Page 167 of Disillusioned
“Okay.” She didn’t know what to say, stunned into silence. “So? Have you found it? The book, I mean.”
“No,” he answered curtly.
“And so…” She waited, expecting there to be more to his story. Garin said nothing. “So you searched my grandfather’s office on the night of the Ermengarde trial. You didn’t look in our library or anywhere else back then? That’s it?”
“No. I left that night, though Edith and I kept in contact for a short while after that.”
It was hard to believe that was the end of what happened with the red book—also, that he’d waited fifty more years to look for it again, on the off chance he’d ever returned to the Trécesson castle. He’d never mentioned it to her until now.
It was unlike Garin to give up, but the intensity of his stare killed her curiosity.
“You’re cold,” he observed, shrugging out of his black coat lined in gold filigree. He draped it over her.
Lilac clamped a hand to her mouth to smother a cry of surprise and pressed herself against his chest. Warmth enveloped her entire body once the coat rested on her shoulders.
“Herlinde sent me with a few garments that would emulate mortal body heat, since mine waxes and wanes depending on how recently I’ve eaten.”
Marveling, Lilac reached for his hand. When he pulled it away, she stroked her fingers along the hollow of his cheek, the defined structure of his jawbone. With the heat of the garment quickly fading, his skin was nearly as cold as the room.
“You need to eat. Something more than milk and bread.” Lilac couldn’t hide her enthusiasm, yanking her sleeve up her forearm.
“So desperate to feel my fangs inside you.” He bent his head and pressed his mouth to her inner wrist, flooding her body with a painful thrill. “Should my pitiful disguise falter for any reason, you’ll have more blood on your hands than we’ll know what to do with when I walk out of this room, eyes red as the fringe of dusk.”
“But my blood doesn’t turn your eyes red,” she finally said.
Garin laughed. “All mortal blood does.”
“Then why are yours gray now when it’s only been a couple days?”
“Myrddin and Lorietta suggested it might’ve been a one-time occurrence after the completion of our bond.”
He seemed satisfied with that answer. Whether they’d genuinely thought that was what had happened or, for some reason, wanted todownplay the phenomena, Lilac didn’t argue further. At the brothel, her blood had appeared to do theoppositefor him. The witches had said magic was fickle. She couldn’t offer him her wrist or throat without being completely sure. Maybe it only worked this way when his eyes were already red.
How, then, could she explain the silver stardust of his eyes after he’d first drank from her in her tower?
She wasn’t sure ofanythingunder his hungry gaze. Who he was. Whom she’d become, the things she wanted. What she feared… and what she’d risk.
His eyes grew wide. Lilac bit her lip invitingly as he leaned in.
But he only reached past her waist to grab the doorknob. “I’m sorry. I need air.”
Foolish. “Yes, of course.”
“I should get to those bottles.” Apology shadowed his tone. “Our room’s in the hall just there.”
Lilac pushed herself off the door to let him open it, but there was a sudden sound in the distance. They both froze, Garin’s arm instinctively slinking around her middle, pulling her body against his. Gently, he guided her around him, until he stood between her and the door.
A door creaked open, then shut in the hallway. “Hello?” It was Rupert, voice barely above a whisper. “Ciel?” He seemed to linger in place for a moment. “Ciel?” His footsteps jogged in their direction. “Anyone?”
Being caught together wouldn’t be as bad if Ciel’s body wasn’t slumped behind her.
“Fuckers,” Rupert muttered to himself. He was right outside their door.
Garin’s shoulders tensed when another door creaked open in the hall.
“Rupert, what is all that noise?” It was Emma. “You’ll wake everyone.”
“The armory guard isn’t here. They need me out east,” Rupert said, his voice retreating. “I was supposed to meet Ciel here for my supplies.”
