Page 29 of Fangs for the Memories
“We have to go. There could be more of them,” he says as the lights come back but dimmer than before.
“My stuff?”
“Gone,” Viktor says, heaving me to my feet, my legs not wanting to work. He hurries me towards the stairs and half carries me down to the ground floor.
“Gone?” I force out.
“Those were Darasz. They were wraiths sent to kill you, but they’ll use up anything which has the scent of their mark.”
“Use up?”
“Consume.”
“They ate my clothes? Like moths?” Not for the first time today, a hysterical laugh rises within me.
“Not like moths. Like predators,” Viktor says grimly as he shoves me into the car. It swings away swiftly from the hotel, winding back through the late evening traffic, across the Danube, and back to Ferenc’s place.
I hate he’s right. I hate the fact it wasn’t safe for me to stay in the hotel on my own. All I wanted with this trip was to lick my wounds and spend some time with the one person I thought I could rely on. Me.
Except my heart has other ideas, happily at war with my head once again. Because the treacherous organ is always such a good judge of my life and what I need.
Now look where I am. In the heart of a werewolf mafia boss’s lair with only the clothes I stand up in, with a borrowed coat in an unfamiliar country.
Turns out I really, really can’t rely on myself to make good decisions. Which leaves me at a complete loss.
I don’t even look where Viktor is taking me until I end up back in the bedroom from earlier.
Ferenc’s bedroom.
“Stay here. Ferenc will be back soon,” Viktor says.
“Like I have anywhere else to go,” I spit out in response.
“I am sorry your clothing was destroyed,” Viktor replies. “I’m sure Ferenc will replace what was lost.”
“He should do.” I turn away from the huge gargoyle. “This is all his fault.”
I kick the door shut but guilt hits me instantly. I shouldn’t take it out on the big stone gargoyle, even if he probably has a thick enough skin.
I shouldn’t be mourning the loss of a wardrobe, but when it was the only thing I owned, the only thing I had left, it cuts me to the core.
Even though I don’t want to, I curl up on the huge bed, and the tears leak from my eyes, dripping onto the expensive silk eiderdown. I’m probably ruining it, but there’s absolutely nothing I can do.
My life is a complete mess. Only now there are werewolves.
Ferenc
Viktor is looking particularly imposing in the lobby of my apartment building when I arrive back. His face is somehow stonier than usual.
“Everything okay?”
“There were Darasz waiting for us at the Géllert. In Grace’s room,” he says. “This is more than just vampires.”
My heartbeat ramps up faster than it has ever been even in the midst of battle. I can’t help myself but to shift into my werewolf form, fabric ripping around me as I do.
“Did they hurt her?” I force past fangs too large for proper speech.
Viktor drops a rock-like hand on my shoulder. “She is unharmed, perfectly safe, and back in your bedroom,” he says before fixing me with his blue flickering gaze. “Presumably where you wanted her.”
