Page 51 of A Heart Of Bitter Poison
Oh how this man loves butter, such a simple little pleasure.
Denied.
He glares at me as I pull the handle of the microwave and retrieve my bowl with a saccharine smile. I retreat to the blender further down the counter and hold his stare as I dump the entire contents into the jug.
“What in the hell are you making?” Cassian asks. His lips curl into a grimace as he watches me place the lid on the jug and set it to pulse.
“Bulletproof bloffee,” I reply, not taking my eyes from Ashen. He folds his arms across his chest and leans against the counter, watching as I turn on the blender.
“Right.” Cassian slides off his stool, mug in hand. “That sounds truly awful. I’m going outside to wait for Bianca and Davina.Ciao.”
Neither of us moves as he leaves the room. I keep my sweet smile pinned on Ashen as I pour my concoction into a large mug, my doe eyes at their most innocent when I take my first sip. Cassian’s right, it’s a bit rank. Greasy coffee is just fucking weird and I have no idea where humans come up with these gross combinations. But there isno fucking waymy face is going to say anything aside from that this is the most delightful drink I’ve ever had.
“Problem, Reaper?”
Ashen pushes away from the counter and takes a step forward, his dry toast forgotten. He levels me with a dangerous look. I have the sudden urge to hop on the counter and let him fuck me senseless. And then kill him with his unused butter knife.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to work.He’s supposed to be the one overcome with desire and I’m supposed to pull his little strings until he dances right into my trap. Whatever trap that is, I haven’t decided yet. Probably more stabbing, that’s pretty fun. Regardless, that murderous look he’s giving me flips the vampire switch and makes me want to start a more dangerous game much faster than I can play it.
I hop on the counter anyway. Surely there’s no harm in that. Sitting is innocent enough, even if I let my thighs drift open as my legs dangle off the edge. I can at least live this part of my sudden little fantasy.
“Something seems amiss. Can I help you find it?” I ask, taking a sip of my bloffee as he prowls closer.
Ashen halts in front of me. He pulls the mug from my hand and raises it to his lips, sniffing it before he takes a tiny sip. He makes a face of disgust before passing it back. “That is fucking atrocious.”
“Then go get your own. I saved you some,” I say, nodding to the coffee pot. There’s probably no more than two mouthfuls left.
Ashen glances at the pot and turns his molten gaze back to me, taking a step closer. His waist brushes my knees and he lays his hands on the edge of the counter, caging me in. A sinful smile tugs at his lips as he lets his eyes rest on my mouth. “Don’t you remember what happened the last time you didn't play nice?”
I take a sip of my coffee and reach out, tracing a finger across Ashen’s throat. “Don’t you?”
We stare at one another in silence, Ashen leaning a little closer as his eyes follow the curve of my lips. I feel their heat. I see the rise and fall of his chest. I smell his familiar scent, ink and unsmoked tobacco and mint drifting through the space between us.
A thread of venom lands on my tongue and I swallow it past the raspy burn in my throat. Ashen could lean a little closer, just a few more inches, and our lips would press together. The kiss would be fierce with all this longing that churns in my chest. Or I could tear his neck apart with my teeth, take all the blood I can drink and stab him right in the heart, sending him back to the Shadow Realm. I could paint the kitchen in the color of his life until his flesh turns to ash. Or I could let him rip my clothes off and spread my legs and feast on me, right here on the cold tiles of the kitchen island.
“There is a war in your eyes, vampire,” Ashen whispers, pulling the mug from my fingers and setting it down on the counter. “I wonder what is going through that terrifying mind of yours.”
“Whether or not to kill you,” I say.
Ashen laughs. That sound… I’d forgotten how warm and precious and rare it is. It transforms his face. He’s always beautiful, but when he laughs he’s radiant. Otherworldly and magnificent. All that seriousness and buried sorrow disappear, if only for a moment.
“I have no doubts that killing is on your mind. But something else is too, I think.”
“You’re right,” I say, nodding, my glare hard and serious. “Howto kill you. That’s also on my mind.”
Ashen laughs again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He leans a little closer. “You forget how expressive your face is, vampire.”
“Right, a major disadvantage I hear. I guess I’ll have to work on that, as someone so kindly suggested to me once.”
We are caught in a moment of silence just looking at one another, our next words and our unmade moves lingering on the edge of a blade. I might be the one with the expressive face, but the hidden language within a body whispers to a vampire. I can hear the tempo of Ashen’s blood pumping faster in his veins. I see the color rise on his cheeks. I don’t miss the faintest trace of vanilla infusing his scent, or the way his pupils expand as his eyes bound between mine.
Ashen moves a little closer. His eyes stray to my lips. His fingers graze my thigh as his body pushes against mine, my legs falling open to make room for him.
“The other Reaper, I assume,” Bianca’s voice says with a hint of amusement. Ashen lets out a long breath and backs away from me, turning to face her as she approaches. My heart thuds erratically in my chest, the poor, broken thing. And there’s only more abuse to come. I can already tell by the way Bianca holds one hand behind her back.
Davina enters the kitchen behind Bianca, followed by Cassian. Davina’s gaze travels from me to Ashen, then rests on the witch as though she’s the only safe place to look. Any trace of Ashen’s former levity has definitely disappeared in what feels like the most awkward moment in history. And when you’ve been alive for five thousand years, that’s really saying something.
“Buon giorno,” Ashen says, giving Bianca a polite bow of his head. “Sono Ashen, di Casa Urbigu.”
