Page 60 of Because the Night

“Well…”

“Do you think after fifteen-hundred years, I don’t know my own mind?” he asks in his usual calm tone. “I assure you, I do.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“And what I want isyou, so I am going to have you.”

I wrinkle my nose. “What about what I want?”

“Your wants and needs are important and will be seen to. By me.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Lucas, we’re not—”

“Yes, Skye, we are.”

And with that, he rises and steps out of the bath, reaching for a towel. Watching the water running off his body might have me inspired to write bad poetry. It is definitely harder to be angry at him when he’s naked. Not to be shallow or anything. But the magnificence of his buttocks really shouldn’t be underestimated.

“I have some things to discuss with the others,” he says. “I trust you’re fine on your own?”

“This conversation isn’t over.”

He doesn’t even bother to answer. Just walks through to his bedroom, toweling off his dark hair.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

I wake up screaming, sitting bolt upright on the white, cast-iron bed. A moment later the door crashes open and Lucas is there. He grips my shoulders and studies my tear-stained face. My mind is a mess. The remnants of the nightmare are fading, leaving confusion and fear.

“Skye,” he says in a firm voice. “Look at me. Are you all right?”

“Yes. Yeah, I…shit.” I put a hand to his chest and push. He sits back on the mattress, giving me space while I wipe my cheeks dry. Only the dim light from the candles in the parlor light the room. Everything is shadows. “It was just a nightmare.”

He nods.

“I didn’t even think vampires had nightmares or dreams.”

“The mind is a complex thing, sweetie,” says Henry from the doorway. “Trauma can mess with you in all sorts of ways. But you’re safe here with us.”

“Or maybe you don’t feel as secure in this room on your own. That’s easily fixed.” Lucas lifts me and the blanket off the bed. The way he picks me up as if I weigh nothing and carries me around so carefully like I am precious. I kind of need it right now.

“You get that you’re a bully, right?” I ask as he carries me down the hallway back to his bedroom. “I mean, you’ve made peace with that aspect of your personality.”

“Oh, yes,” says Henry, tailing along behind us. “That’s old news. Did I ever tell you about the time in Natal when he—”

And that’s when Lucas kicks the bedroom door shut in his face.

“Harsh,” shouts Henry from out in the hallway.

Lucas sets me on the bed with one of his trademark frowns. He’s wearing a black tee, jeans, and boots. The modern look sure does suit him. Though, he’s so pretty he could pull off anything. I’m in another expensive sleep set made of linen. A flickering white pillar candle sits on the desk. He might have a point; I do like his room. The chunky, wooden four-poster bed and the scent of his cologne lingering in the air. The pictures and so on. How the décor offers hints of his existence through the ages.

“Do you want to tell me about your dream?” he asks.

“No.” I shake my head. “Better to just forget it. What time is it?”

“It’s almost sunset,” he says. “But you should try to go back to sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

“Keep me safe from the demons in my head?” I play with a loose thread on the blanket. And wind up accidentally tearing the thick, woolen material. Just when I thought I had my strength under control. The way that clumsiness remains my chosen undead aesthetic.

He just sits there staring at me all the while. There’s such intensity in his gaze. Like he can read me inside and out; all of my hopes and dreams open to him for perusal. No one has ever been this interested in me. I’m going to miss it when it goes. When his attention moves on to other topics.

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