Page 61 of Of Blood and Smoke

The realization he truly was that man almost bowled me over. “That was you at the festival,” I said accusingly.

His face softened as he glanced down at me. “It was.”

Could I really allow him into my life? What about my dad? What about my friends? “Hey guys, this is my billionaire, blood drinking, mass murdering lover, do you want to hang out Friday night?” I imagined myself saying the words and a small laugh escaped me.

Josiah tilted his head at me, waiting for me to further explain my concerns..

“How is this supposed to work?” I asked him. “What do I tell people? Should I be scared you’re going to kill my friends?”

He shook his head at me as if I should’ve known better than to ask.

We walked through another door that opened when we approached and entered a luxurious space with vast windows and dark-stained shiplap everywhere. Brass or gold vases were filled with fresh flowers that scented the air, and a variety of beautiful artwork covered the walls.

Dropping his hand, I went ahead of him, my head swiveling. “This is really nice,” I said, running a hand over the wooden molding bordering a leather couch.

“I’m glad you like it. You can freshen up over here.” He indicated toward a bathroom and then disappeared down a hallway.

I did the best I could, cleaning my face and between my legs. Flecks of blood remained stubbornly on my skirt but thankfully the wet patches blended into the navy-blue fabric and wouldn’t be too noticeable. My hair was all over the place.

Christina was going to be all over me when I got back. Despite my attempts at freshening up, it was obvious I’d been ravaged. My cheeks glowed and my eyes sparkled. I looked like an exceptionally satisfied woman.

Josiah came back, meeting me near the couch, this time with a suit coat on. He looked immaculate, like nothing everhappened and he hadn’t had his face in between my thighs fifteen minutes ago.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You look perfect,” I complained. “Also, answer my question. How will this work?”

“I don’t think I need to tell you that my nature is not to be publicly discussed.”

“What would happen if I did? Tell people, I mean.”

He stalked toward me and my back hit the couch. “First of all, I would find that quite upsetting. Second of all, no one would believe you, and you’d look like a fool. I’m certain neither result would be to your benefit.”

“Are you threatening me?”

He paused—which for him meant he went preternaturally still before he spoke. “I will only ever make you promises, Little One, you don’t need to fear me. I will take care of you.”

My heart beat a furious tune in my chest. He was warning me in the absolutenicestway. “I’m not scared of you.”

He grinned, sending a shiver down my spine. “But you are.” He took another step closer, so we were touching, and whispered his lips along the side of my neck. Raising his head, he said, “I won’t eat anyone who is a friend to you.”

He laughed a little after he assured me Ashley and my dad were safe.

My hands slid from his shoulders. “Did you pay for my dad?” I remembered Brett’s reaction to my question when I found I didn’t owe anything.

“I told you I would take care of you,” he said simply, moving toward the door.

“You didn’t ask.” I felt stupid complaining, and I honestly didn’t mind, it was just that I’d always taken care of everything so it was uncomfortable.

I had a routine. I did certain things at certain times and my ducks were in not only a row, but a military-precision line-up. I didn’t like that messed with; it threw me off.

“You’re a little too perfect,” I muttered. “Thank you though.”

His lips separated with a little smile, and I almost thought he was going to shake his head at me again. “You’re the one who’s perfect,” he said, as he led me out of his apartment and back through the bathtub-slaughter room.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Della

---