Vincent knelt on the ground beside me. He had one hand on my knee while the other stroked my hair. The gentle show of affection was an odd contrast to the dark scowl he wore. My legs went weak beneath his touch, and my head swirled with fresh images of the dream as I tried to parse the nightmares from the fragments I wanted to keep.
“V–Vincent?”
His lips twitched with the ghost of a smile. “Ruby.”
I felt my cheeks flame as his eyes dropped to my lips which had probably been screaming his name in my sleep just seconds ago.
“Having sweet dreams?” he asked on a purr of a chuckle.
“No.” I wrapped the blanket tight around my shoulders. “You were in them.”
His eyes gleamed as he licked his bottom lip. “Ah. Sweet nightmares then.”
“Something like that…” My attention dropped to his throat, where gruesome burns mangled his otherwise perfect skin from the iron chains. Without thinking, I reached to touch one of the ruined raven tattoos. “You’re hurt.”
I couldn’t mask the emotion in my tone, and for once, I didn’t care to. He caught my hand and held it to his bare pectoral. “I’m alright, Princess.”
“What about me?” Eros’ voice sounded from behind Vincent and was as rough as sandpaper. “Just because you’re in there all cozy in your cage together doesn’t mean you get to pretend I’m not here.”
Vincent’s eyes narrowed as they remained on me, thin lips twisting into a malicious smile. His gaze grew stormy, and his face became all hard edges once he addressed his brother. “She knows you’re here, asshole.”
I peeked past Vin to see Eros slouched against the concrete wall of the cell beside ours, thick steel bars separating us. It looked like Erik had taken Sharpe’s suggestion of throwing Vincent and me in one cell, hoping he’d mark me.
Much of Eros’ body was on display, with only his gym shorts covering his toned physique. His black blood crusted his chest, patches of his reaper tattoo and the ripple of his rough-hewn brawn visible through the grime. Even in the wake of the painful regeneration process, the coven’s roguish torture master wore dried blood just as well as any dapper businessman wore Armani. He held a cigarette pinched between his fingers, and brought the butt to his lips for a long drag.
My heart pulsated as I watched the cherry-red tip sizzle, my mate’s eyes dancing with the reflection of the red-hot embers.
Seeing my attention fixed on the vampire in the next cell, Vincent twisted to look at him. “Where the hell were you keeping cigarettes and a lighter? You’ve had those the entire time?”
A sardonic sneer pursed around Eros’ cigarette. “I see. You’re the one hulking out like a fucking troll on steroids, butI’mthe one who gets the third degree. Fucking typical.”
“Wait.” I blinked rapidly. “You mean you didn’t know what he was? How is that possible if you killed his father for being fae?”
“I knew he was a dark fae. But when he was turned, he lost all his ability to shift except for his weaker, familiar form. He shouldn’t possess that kind of power he displayed at The Warehouse. Not anymore.”
The atmosphere grew taut around Vincent. “I’m working on my control.”
Eros’ upper lip peeled back, exposing his dropped fangs. “Well, work harder at it, you monstrous fuck—” The vampire winced, his outburst cut short as he held his side. “Damn, that hurts. Couldn’t have pulled your punches just a little?”
Not wanting them to get into another fight, I rose from the coffin and strode to the bars, gripping them as I looked in on Eros. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit. But that just means I’m still alive. Well, at least as far as being a vampire goes.” He took another puff of his cigarette before snuffing it out on the concrete, then struggled to his feet.
“Don’t push yourself. You’re still healing.”
He waved me off with a flap of his hand. “Nothing can keep me from you, doll. Especially not a few busted ribs that will mend by morning.”
He hobbled to where I stood and stroked the knuckles of my hand with the pad of his thumb. He leaned his cheek against the steel bar while grinning at me. “That’s enough about me. How are you feeling?”
“Peachy.” I winced, rubbing at the back of my skull where a lump had formed. “How long have I been out?”
“Couple of hours,” Vincent answered.
I shivered, pulling my blanket tighter around my shoulders. It was freezing in here. By my guess, we were underground. “Where are we, exactly?”
“The basement floor of the Boston Coven’s skyscraper,” Eros grunted in response, his mouth so close to mine his breath fanned my lips. The potent taste of smoke and cloves clung to my taste buds, making my thighs clench.
I frowned at him. “They own a skyscraper?”