Page 46 of Your Coffin or Mine
I belatedly wonder if Frank can come up with some concoction to keep me from wanting to bite her. The sunscreen seems to work effectively, so why not something that could prevent me from hurting her in the future? That would require me admitting this flaw I have with her, and that may make him ask questions. I will have to be cunning about it.
Breathing deeply when I enter my study, I pour a glass of scotch and knock it back as I wait.Doyle will come. I know he will.
Twenty minutes later, he finally steps into the room, looking concerned, and I can already tell what he’s thinking.
“You almost attacked her, didn’t you?” Doyle sighs and reaches for the decanter himself. “Humans bleed too easily, and you haven’t fed in decades. If you would just stay away from her...”
“Have you smelled her?” I ask, wondering if she calls to him the way she does me, the way I cannot smell or think of anything but her.
I watch him as he tilts his head to the side and shrugs.The bastard has.I growl menacingly and he flinches. As well he should.She is mine.
“What am I supposed to do, plug my nose?” He wrinkles it as the scotch pours into his glass. “You two have the entire castle full of pheromones.”
I roll my eyes in distaste, my fury subsiding. “Hmmph. She was hurt and all I could do was stand there like an idiot before falling on her like some sex-crazed buck in a rut. I should have more control.”
He frowns over his glass when he lifts it to his mouth. “I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself, really. I mean, as long as she was, well, you know.”
I lower my own glass. “What?”
“From what I can smell, she wants you just as much, but I think her emotions are a bit all over the place. She’s just scared, Vlad. You forget what time is so quickly because you have so much of it. You’ve known the girl three days.”
“I know.”
“Give her time. She’s fine, it was just a scratch, hardly bleeding, but as cold as her hands were, I’m sure it didn’t feel nice.” He stops to take a sip of his drink before setting it on the table. “I sent her to her room with some milk and cookies. Maybe I should send wine?”
“I want to speak with Frank soon. Perhaps he has some ideas on how I can keep my urges at bay in such circumstances. And no, don’t get her drunk, for fuck’s sake. I’m barely hanging on to my sanity.”
The thought of her lush and willing has my blood boiling, but something about alcohol loosens the inhibitions in humans, and I want her to be aware every time I take her. I want her to know who it is inside her, fucking her perfect heat and filling her until she shatters. Watching her as she breaks apart.
“With Jekyll at his disposal, I’m sure they can come up with something to keep the guests safe while here,” Doyle says, interrupting my thoughts. “We just have to be careful with what we tell them. They don’t know about the hotel yet.”
I eye him a moment, my thoughts snagging on the words “guests” and “hotel.” The notion that I’m not so concerned with anyone else crosses my mind. “Reach out and let me know what they say. I’m willing to try if it will keep ourguestssafe.”
“What if we tell her you’re indisposed? I can keep her busy with things around the castle.”
I growl, the sound reverberating out of my chest, and my lips curl into a snarl. “You will not touch her.”
His eyebrows raise. “Should I be worried about how possessive you’re acting right now? Do you hear yourself? Ignoring the fact that you would question my honor, have you looked in the mirror lately?”
“No?”
“You might need to eat again,” he says, eyeing my face oddly, then nods. “At the very least, eat again. You’re sweating.”
“This is all a side effect, most likely from my body regenerating too quickly—or the sunscreen. It must be the sunscreen,” I mumble to myself. It has been almost a hundred years, after all.
“Jekyll wouldn’t allow anyone to alter the sunscreen,” Doyle offers, then sighs heavily, setting his glass onto the table before pulling the lapels of the coat he insists on wearing. “Vlad, just make sure you’re not making the same mistake as you did with Angelique.”
“Aubrey is nothing like Angelique. That woman was a viper in sheep’s clothing.”
“Yes, well here you are, with the same circumstances, actually. You chasing a woman and being all chivalrous.”
“The circumstances aren’t remotely similar. Angelique knew what I was from the start and was hell-bent on becoming a vampire. And we all know how that turned out,” I say, and Doyle shudders, his lips flattening. “It’s a moot point—she’s nothing like her.”
“No, I can’t say she is,” he agrees.
Angelique paid a small fortune to a perfumer to create a concoction made with a rare flower to seduce me, and once she realized I would never turn her, took it badly, to say the least. Crazy, odious woman.
I go still when I feel a slight vibration in my pocket. A notification flashes on my screen that Aubrey has posted a photo. A smile pulls at my mouth at the sight of her in the snow, and a sense of pride washes over me that she would post a pictureItook.
