Page 81 of The Way You Bite
Chapter Twenty-Four
She jogged into the house, a mansion in comparison to her two-bedroom apartment, and discovered a stocked bathroom on the second floor. She clicked the door lock into place. Absurd to lock the door. Any creature in this house could barge through the door with a pinky finger, but the illusion of privacy comforted her.
After a long shower, she hopped out and stumbled, stifling a scream. Trace sat on the closed toilet, picking at his nails. She yanked a towel off the wall rack and wrapped it tight.
He glanced up, unapologetic. “We’re leaving. Carol negotiated some sort of deal with Dominic.”
Her stomach dropped. Carol must’ve freaked out at her communication silence and no-show in Atlanta.
Trace held up his phone. “Got a voice message from Dominic earlier saying she flew back to North Carolina to negotiate a deal to get you out of everything—marriage, the treatment, the country. We go to them, you tell them all you know about Aleksander, and then they let you leave the country with Carol.”
“Dominic would never agree to that. Do you have independent confirmation from Carol?”
“Carol called and confirmed, but…” Trace scrubbed his face. “I never trust Dominic. The duplicitous asshole would kill anyone, if it helps him.”
“I’m worried about her.” She chewed on her lip. Carol might be well connected, which was why Dominic had left her alone until now, but since Dominic aligned himself with the DiFalcos he thought himself untouchable. That alignment depended on her marrying Ambrose. He’d do anything to make sure his new alliance remained intact.
“I think she waded into a shitfest of trouble and might get herself killed.” He sat up straight. “That’s unacceptable. We don’t randomly kill our own, especially our ancient ones.”
“You want to go rescue Carol? By yourself?”
“I’ll get Carol back. She and you are the only family that matters.”
At least Trace had some scruples, even if reckless. “Why would Dominic text you after you’d been taken by wolves? It assumes he knows they won’t hurt me or you. That’s dangerous and means this can only end in him killing us.”
“Dominic thinks we both escaped the wolves and I took you somewhere he can’t find. He knows I don’t trust his intent with you.”
“Do you mind stepping out while I get dressed and then we’ll talk more about this?” She raised her eyebrows and gestured a leave-now. “I’m not discussing anything else undressed.”
He held up his hands. “Fine. Three minutes. If you’re not ready, I’m coming back in.”
She didn’t breathe as he stalked out, expecting awhat-the-hellexplosion when he noticed the exposed bite scar on her shoulder. Her breath shot out as he closed the door behind him. Typical Trace. He rarely noticed details when focused on a problem.
She glanced around, disappointed it’d been Trace and not Lexan. All that flowery shit about them being right together and he was just letting her walk away? The female deep inside her wanted him to fight for her and for them. She wanted him to compromise. A start would be to discuss him not locking her up like a princess in a tower, relegated to waiting at home for Mr. Alpha.
She couldn’t run south to rescue Carol either alone or with Trace. By this point, Dominic would be livid with embarrassed fury, enough to kill her on sight, matrimony plans or not. And Ambrose. She shuddered. After their last encounter he’d also be murderous.
Carol would only negotiate with Dominic if she thought the vamps still had her, and she would consider Vee to be at risk being with Trace. Dominic agreeing to the proposition had to be a double cross. Classic Dominic tactic.
Lexan should’ve let her contact Carol.
With a deep breath, she pulled it together. What was she supposed to wear? Her old clothes were dirty, and she’d lost her underwear. Even if she did agree to travel with Trace, she wasn’t going on a trip without underwear.
A used sweater and jeans, and new underwear still with tags rested on the counter. This wasn’t Trace. She loved her brother, but considering another’s needs wasn’t one of his strong points. Who snuck in here during her shower and left clothes? Lexan? Her bio-dad? Although thankful, a wave of fury swept through her. All she’d wanted was a few minutes of privacy. A few fricking minutes alone. Yet, she’d been visited by more than one male while in the shower.
The used jeans and sweater were years out of style and hung off her body like she’d run through Goodwill, selecting the first oversized items in reach. To keep the high-waisted flare-bottom jeans from slipping, she rolled them down once at the top. She brushed her hair and exited.
Blay pushed from his wall lean to a stand, tense and imposing.
Great. A father confrontation to top the night off. This sucked. “Where’s Trace?”
“I asked him to be busy for a few minutes. He’s hellbent on talking you into leaving. Trace wants to get you on a flight to Europe or Africa or anywhere far away from us and Dominic. You can’t go. It’s not safe. You need to stay with us.”
Blay didn’t know about Carol’s predicament. She crossed her arms. “You used some sort of mental trick on Trace?”
He didn’t offer an apology. “How did it go? The shift?”
“Really? You want a play-by-play.” She glared.
