Page 63 of Redeemed
THE ROOM STINKS of power. Most of it comes from Madame Delia Packard, who gives the impression that she’s amused by the four of us who accompanied Trajan. Her reasons for asking him to do this deed are clear enough—everyone wants a piece of Betancourt—but I still don’t trust her.
Trajan straightens slowly, as if he’s feeling every year he’s been on this earth. The new vampire, Peter, clamors about being hungry. Trajan steps aside and Gillian takes her lover to another room, where presumably there’s a food source.
“Keep an eye on him,” Madame Packard calls after her. “Don’t let him drain anybody.”
“Of course, Madame.” Gillian laughs, and I don’t want to think about any of this too hard.
David is the first to reach Trajan. I hang back because I’m not sure of the reception I’ll get. They murmur together, and Trajan assures David he’s okay. When Trajan looks up and catches my eye, the last of my doubts fade.
Trajan Gall has reached for power and claimed it.
Sheena leaves her post in the doorway and wraps an arm around Trajan’s shoulders. They share a long glance, as if Sheena’s repeating David’s questions without putting them into words. Once he’s reassured her, Trajan turns to me.
“Okay,amore mio? I think it’s time to go.”
I nod, unable to speak. The weight of our baggage, our hits and our misses, is almost too heavy to bear.
“Thank you, Trajan Gall. You have made Gillian very happy, which makes me very happy.” Madame Packard is still seated, the bearded vampire still at her side like a sullen sentry.
“Madame Packard.” Trajan bows in her direction. He’s got David under one arm and Sheena under the other. “Unless there’s anything else, we’ll leave you to your evening.”
“You can find your way out, yes?”
He assures her we can, and I make a break for the door. I tuck my arm through Cliffe’s because the poor girl looks like she’s seen a ghost and make a beeline for the car.
The ride back is fairly silent. Cliffe is in front with me so Trajan doesn’t have to let go of David and Sheena. Cliffe’s worrying a bracelet, as if she needs to keep her hands busy and that’s the only thing available. “Don’t suppose I can smoke?” she ask, pitching her voice low.
“I heard that.” David sounds a little drunk. “And this is a no-smoking zone.”
“Hmmph.” Cliffe goes back to her bracelets and I go back to navigating traffic.
We get to the hotel in a lot less time than it took us to get to Madame Packard’s. I park, but before we get out, Sheena claps a hand on Cliffe’s shoulder. “You’re coming with me, right?”
Cliffe gives her a shy smile. “That’d be great.”
Sheena’s next question is for me. “Tomorrow we meet to plan our next steps?”
“Yeah. We could do it tonight, but…”
Sheena laughs hard at that. “You really are clueless.”
Ignoring her, I open the door and get out. Sheena and Cliffe take off; Cliffe talking about how she’s studied krav maga and would be happy to help us fight. My feet are apparently stuck to the pavement and only when David comes over and loops his arm through mine can I move.
If the car ride was quiet, those six floors on the elevator are like hiding in a tomb. Even David’s got a faraway look in his eye, as if he’s imagining life without our threesome.
Because honestly, after the way I doubted him, Trajan would be within his rights to kick me to the curb.
David’s the first one to the door. He swipes the keycard and heads in. I’m the last one through. I can’t seem to take more than a step or two. It’s like I’m waiting for the ax to fall or something.
Trajan’s got his back to me. He does something that makes David smile, then spins around. He slams me against the door, his forearm jammed under my chin. “You,” he says. Our gazes clash and hold.
And he kisses me.
He’s hungry and oh, so strong. He jams a knee between my legs and the pressure of his arm against my throat makes me light-headed. His mouth demands entrance and I open to him. He tastes different, as if I’m kissing a stranger, but that doesn’t stop me from kissing him back.
We writhe together, and when he tires of my mouth, he works his way down my throat. His fangs scratch my skin, and though he nips, he doesn’t bite. I rock my hips on his thigh and he growls. The rough sound lights me up and I need to feel his skin against mine.
It’s been so long since we were this close. I lose sight of what he deserves and what I should have done and get lost in the sensation of his big hard body next to mine.
