Page 157 of Disillusioned
“You were the one who commanded me to you,” she seethed, reddening. “It was the first time I felt your pull.”
Garin frowned, as if he had more to add to the matter. But he only said, “Ifever necessary, if I am ever past reason, youwilldrive that stake through me.”
Lilac refused to think of the cloth-wrapped stake in her bedside drawer. She’d never use it on him. “I don’t know who’d be brazen enough to send that bottle of wine here.”
“Well, let’s think. You’re in no short supply of those less than fond of you who’d consider it an amusing joke,” Garin growled. “Have your guard investigate discreetly. I’ll deal with the culprit when they’re found.”
By now, her vision had adjusted to the dimness of the makeshift room of curtains. He looked tired, purple-gray shadows under his eyes. Drained, even as he regarded her in morbid fascination.
Lilac tossed the cloth aside. “You need to eat. You’re unwell.”
“Thanks.” Garin looked pointedly at the plates she’d brought him. “I’ll sleep it off.”
“Did you bring any blood from the inn?”
“Yes, several bottles. Lori spelled them to keep for a few days. I can go back for more when needed, but those are tucked deep in Myrddin’s travel chest. Where is he, anyway?”
“I just heard him downstairs, probably in the northern corridor. I suspect he was singing them to sleep. He was the one who told me he’d handle things and advised I come see you.” She’d last seen him in the foyer after he’d escorted her and Piper back out the western corridor. “I could go get a bottle for you.”
“No,” Garin said before she could get up. A small gasp erupted from Lilac’s throat. Her thighs burned just as she felt her knees lock, her bottom pressing firmly into the chair cushion. Eyes darkening at the startled gasp that erupted from Lilac’s throat, he froze, self-assessing. “I’m not hungry at the moment,” he added softly. “I’m sorry.”
Granted, there was none of the calculated voracity that had marred his countenance at the brothel, but Garin didn’t looknothungry.
“Your hesitation is understandable after everything at The Fool's Folly,” she offered. “But you should eat something.”
“I’ve had plenty,” he chuckled dryly. “You are simply my preference.”
“Oh.” Lilac forced herself to think of anything but the sear of his fangs: pastries,Bisousig, the cool breeze upon her balcony… The sickening heat of The Fool's Folly.Shit. The wide set of apothecary shelves across the room. “And mortal food will only make it worse.”
“Madame Kemble already tried feeding me an apple. I gave her fair warning it wouldn’t stay down—and it didn’t. Along with the rest of Hedwig’s lovely supper.”
He needed sustenance. His hunger would catch up to him sooner or later. “I saw Kemble’s bucket. Everything you threw up.”
“I wouldn’t dream of taking it from you, not by biting you. Vampires cannot be glamored. Not even by Myrddin.” Curiosity crept into his expression, his slate eyes dancing as he leaned forward. “Have you ever touched yourself while bleeding?”
The low growl of his dropped voice scraped across Lilac’s spine. “What?” she spat, aghast. “No.No.”
“It might help.” Garin shrugged, his mouth tilted. He didn’t even attempt to hide his morbid fascination. “Have you had someone else do it? That Rupert, perhaps?”
She hadn’twantedit, but she’d be lying through her teeth if she said she hadn’t considered it before tonight—especially after meeting Garin. The thought of something so obscene was repulsive. Distracting. She lifted her chin as her haughty voice wavered. “I haven’t with Rupert.” And just because she’d climb onto Garin’s stupid, smug face the moment he suggested it, she flusteredly added, “And I won’t with you. I told you at dinner, I belong to Maximilian.”
Reminded, Garin ran his tongue over his teeth and nodded curtly, the hunger fading from his eyes. “I understand wanting to abstain for your new king of a husband.”
“Emperor.”
His lips pursed. “Right.”
Lilac clenched her thighs together, infuriated. Even through her bleed, she could tell how wet she’d grown. As her regnant, he knewpreciselywhat his presence did to her. The hungrier Garin was, the more of a menace he’d be. The more intensely she’d feel everything—this lasting loathing and longing. How was she supposed to hold herself from him, conduct herself, when his very presence edged her into temptation?
She eyed the scalpel and empty cup Kemble left for his bloodletting.
Garin remained silent when she stood, plucked the scalpel from thetray, and nervously held it over her wrist. The blade was long. It could do real damage to herself if she sliced the wrong way.He shifted, tossing the blanket off, dangling his legs over the side of the cot so he could sit up to watch her.
He was wearing a different pair of brown trousers Kemble must’ve given him.
“As emperor,” Garin said, clearly unable to refrain from talking himself into a deeper hole, “Maximilian is allowed to have several beautiful mistresses at his disposal, before your marriage ceremony and after. But one public word ofyourinfidelity, and you’re done for. To the gallows for Lilac Trécesson.”
“Eleanor of the House of Habsburg, thank you,” she corrected. “Though, I wouldn’t put it past you to be the very one to tell him of our trysts.”
