Page 128 of Fated In Blood

I had a job to do. Get my sister away from Tyrell and get us both somewhere safe. I didn’t care what anyone else said, the bastard was compelling her or had brainwashed her, because there was no way Angel chose that depraved life willingly.

No way. Except…

I bit my lips, reliving last night.

The feeding, the sex, the power. Everything about being a vampire was seductive. Carnal. Addicting. I could—theoretically—understand how Angel might get caught up in this, but with Tyrell?

My sister was sweet and good, and he was the epitome of chaotic evil.

I tossed off the covers and paced over to the dresser, flipping on the light. Morning was a few hours away, but I was wired, either from Riordan’s blood or the earth-shattering sex, and I’d never go back to sleep.

The shopping bags contained a bewildering selection of clothes—and after the first price tag nearly gave me a heart attack, I stopped looking—but I found a buttery soft shirt and a pair of jeans that fit me like a glove then headed for the kitchen.

Coffee first, existential crisis second.

Crimson House reminded me of one of those houses on HGTV where someone with no renovation experience started a huge project with no idea of what they were getting into. The place had good bones and beautiful detailing, but every surface needed work, from the cracked plaster ceilings to the warped parquet floors.

And if Riordan had ten million for Malachi, why was the house—hishouse—in such utter disrepair?

The kitchen was old but functional, the ancient refrigerator humming loudly enough to be heard halfway across town, the pipes knocking together when I filled up the coffee pot. The ancient machine took forever, but the familiar gurgle calmed me, the smell winding through my senses, and my first sip?

Pure heaven.

I didn’t so much hear Blake come in as the air in the kitchen changed, a shiver of anticipation that rippled through the cool morning silence, skating across my skin and leaving goosebumps behind.

“You’re up early, little slayer.”

Ah, so we were back to that.

Maybe he was jealous—maybe he had a right to be—maybe all those words yesterday were just words. But I didn’taskfor Riordan to sneak into my dreams last night and work his vampire voodoo magic on me.

So fine, if Blake wanted to throw walls up between us…

My fingers tightened on the handle of my cup.No. No, I wasn’t playing these stupid games any longer. Wasn’t taking one step forward and two steps back, dancing around our feelings and pretending none of this mattered when it mattered more than anything ever had.

“I couldn’t sleep. I made fresh coffee if you’d like some, Blake.”

He prowled through the door straight to the coffee, tight black shirt accentuating every bulge of his powerful body, face schooled into an unreadable mask, dragging that haze of shadowing with him. After yesterday, I resented that Blake couldn’t be open with me, that hehadto hide.

“Was the bed not to your liking?” Again, doubt edged the question, as if he wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing. “We can get you?—”

“The bed was fine, Blake. More than fine, it was probably the nicest bed I’ve ever slept in. These are certainly the nicest clothes I’ve ever worn. Thank you for making me comfortable. Thank you for thinking about me, that means a lot.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said stiffly. “It was all Rohr’s idea.” His back stayed to me as he poured his coffee, the steam curling around his body, accentuating how tense his shoulders were. He was beautiful, powerful in a way humans could never be, and utterly baffling with this warm-cold act.

A declaration of affection, then this.

Promises I never thought I’d hear, then a cold mask I couldn’t pry off with a crowbar. Unless…unless the mask wasn’t to hide behind, but a protection to keep him safe.

I’d been brought up with men who gave me harsh orders and had strict expectations. I was punished when I disappointed them and left alone when I succeeded. I’d never bothered to ponder their inner thoughts; I’d tried to stay out of their way.

But yesterday, watching that smile gild his beautiful face, the way that light lit him up from the inside made something inside me settle, like I’d found a port in a storm.

Blake wasn’t like anyone I’d ever known.

He was good and kind, his grumpy, dark facade masking a heart softer than any I’d ever encountered.

He made me feel so safe, I could almost believe that maybe, one day, I’d get that happy ending. And maybe that was wishful thinking, but I wanted it to be true.

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