Page 73 of Bite
“He started it,” he grumbles.
I push off the bench and follow the trail of black fur and wounded pride out of the room, calling Ozzy’s name.
Behind me, the piano starts up again, each note spilling from the room and echoing through the cavernous hallway. The music drifts after me, soft but insistent, weaving around my steps as I make my way toward the staircase.
I pause at the base, letting the sound wash over me, feeling the faint pull of something still unspoken between us. This house has started to feel smaller lately– not in size, but in how tightly it holds him.
And now me.
I draw a slow breath, letting the melody cling to my skin, and for a brief moment, I let myself wonder if any part of this– him, the music, the impossible intimacy– could ever be mine to keep.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
The next few days pass in a kind of suspended animation, the hours bleeding together until I can’t tell one night from the next. James keeps his usual routine– dead to the world by day, awake and all-consuming when the sun dips– and I’ve started to follow his rhythm without even meaning to. Our nightly pattern of feedings and sex leaves me so wrung out that I wind up sleeping all day just to recover, rising when he does to repeat the cycle.
He never sleeps beside me, though, which definitely lends to my coffin theory.
Somewhere in the fog of pleasure, I find a hazy contentment. The bites don’t scare me anymore. They’re basically vampire foreplay, and the sex is well worth the price of admission. I swear every climax with James is better than the last, shattering me completely, then rearranging the pieces left behind. It’s a shame nothing good ever lasts in my life, because he’s officially ruined me for all other men.
Tonight, there’s a break in our routine. I’m accompanying James to a formal gathering for the vampire high council and monarchs of the North American regions, which I can only hope isn’t half as terrifying as it sounds.
A few hours before sunset, a gown arrives in a sleek black garment bag, followed by the reappearance of the glam squad. They quickly take over my bedroom once again, primping and plucking and molding me intoMarilyn.
After they leave, I stand in front of the mirror and admire my reflection for entirely too long. Silver chiffon clings to every curve of my body, catching the light in soft ripples when I move. My hair’s been curled and styled into an up-do that looks effortless, though the effort was very,veryreal. My lips gleam a dangerous red, lashes so full and long that they could pass as extensions. I look ridiculously expensive; like someone who belongs on the arm of royalty.
I’m still trying to decide if that’s agoodthing when James appears in the doorway of my bedroom.
Our eyes meet in the mirror, and the world seems to tighten around the edges as he gives me a long, slow once-over.
“You look lovely,” he declares at last.
I blush instantly, wrapping my arms around my middle and glancing back at him over my shoulder. “Thanks. You don’t look half bad yourself.”
It’s the understatement of the century. He’s dressed in a midnight blue suit that fits him like a second skin, all sharp lines and impeccable tailoring. Cuff links gleam at his wrists, glinting in the light as he straightens his tie. The tie is silver– almost an exact match to the fabric of my dress– and while he’s always hauntingly beautiful, there’s something undeniably regal about the way he looks tonight.
“Shall we?” he asks, offering his arm.
I nod, then cross the room to him, heels clicking against the polished wood. The air seems to thrum between us as I slide my hand onto his forearm– solid muscle beneath immaculate fabric, cool to the touch even through the suit.
“Remind me what this is all about again?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
“It’s mostly political,” he mutters. “We’re required to attend these things quarterly to rub elbows and make nice with one another. We broker deals, pretend we aren’t plotting each other’s assassinations… all very civilized.”
A startled laugh escapes me before I can stop it, the sound echoing softly down the hall. I glance up to see the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.
Did he just make a joke?
“I somehow doubt it’s as boring as you’re making it sound,” I say, my grip on his arm tightening as he leads me from the bedroom and down the long hallway.
“Boring for me,” he murmurs. “Though I suppose a human may find it fascinating to stand among the most powerful vampires in the country. You mortals are always too curious for your own good.”
There’s a teasing note under the words, but it doesn’t quite disguise the warning.
At the top of the grand staircase, James halts so abruptly that it nearly knocks me off balance. He whirls to face me, one hand lifting to catch my chin between his fingers. The world narrows to the space between us– his touch, his predatory focus, the look in those icy blue eyes.
“Stay alert,” he growls. “And stay close. No harm will come to you so long as you’re by my side.”
