Page 11 of The Night Runs Red

There would be no more sleep for me tonight.

I turned off the water and grabbed a towel. It smelled like Rion—sensual, old, and expensive—like a rare book. Of course, I couldn’t escape him even for a moment. Not even in what was supposed to be my own space.

Why was I so bothered by someone who wanted nothing to do with me? Our situation could’ve been worse. He could have decided to imprison me, keeping me entirely isolated. Instead, Rion honestly didn’t seem to care what I did with my free time if I kept it private.

That should be a good thing.

Right?

“I have no plans to stay abstinent.” That’s what he’d said, verbatim. So, why was the thought of him doing just that causing my skin to crawl?

Instead of moving back toward my bed, I reached the door and placed my ear against the wood. Silence. The clock on my nightstand read just past three in the morning. It wouldn’t be long until that peace was replaced with a household rife with discontent at my arrival.

But if I went out now, got a snack and some coffee, I could hide here a little longer. Maybe they would forget about me entirely.

I grabbed my robe and stepped outside, looking down the halls to ensure there wasn’t anyone lurking in the darkness. I wouldn’t put it past Rion to station guards outside my door. Vampyres had the ability to conceal themselves in the shadows, ensuring prying eyes went unseeing. As they hunted, they could stalk their prey without detection,

Wandering downstairs, I trailed my finger along the thick wooden banister as I went. The space was illuminated by sconces that looked like they didn’t belong in this century, but somehow, they matched the room perfectly. Their dim light was just enough to guide me to the first floor.

Shit. I had no idea where the kitchen was, and I’d been too wrapped up in Rion’s suffocating presence to ask. But how hard could it be to find? The dining room we’d been in only hours ago sat empty, and I vaguely remembered a set of doors where the servers had gone in and out. Surely that would lead me somewhere.

Before I could walk toward them, soft footsteps sounded from up ahead. I fixed my gaze on the darkening hallway, knowing I’d likely be met with more questions than answers.

“Hello?” I called, tightening my hand into a fist at my side.

“Can’t sleep?” a deep voice called before stepping out of the shadows into the dim foyer. Jasper stood before me, hair mussed and bare-chested in soft linen sleep pants. A single snake tattoo ran across his chest and down his left arm.

Holy gods.

I shifted on my feet, trying desperately not to stare at the carved lines of muscle disappearing below his pajamas. Stop. Stop. Stop. “Yeah, I always have trouble in a new place. I was on the hunt to find the kitchen, but—”

“But you have no idea where you’re going?”

I chuckled. “I might be a bit lost, yeah.”

His amber eyes glittered, especially as he pulled a cookie from behind his back and took a bite. “Lucky for you, I was just on a similar endeavor. Want me to show you where all the best treats are hidden?”

I nodded, moving toward him. “You keep them hidden?”

“Rion has a sweet tooth, believe it or not. It is something he has developed.”

“Developed?” I asked, wondering what would make such a dour vampyre crave something so seemingly normal.

Jasper winced slightly. “To curb his…other cravings.”

Right. Because he was a vampyre, and the one thing he truly craved was blood.

“Ah,” I said, keeping my head down. I focused on the feeling of the cold floor beneath my feet, but nothing took away the image conjuring in my mind of Rion lengthening his fangs and—

“I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?” Jasper asked as we rounded the corner, stepping into the spacious kitchen area.

Dark jade cabinets were paired with gold accents, the counters a black so glossy I could nearly see my reflection. There was a lighter honeycomb backsplash along the wall below the cabinets.

“Calia?” Jasper prompted when I said nothing. He opened the large fridge and pulled out a gallon of milk, which he poured into a saucepan to heat.

I tucked my hair behind my ear and seated myself on a velvet stool. “Uh, no. Not at all. I’m just not used to the…blood talk. I guess it’ll take some getting used to.” Which was putting it mildly, at best. Even when vampyres and their feeding habits were discussed as I was growing up, it was always seen as an evil act—that they were attempting to drain away the life and power of everyone around them.

Jasper turned his back to me before reaching for a mug and pouring the heated liquid. “Do you like chocolate?”

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