Page 24 of Blood Descendants
“We both deleted it when we decided to commit to a relationship,” I say with a shrug. “That app is nothing but trouble, so it wouldn’t be that weird of a thing to do once you get really serious. There are other ways to talk to people.”
Ares taps his thumb on the arm rest, thinking. I watch him closely, knowing I have to learn his mannerisms. He looks away while he’s thinking, and I can practically see the gears turning in his head as he considers. “It’s not as strong as I’d like, but I think it’s our best bet. But maybe we need to say we talked online for six months before meeting in person. The longer the time, the more believable.”
I nod. “That sounds good to me. What was our first date? It seems likely someone will ask that.”
Ares taps his thumb again. “If you weren’t sure you could trust me, it was somewhere public. And four weeks ago, that would have been the beginning of May.”
“And a big one here,” I nearly cut him off as the thought occurs to me. “Did I know you’re a vampire before we met in person?”
“I’d say yes,” Ares surprises me when he answers quickly. “I’d told you, but you didn’t necessarily believe me.”
I consider that. I try to imagine it for real, if some guy I was interested in and had been talking to for months had told me he was actually a vampire. In real life, I probably would have thought he was nuts and ghosted him. But for the sake of our story, I let the thought marinate until I can find an outcome that sounds plausible. “I’d told you I’d never beento the top of the Rockefeller Center, so you took me there for our first date. And then we got dinner.”
Ares looks up at me. “You ever actually been?”
I shake my head.
“Good thing you’re already dressed up,” Ares says as a smile starts pulling on his lips. “We’ll go as soon as the sun’s down.”
Chapter 7
And that’s exactly what happens.
As soon as the sun goes down, Ares and I head back downstairs. I don’t know anyone who has their own car and drives themselves around in Manhattan. But Ares, so far, has not gone anywhere without his motorcycle. Once more, we climb on, and he smoothly makes his way across the city. The thought of finding parking everywhere stresses me out, but he never seems to hesitate. He finds the closest parking, and then, hand in hand for show, we head into the Rockefeller.
Only as we’re getting our tickets do I realize the stiffness that’s crept into Ares’ shoulders. Only then do I see his eyes shift to the door twice.
Augustus keeps tabs on Ares, I remember.
We crowd into the elevator with six other people. And my heart jumps into my throat when Ares pulls me to him, sliding his arms around my waist. My own wrap behind his neck, and Ares traces his nose along my skin there.
“We’re being followed,” Ares says, his words so low and quiet, only I can hear them.
I nod almost imperceptibly. “I’ll do my part,” I promise.
On older man with white hair and a chronically unhappy expression clears his throat and takes half a step away from us.
I think that means we’re going the job well.
Ares’ hands slide down lower, and I swear, I hear the breath hitch in his throat, just a little. I lean closer into him, our bodies connecting in the small space.
Not only does Ares look the part of the god he’s named after, he smells incredible. Something musky and clean at the same time. Like wealth and danger bottled into the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever experienced. My forehead rests against his shoulder, against the black fabric of his t-shirt, and I take in a long, slow inhale, his scent branding itself into my memory.
Wrong, wrong, wrong, my brain is screaming at me.You just barely met this man. You know what he is. You know he’s dangerous. Are you really willing to play pretend like this?
But something ancient and primal is there, countering all those arguments. It doesn’t feel like days since I met Ares. I swear it’s been months already. And I was obviously wrong about my first assumptions about him as a vampire. Not once have I ever felt like I was in danger. Quite the opposite. Everything he’s done thus far has made me feel… safe. Protected.
Yet you’ve seen what a great actor he is,the logical part of my brain reminds me.
I don’t want to listen to that part. I shove it back into the recesses of my mind when Ares’ hands slide into my back pockets.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
I want to whisper back,don’t be. But that would be aconfession of how damn good this feels. And that’s just something I can’t admit aloud to the universe.
The doors slide open, and the noise volume increases. The crowd quickly files out around us, and I hate that I suddenly feel cold when Ares disengages from me, taking me only by the hand, and steps out into the space.
There are so many people, and as I pay just a little attention, I hear a dozen different languages spoken around me. I always knew this was one of the top tourist attractions in the world, but it’s kind of humbling to see how many people have made it a goal to visit my home city and are in such awe of it.
