Page 27 of Blood & Bedlam

“I’ve got you—shh.” Vlad’s words rumble through his chest, soothing against my mind, but I can’t stay the wave that’s welled up around me. He doesn’t try to stop the onslaught, and I couldn’t if I tried. His big body towers over mine while I melt against him, and when he scoops me up and sits, with me against his chest, I turn off my mind and just feel.

“How?” I croak. Vlad’s fingers massage against my scalp. His entire body shakes with his head, or maybe it’s me that’s shaking. I can’t quite tell anymore.

“I don’t know yet, but we’re going to figure it out. I’ve called for someone who can help us. I won’t let anything happen to you, not again,” he vows, and the conviction in his voice is nearly a growl. There’s a desperation laced in his words that makes me feel like he’s not talking about what happened at the ball, that there’s something deeper driving his will.

In a stranger’s arms on a hardwood floor, I feel a lifetime of comfort in a memory I’ve never known.

Vladimir

CHAPTER 13

“Sunlight?” Reine inquires, fingers tapping against her lip as she continues her extensive list of questioning.

“Deadly, for anyone other than me.”

“Garlic?”

“Delicious.” I lick my lips, and she traces the movement. A small blush creeps over her chest and up her neck when she catches my eye—we both know she was staring. Reine sits in my wing-backed chair, a glass of whiskey in her hands, interrogating me for the last hour. It’s been only a day since her tears nearly broke me, and though I don’t have the answers we both need right now, I’m grateful that she’s caught her breath enough to dig into our kind. A smarter move would be to keep her out of the Otherworld as much as possible, but there’s color back in her cheeks, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“You’re surprisingly warm for a vampire,” she notes. I scrunch up my nose at her pronunciation.

“Vampyr. We aren’t like the others of our kind, remember?” I remind. She’s quiet for a moment as she considers something. Swirls her drink around thoughtfully.

“He wasn’t warm,” Reine says, low and quiet. I have to suppress the urge to growl my anger at her mentioning the fucker who hurt her.

“He’s not like us. The process of turning is different. Our blood is different,” I grit, working to steady my emotions. Reine’s fingers draw nervous patterns over the expanse of her thighs curled beneath her.

“Because you’re made from magic and they’re made from a curse?”

I dip my chin and take a sip of my own blood-laced whiskey.

“Essentially. We taste and drink, but we don’t need food to survive—just the blood. Vampires can only imbibe blood—they’re unable to stomach anything else. Our bodies, however, can bleed, eat, fuck …” My throat works around the word as her chin lifts up. “But we are harder to kill than they are. Decapitation, sunlight, destruction of a heart will do it for them. Sunlight hurts the girls and their mates, but it takes longer for them to burn. They become more resistant every year that passes,” I explain hastily, doing all I can to not think about the way her heart raced over the word fuck.

“Mates are like their partners?” she asks, cocking her head curiously. Dark waves fall around her shoulders, shining in the low light from the sconces. I take another drink as alarms fire in my mind. This is dangerous territory.

“Mhmm. It’s more … intimate than that, but yes, they are bound together for their immortal lives.” I see the gears turning in her mind, and I pray to the Fates she doesn’t keep digging. I don’t want to lie to her outright, and I’ve convinced myself that protecting her by omission isn’t betrayal.

“You said you can feel what I feel because you drank my blood?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Mhmm.”

Reine’s eyes are on our portrait and whatever she’s thinking has her biting her bottom lip, lost in thought. I’m wound up tight watching her, so I try to take a deep breath, only to realize what a colossal mistake that is. Her scent fills my nostrils, her blood calling to me in the short distance has my teeth lengthening, my mouth fucking watering as my vision darkens.

Just one taste …

“Vlad?”

Her eyes are pale, flashing like diamonds in the sky. Her breath catches as they grow wider, a little glassy with lust. It’s not her fault that she’s getting turned on, and I remind myself that it’s her natural response to me, to what I need. She’s utter perfection, her skin so soft. Gods and Fates, just one taste …

The glass in my hand cracks in my grip, startling us both. Liquid sloshes down my lap, soaking my pants. Reine’s up in an instant, dabbing at my wet crotch with the end of her dress, and fucking Hells of the Underworld, the friction causes my cock to respond to her, swelling instantly under her palm. She kneels between my legs, that dress doing obscene things to me while she works to clean up the mess.

“It’s fine, Reine,” I grit, her name a plea on my lips because if she keeps touching me, I’m going to lose control and do something neither of us is ready for. She’s flustered, mumbling as she presses against me, and I can’t help the groan that rips from my lips.

“Oh. Oh.” Her lips form the words, voice breathy and heavy with lust, but she doesn’t move back. She lets the fabric fall away, leaving only the heat of her palm against me. The need in my chest rips out on a dangerous growl.

“Reine, please,” I beg, dropping my head back on a prayer. I remind myself that I’m eight hundred years old—surely, I have more control than this. Her fingers wrap around me in a deliberate grip, pleasure blooming as I throb against her hand, curling my toes. “Fuck,” I whisper. My chin drops to my chest as I take her in, so beautiful as she moves, enthralled as she commands my pleasure.