Page 52 of Rebel Spell
I glanced at the door leading into her apartment. Was she upstairs in bed sleeping? A yearning rose to go to her, to wake her up with kisses all down her body. I’d make her cry out in pleasure before I entered her silky-soft body and then sink my fangs into her delicious veins. I walked over and placed my hand on her door.
Walk away. Walk away now.
Forcing my fists to my side, I stopped myself from acting on that plan. After the way I acted, would she want anything to do with me anymore? I doubted it. Besides, why would she get involved with a vampire when she could have any guy she wanted? I’d been fooled by a vampire. I wouldn’t want Nova to get involved with one—even if it was me.
She deserved better.
When I wokethe next morning, Nova remained at the forefront of my mind. I went downstairs to get a pouch of blood. Sebastian stood statue still in the kitchen, nostrils flared.
“What’s up with you, man?”
He snapped out of whatever daze he was in. “It’s this scent. Someone must have been here lately. It’s been driving me crazy.”
Who had been there as of late? “The real estate agent came by on Monday.”
Sebastian nodded, but didn’t seem convinced. “Maybe that’s it.”
“Are you all right?” I asked. “You seem off.”
He rolled his head from left to right, making a cracking sound. “I’m fine. It’s just… unfamiliar.” That distant expression remained on his face. “I need to get ready to go into the restaurant.”
After he ran up the stairs two-at-a-time, I entered the kitchen. My gaze traveled to Nova’s door. I opened the fridge and downed one of the pouches of cold blood to try to drive away the hunger to go to her.
A few minutes passed with me pacing through the living room, wrestling with what to do. Unable to take it any longer, I strode back through the kitchen and raised my hand to knock on the door. When I heard her speaking to someone on the phone, I stopped. The conversation sounded tense.
Scolding myself not to eavesdrop, I forced myself to walk away.
Nova
The conversation wasn’t going well.
After a restless night trying to sort through all the info, I’d Facetimed my mother. True to form, she made it all about her from the start.
“I’ve been meaning to call you, Nova,” she said. “We’ve been so busy. You know how things get down here.”
Sure. She didn’t have a job, let alone two. What did she know about being busy? Getting her hair and nails done for the next golf event?
Biting that statement back, I chose to focus on the reason for my call. “Yes, Mom.”
“Where are you? It doesn’t look like your apartment.”
“I’m in Aunt Margaret’s house.”My house, my house.Would I ever get around to thinking of it as mine?
My mom wrinkled her nose. “Oh. I should have recognized thedecor.”
“Yes, Mom, you should. After all she was your sister.”
“Have you gotten the house on the market yet?”
“No. I never said that it was definite. And that’s not why I called,” I snapped in frustration.
“Why did you call?” My mom asked.
I took a deep breath and rubbed my forehead. I couldn’t see this conversation going anywhere without escalating tension.
“Aunt Margaret left me a letter.”
My mom’s face dropped. “Oh, did she?” Although she attempted for a neutral mask, the false lilt gave her anxiety away.
