my desire.

“This was just a ruse. You didn’t care about me driving home. You just wanted to get me alone so you could kill me in the middle of nowhere.” He frowns, and I find that this expression is just as compelling.

“Of course, I was concerned for you. I can barely think about anything else. My desire to have you to myself is a given, but I assure you, killing you isn’t in the cards tonight.” My attention catches at the end of his statement.

“Oh okay, I’m safe tonight. So, should I expect you to come by to kill me tomorrow, then?” He gives me a withering look, but doesn’t respond. “So if you’re not planning on killing me in these woods,” I continue, “where are you taking me?”

“I’m taking you to my house.”

19

CALLUM

Ava’s silent for the rest of the drive. She’s so rigid in her seat I’m certain she’s ready to bolt the moment I stop the car. I pull into my long driveway and turn to her as I park.

“What would happen if I ran?” She says it casually, as if she’d asked me what I had for breakfast. I consider her question for a moment.

“You’d probably get lost trying to find a main road. Then I’d chase you down and bring you home.” Her eyes slide to mine.

“And then you’ll kill me.”

I release a frustrated sigh and sit back in my seat. “I’m not going to kill you, Viper. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever.” She unhooks her seatbelt, reaching for her door handle.

“Stop calling me that,” she spits. I meet her around the side of the car and open the door for her.

“No can do. It fits so well.”

She doesn’t respond as she walks to the front door.

I come up behind her, putting a hand around her waist. She jolts at the contact as I steer her toward the garage. She follows me through the threshold into my laundry room, unconsciously reaching for me as she stumbles through the darkness. I reach back and grab her hand.

“I guess all my brothers know who I was with last, so if my body winds up on the local news, they’ll have a pretty good idea who did it,” she rationalizes. I squeeze her hand.

“See? There you go. It wouldn’t make sense for me to murder you tonight.” I grin at her over my shoulder and turn on the kitchen lights. Now able to see, she drops my hand to survey the space. My cabinets are matte black topped with slabs of matching granite. The exposed, warm brick brightens the space. She gingerly pulls out a stool at the island and takes a seat. Placing her chin in her hand, she looks at me expectantly.

Her hair is dry now, falling in natural waves down her back. I lean against the counter, allowing the island to act as a barrier between us. Her eyes are wide as she takes in every detail of my movement. I hold open my hands in front of me to show her that they’re empty before crossing them in front of my chest.

“Something on your mind?” She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“How long has this been going on? How long have you been stalking me?” I watch her carefully and decide to tell her the truth, or at least a version of it.

“Truthfully? Not long.” I leave her brothers out of it. “I was made aware of a threat to your safety, and in the process, developed this addiction.” I offer her a wry smile.

“Eliott,” she breathes. “You found out about Eliott.” I neither confirm nor deny it, but she continues. “I think he had been looking for me, maybe for a while.”

That part, I can confirm. “He said as much to me, yes.” Her eyes had been unfocused, lost in a memory I couldn’t see, but she refocuses quickly at that.

“You really killed him.” I nod, even though it’s not a question.

“I wish he was still alive,” I admit, and she suddenly looks unsure and afraid. I shake my head before adding: “He didn’t suffer enough for what he did.” Ava looks sick, her voice coming out hoarse.

“He told you what he did?” I want to reach around the island and pull her into my arms, but I stay rooted to my spot.

“I got the gist.” Another half-truth. He told me every sordid detail which set me into such an unbridled rage that I slaughtered him quickly. Her eyes flutter closed at my response.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. I furrow my brows, certain I misunderstood.

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