Page 46 of Entombed By Blood
He doesn’t respond—and likely can’t without Evie hearing him—so I give him a few seconds before I ease open another vent and crawl out into the roof garden.
From the floor plans Finn gave me, I know that this small oasis covers two levels. The lift entrance and an intimate dining area take up the entirety of the top floor and there's a small exercise pool on the level below.
Thankfully, they're not up here. Even crouched as I am, the open plan space leaves nowhere for me to hide. They must be by the pool. Taking a deep breath, I creep over to the tall concrete planters that divide the two levels and peer over the top of the soft grasses.
Vane is reclining on a lounger that’s too small for him with his back to me. He's close enough that I know he's scented me, but his attention is fixed on a spot beyond the pool.
I follow his gaze and my mouth falls open as I take in the slender woman balancing on the rail at the edge of the roof.
In two hundred years, she hasn't changed. Dark hair and alabaster skin conspire together with the moonlight, making her look like a fallen angel. Despite the dress she’s wearing, every inch of her is unmistakably a warrior; from the proud set of her nose to the slightly arrogant cast of her brows.
But she's not the same. There's an awkwardness to her movements that wasn't there before, like she's relearning how to exist in open space. Her balance is perfect, yet she lacks the ease with which she used to hold herself.
When she turns and looks back at Vane, I only just manage to duck in time. If I had a heartbeat, it would be pounding in my chest. Pressed against the planter, I bite my lip as I absorb the sound of her voice.
“Do you know why I was released? The real reason?”
Fuck, I’ve missed her.
Fire pricks at the inside corners of my eyes, but I pretend not to notice it. Instead, I focus on the thrall bond in my chest. I've felt so hollow without it, and—even though this new one is still in its infancy—having it back feels like I’ve woken up from a long ass nightmare.
I can only hope that one day, Eve lets me close enough to restore it to how it was before. Better, even, now that we’re both immortal. The pack wasn’t sure that the bond would take—given that no sane person had tried to bond a ghoul before—but I’m fucking glad it did.
Before, the tether between us was a lifeline that let me know she was safe, and sometimes, I could even catch a whisper of her feelings if they were intense enough. I miss that. So damned much.
“I do.” Vane's evasive reply brings unwanted jealousy.
What I wouldn't give to be the one talking to her right now. To have the chance to explain. To grovel. Fall at her feet. I’m not too proud to beg.
But Gideon’s right. She’s not ready for that yet, or ready for me. Her voice, once bold and confident, is soft, almost mournful. There's a hesitancy there that wasn’t part of the Eve I used to know.
My own selfish desires will have to wait. She will learn about what really happened soon enough, anyway. I just have to pray she'll listen when I get the chance to speak.
“You won't tell me,” she guesses. “So either you’ve been ordered not to, or you think I’m incapable of handling it.”
I smile at the touch of steel in those last few words. If there’s one thing Eve has always despised, it’s other people making decisions for her.
“Orders,” Vane mutters.
“So it’s something that will take me off guard,” Eve mumbles, quiet enough that I’m not certain either of us were meant to catch it.
Vane doesn’t answer, and I dare a second peek over the top of the plants. Eve’s attention has returned to the glimmering lights of Manhattan. She's standing on one leg, a single foot hovering over the edge.
My gut twists, yet Vane does nothing. His muscles are tense beneath the shirt he’s wearing, but he makes no move to stop her.
What is he playing at? I shift, ready to take matters into my own hands, but Eve replaces her foot before I can reveal myself.
“I need to interact with this new world if I’m to become accustomed to it,” she says, biting at her lip.
I’m forced to duck again as she turns back to regard Vane once more.
“Am I still restricted to the apartment?”
“For now.”
I can tell how much Eve hates that by her long, drawn-out sigh. “As my sire wishes.”
“A rogue vampire in his city is bad publicity,” Vane explains.
