Page 26 of Hot Blooded
Reign
I make it home the following afternoon. I have little choice but to leave and go off and feed before returning. I won’t risk Tressa by staying. Not when she’s there—tempting as fuck—and bleeding in my kitchen. I’d wanted to check on her, make sure she was okay, but I didn’t trust myself just then. I’d called Mrs. Potts from the driveway and ordered her to tend to Tressa’s wound.
I’d assumed she’d let Alastair feed from her. I’d been so angry I was seeing red. Mrs. Potts had set me straight—telling me about Tressa’s injury with a knife in the kitchen. Still, my brother’s actions were unforgivable.
None of what happened was Tressa’s fault and I’ll make sure she understands that when I see her today. I can’t have her thinking she did something wrong when my immature, jackass of a brother is the one to blame. He’s always been an if-it-feels-good-do-it kind of guy. I doubt he even tried to restrain himself. Tressa is very tempting and very deliciously-scented. And Alastair didn’t hesitate to take what was not his to take.
He’s called me twice since our fight in the kitchen yesterday and texted me numerous times. I haven’t even bothered to read his messages. I’m sure it’s forgiveness he’s after, but I’m not ready to bestow that upon him yet. He’s fucked up, royally this time. Tressa is not a vessel for him to indulge in.
When I make it home, I pull into the six-car garage and park my Tesla at the end.
Inside, it’s quiet and calm. The calm before the storm. Part of me wishes I could sit here forever. Of course, I can’t. I climb out of the car reluctantly.
As I make my way through the kitchen, foyer, and living room, I don’t see another soul. But when I reach the second floor, I find Tressa in the hallway, she’s just exiting the library and she stops suddenly when she sees me.
“Reign,” she breathes out the word. I still love the sound of it on her lips, even if I am angry at the moment.
The air between us crackles with uncertainty.
I part my lips and inhale. “I can smell him on you.”
“Mrs. Potts bandaged my finger.” She holds it up. Her thumb is concealed in a bundle of white gauze. The sight of it makes me feel uneasy.
“Good. Keep it that way.” My voice comes out strained.
“I will.” She fidgets, tucking a length of her hair behind one shoulder. “Mrs. Potts said it was deeper than she expected. It may take a few days to heal.”
The pull between us is getting stronger. My need for her is growing more desperate. And as mad as I am at Alastair, I really can’t blame him for what’s happened. She spilled her blood in his presence, I doubt I would have been strong enough to resist either. I’m thankful that I found them when I did or things might have ended very differently. It’s not a scenario I can even let myself consider. I shudder at the thought.
We’re still standing in the hallway, still watching each other cautiously when Tressa speaks again. “I made plans with Lenatonight. I didn’t know if you’d be home.” She fidgets again, growing restless.
“Lena?” I inquire.
“The caretaker, at your neighbor’s estate,” she reminds me.
Of course. I’ve already forgotten about the neighbor girl Tressa had mentioned. But she’s about Tressa’s age, so I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that they’ve been in contact and made plans. Maybe that will be good for Tressa—some human contact beyond Mrs. Potts. As lovely as my estate manager’s company is, it will be healthy for Tressa to socialize with other humans.
“That’s fine. As long as you feel up to it.”
She smiles gently. “I told you, I’m fine.”
That’s debatable. She’s lucky, is what she is. Part of me still wants to kill Alastair.
“Why did you leave?” Tressa asks, a little crinkle marring her brow.
“One truth?” I ask.
Tressa nods slowly, her eyes large and dark and serious.
“I didn’t trust myself around you,” I admit on an exhale.
She meets my eyes with a brave expression. “And now?”
It’s a great question, and one I intend to answer. But I don’t want to feed Tressa some line just to placate her.
“For the time being,” I say. If Tressa senses that I’m deflecting, she doesn’t call me on my bullshit, and I’m thankful for that. “Come with me?” I ask, directing her by the elbow down the hall. We have more to discuss, that’s for certain. But hell, Ishouldn’t have touched her just now. It’s like I’m actually trying to conspire against myself here. I drop my hand suddenly from the radiant warmth that is her glowing body.
Her gaze catches me at that moment, and I know she has something to tell me. Another secret, perhaps?
