Page 23 of His Eternal Temptation

Rowan had been doing his best to ignore Lane’s presence altogether, worried about protecting his own secrets and nothing else. He hadn’t spared a thought for how being dragged through his life might affect Lane, and yet he’d promised to take care of him. Rowan had failed, and it was unacceptable. This wasn’t how he treated people trapped in situations they hadn’t asked for, and he believed Lane hadn’t asked for this, no matter what lies he told Hunter about the past.

Failure. Worthless. The words echoed in Cris’s voice. Rowan hadn’t imagined his sire’s rebukes in decades, but he deserved the punishment. He felt wretched, the scent of blood lingering in the stairwell like a reminder of his weakness in the face of his urges. His inadequacy.

He sniffed subtly at the scent of blood in the air, and his fangs itched. How odd. He was…thirsty. Drinking blood wasn’t a daily requirement, and at his age, Rowan’s thirst was well under control. Even young vampires like Hunter could reliably master the urge to feed unnecessarily in the presence of blood. So why were Rowan’s fangs aching to drop? He shouldn’t need to feed for a few days at least.

Maybe it was the feral blood. He’d have to ask if Felix noticed.

On the fourth floor, Lane asked to go to the bathroom, so Rowan brought him to his room. He couldn’t ignore a sinking feeling that he might as well stay here for the rest of the day. It would save the back and forth, and he clearly needed to think harder about where he brought Lane, but being idle wasn’t Rowan’s nature. He should be on his way to the Arts District. The feral vampire problem couldn’t wait until after the curse had been lifted.

He texted Emile, his head enforcer, and requested he meet with Felix and investigate as soon as possible. Emile’s affirmative reply was instant. Rowan should feel grateful he was surrounded by people he could trust, rather than guilty he wasn’t solving this problem himself.

Yet another disappointment, his sire’s phantom voice said. Why am I not surprised?

Rowan shook off the familiar criticism. The water in the bathroom turned on, and a text arrived from Cecile, asking what he wanted to do about a meeting scheduled for that night. It had slipped Rowan’s mind, which wasn’t like him at all. He was thankful Cecile hadn’t witnessed his flinch upon receiving the reminder.

He replied, asking her to take the meeting in his place. It wasn’t something Lane could tag along to, and canceling didn’t bode well. Cecile readily agreed, and Rowan tried to feel good about that.

His guilt grew, and once he texted Felix to ask if he felt unusually thirsty, there was nothing left to do.

Rowan ran his tongue over his aching fangs. Not surprisingly, the smell of blood hadn’t carried this far, since the body hadn’t been brought through his room. The dead vampire would be kept on the fifth floor until he could be identified and put to rest. Rowan’s reaction should have faded.

His phone vibrated.

Felix:

I don’t feel anything.

Unease twisted Rowan’s gut. Was it the curse?

SEVEN

LANE

After showering as an excuse to hide in the bathroom, Lane made himself face Rowan.

He wasn’t ashamed of his reaction downstairs. There wasn’t anything manly in suppressing emotion or pretending he was a hardass in the face of violence. But this was another in a long line of vulnerabilities he’d rather not have shared. If only he could stop feeling so wrong-footed around Rowan.

Lane left the bathroom and found him leaning casually against the wall.

He glanced up from his phone. “How do you feel?”

Lane might have read into the careful lack of judgment in Rowan’s tone if he didn’t always sound so unaffected.

“Better… Shaken,” Lane amended in the spirit of not hiding feelings in order to seem macho. Was that why Rowan kept himself locked down? Lane hoped not.

“That’s understandable.” Rowan tucked his phone into his pocket and pushed off the wall. “I’m sorry for putting you in that situation. I should have remembered you haven’t been exposed to centuries of violence.”

“Centuries? I mean—thanks. I suppose it gets easier if you see it all the time.”

“Not in a good way.” Rowan turned as serious as stone. “It’s probably wrong to be unaffected. What, if not apathy, leads vampires to set ferals on killing sprees?”

“I won’t argue with you there. So… These are intended killing sprees, not accidents?”

“It seems so. Why else would the culprit convince their creations I’ve sired them?”

True. Lane didn’t see how a mistaken sire could be accidental. “I didn’t think it was possible to fool a vampire about who sired them.” Wouldn’t they remember who turned them? Vampire hypnosis didn’t work on other vampires, only humans and witches, so it wasn’t like they could fall victim to false memories once they turned.

Rowan hesitated so long it seemed he wouldn’t answer. Unsurprising, since vampires were tight-lipped on the subject of siring more of their kind. Lane wouldn’t have gone near the subject if the feral vampire hadn’t come up. It wasn’t as if he were interested in becoming an immortal.