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I rise, slamming my drink down on the small side table, and cross my arms. Landon’s eyes move back to me, his frown still in place as he crosses the shop. Emotions, like desire and need and anger and hurt, all whirl around in me and I know if I let him get too close, I’ll melt into him and let it go. Unlike all the other men I’ve had in my bed, this one—this vampire, is the most dangerous. Not because of his unnatural strength or his ability to bleed me dry.
It’s because I’m already falling hard for him. He’s gotten past my defenses, making me feel cherished and protected and cared about. Now I’m remembering why I have those defenses, because my heart is beginning to crack and I hate that I want him to put it back together. That self-loathing erupts from me when he’s a few steps away.
“Do I have a sign around my neck that says, “Fuck for access to Oberon Benoit” or something?” The vitriol in my voice makes Landon stop short, his brows snapping together. Then the expression is gone, his face going blank again as he closes the distance between us and grips my upper arm with an iron hand.
“Let go of me.” I yank at him, but it’s useless. I look around, desperate to see if anyone will help, but all the people who’d been watching me before now seem to find their drinks fascinating. Eris and Darcelle are the only ones who look at me, the former with a smug expression and the latter with sympathy as Landon starts to march me out of the place.
Another vampire, one with sandy brown hair and an almost kind-looking face, waits beside a black Mercedes GLE Coup SUV, in a tailored black suit. One look in his golden eyes, though, and I know he won’t help me. Especially not when he opens the back door for Landon, who proceeds to force me into the vehicle.
“Eris was with her.” Landon practically spits out the demon’s name, and the other vampire looks back towards the coffee shop. I peer through the car door and around Landon’s bulk, I see her leaning in the doorway. She isn’t watching me. Her eyes are on the other vampire. He must be Ashe, the one Darcelle is convinced Eris has feelings for.
“I’ll deal with her,” Ashe says, his tone resolute. He strides towards the door and she pushes off, straightening, and I’m worried I’m about to see a fight go down but then the car door slams in my face. Landon moves into the driver’s seat, taking off fast enough that I rock back into the seat and hurry to get my seatbelt on.
“Are you always a fucking asshole?” I grumble, too pissed and hurt to care about the answer. My throat burns as I stare at the passing buildings, but I don’t want to let myself cry. I’d called him because I felt safe with him and it turns out he’s just like every other man who convinced me they cared. “I want to go home.”
“No.”
“Dammit, Landon,” I shriek, turning to face him and hit the back of the driver’s seat. “What the hell did I do to deserve this? I let you in. I shared things I’ve never shared with anyone, and you’ve just been using me this whole time! Do you even plan to sell the helm to my father or was that a lie too?”
The truth of knowing so little about Landon slams into my chest and I crumple against the back seat as he remains silent. He drives fast, speeding through the early evening traffic with absolute control. He warned me that night that I was better off telling him to leave and never speak to me again. I should have listened.
It’s not until he’s pulling into an underground parking garage that I realize I’ve left my handbag back at the coffee shop. I groan and rub my face. How much worse can this day get? He parks and kills the engine, getting out and opening my door before I can even unbuckle.
“Come on.”
He’s gripping the top of the door, and the look in his eyes has any argument dying on my tongue. Wariness that should have saved me the first night I met him is finally taking control and I ease out of the car, keeping my eyes low and submissive. Other than his eyes, no emotion is coming from him and that’s more terrifying than if he were stomping and slamming doors. Instead, he’s completely disconnected, as if everything that we shared meant nothing.
The splinters in my heart get longer and I hug myself.
“I left my bag at the—”
“Ashe will retrieve it,” he interrupts me. The moment I’m clear of the door, he closes it and then his hand clasps mine. “This way.”
Startled, I stare at where his fingers are laced between mine, his grip strong but not painful, as I hurry to match his stride. He takes me through a door that leads into an open space of pale hardwood floors and cream-colored walls. It almost reminds me of my father’s condo, but there are colorful geometric rugs on the floor and landscape art covering the walls, transforming the place into a home as opposed to a showroom.
“Is this where you live?” I try to take everything in as he pulls me into another room, the architecture ignoring halls in favor of connecting rooms directly together. We pass through a room overflowing with houseplants; no matter how hard I try, I can’t picture Landon taking the time to water them.
“This is the clan house,” he answers, his gait finally slowing as we cross into another room. This one is filled with built-in shelves and has a stairway along one side, and it’s clear he intends us to go up. A door closes above, and two feminine voices reach me, making my doubt from earlier with Eris rear its head again. Why should it matter if I’m Landon’s only lover or not? Not when he’s only been using me this entire time.
Landon stills too, and finally a crack in his void-like demeanor appears. I glance at him, worry nagging at the back of my neck. He seems nervous, his jaw clenching. I look up to the top of the stairs where the two women come into view.
“Oh.”
My eyes widen on the surprised older woman, who is looking down at him with wide golden eyes. Even if Landon hadn’t told me that his mother was also a vampire, there would be no doubt who she is. She’s wearing a gray, long-sleeve dress, in a modest cut, but it does nothing to diminish the elegance she holds herself with. Her graying hair is pulled back in a neat twist, and while her face is rounder than Landon’s—their eyes, noses, and lips are the same.
“Forgive my rudeness,” she says after a heartbeat, her accent vaguely French, and she walks down the stairs. “I was not aware we were expecting a guest. My name is Joséphine.”
We both take a step back as she reaches the landing, and her eyes go to where Landon’s hand holds mine. I hold out my left hand, cheeks burning, but determined to be polite. I’m in her house, even if unwillingly. “My name is Wren. It’s lovely to meet you.”
Her golden eyes light up with joy, and the smile she gives me is sincere enough it almost makes the heartbreak worth it to meet her. Joséphine has the air of a mother, and I have the biggest urge to let her wrap her arms around me and tell me everything will be just fine. How is it that a woman so purely welcoming and good has a son like the one I’m discovering Lan really is?
The other woman, clearly younger than me, clears her throat and holds out her hand, grinning. Her eyes are totally normal, not a speck of gold in sight in the dark brown. Her hair is up in a messy bun, and she’s the first person I’ve seen to be wearing anything less than runway-ready clothing. Instead of a chic outfit, she’s wearing an overly large sweater that says ‘Eat A Bag of Dicks’ in pretty cursive and surrounded by flowers, tiny shorts printed with toads, and fuzzy pink and purple donut socks pulled up to her knees.
“I’m Eloise,” she says with a grin. “And I need to know everything.”
Lan snorts and I glare at him, finally tugging my hand out of his. To my surprise, he lets me go. Putting my hands on my hips, I stare at him while I answer her.
“Oh, nothing much. Just a bit of light kidnapping, after seduction with the intent to gain access to my tech billionaire father.”
