Page 18 of Wicked Bonds
“I’d like to keep it that way,” I mutter, feeling exhausted. The adrenaline is gone and what’s left leaves me wanting to take a nap for a week, or punch a wall. Maybe both.
“You are vulnerable, Rose. There are things here that would—” He stops just short of ominous, then says, “You need to be careful who you trust.”
“Who says I trust anyone?” I ask. I let the silence fill up, and it gets weirdly heavy.
Lucien stands by my desk, hands at his sides, the veins on his wrists like blue ink under snow. He looks carved, unbreakable, but I see the little cracks in his composure. I wonder what it’s like to be a centuries-old monster with a code of conduct and the job of babysitting magical delinquents.
“I’m serious. You’re not safe here,” he says. “Not from Soren, not from me, not from anyone.”
“Then why am I here?” I demand.
“You’re here because someone decided you were worth more alive than dead. That doesn’t mean you’re not in danger.”
I want to laugh, but it would come out wrong. “So, what? I just learn how to fight off incubi and keep my head down until graduation?”
He glances at the blankets knotted around my body. “You’d be better off learning how to use what you have.” He says it like an accusation.
“I don’t have anything,” I snap. “Whatever magic was supposed to be in my bloodline, my mother smothered it. All I’ve got is a dead plant and a mark that feels like it’s going to eat through my arm.”
He’s silent for a minute. Then, “That’s not quite true.”
I stare at him. “What, you’re going to tell me I need to unlock my ‘true power’ before I get murdered by the next supernatural asshole who visits in the night? No wait!” I open my eyes as wide as I can. “AmIthechosenone?” I put enough sarcasm in mytone that even a humorless vampire with a stick up his ass won’t miss it.
Lucien’s eyes narrow, the red in them dulling down to a deep maroon. “You think this is a joke?” he says. “You think you are nothing special?” He steps closer. “The Coven has been looking for you your whole life.”
“Maybe they just want a really mediocre bartender for their next party,” I mutter.
He ignores that. “Your mother did everything in her power to keep you hidden. It almost worked. But now, you’re here. And every predator in our world can sense it.”
I hold his gaze. “So what do you want from me, Lucien?”
He opens his mouth, closes it. For a second, I almost see the man under the monster. Then he says, “To keep you alive.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s my job,” he says, too fast. “And because you deserve better than this.”
He’s still standing way too close.
“Do you want to fuck me or eat me?” I ask, blunt.
The question snaps something in him, and for a moment, he bares his fangs. “Both,” he says. “But I won’t do either unless you ask.”
“Wow.” I shake my head, half in disbelief, half because if I don’t keep moving I might actually have a breakdown. “Consent king. My hero.”
I pull the blanket tighter and square up to him. “If you’re going to warn me about the Covens and the contracts and the monsters, at least give me something I can use. How do I survive this place?”
Lucien’s gaze drops to my hand, to the angry red mark still healing there. “You find allies. You never, ever trust kindness.”
That might be the best advice I’ve gotten since stepping across the gates of this funhouse.
He doesn’t wait, just turns on his heel and walks out, the door closing behind him. I let the silence run a full minute before I drop the blanket and stare at the ceiling.
There’s no sleeping after that, so I stay that way until the sun rises. I don’t expect Soren to keep his promise, but he doesn’t come back. Neither does the ghost boy, for which I’m both grateful and, in some odd way, disappointed.
Nine
Rose
