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“Barely. Why, is he a snob about shit like that?” Did I just break another vampire rule I didn’t know about? Cat would have mentioned if I couldn’t talk to other vampires, right? She told me not to touch them.
Anna doesn’t answer. I don’t even know if she heard me. “And he threatened you?”
Uh… no? “He called me a grotty bird and said he’d see me soon. I don’t think that counts as a threat.”
The door to the corridor opens, and we jerk around to watch as Tristan stalks into the room, followed closely by Pierce. Tristan’s gaze locks onto me and, proving that vampire hearing is epic, says, “It definitely counts as a threat.”
Chapter 16
Anna stands, and I also get to my feet, not wanting to face an angry vampire sitting down. Not that it would make much difference, given what I just saw. If Tristan can throw around another vampire like that, I’m not going to stand a chance.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I declare, deciding that offence is the best defence. “Nobody said I wasn’t allowed to exist in this house.”
His nostrils flare in a way I recognise. Lots of people have looked at me that way before, usually when they were on the verge of losing their shit.
“Were you, or were you not, present earlier when I said I didn’t want Misha to see you?”
Oh. That. Oops. I open my mouth, but he holds up his hand.
“Regardless of what you might think—if you think at all—I don’t imagine myself in the role of a despot, giving orders simply for the sake of it. If I tell you to remain unseen, there is a reason, and I expect you to listen.” His voice doesn’t rise, not even a tiny bit, but it slices like a knife.
“He wouldn’t have seen me if you hadn’t thrown the other guy”—I cast around for his name—“Geoffrey, through the door!”
Clive gasps, like I’ve said something that crosses a line, but it’s true. I’ve never let any of my bosses talk to me like I’m an idiot, and I’m not going to start now.
“Oh? I find that hard to believe, since we eventually would have left that room anyway, and you were loitering in the hallway.”
“I was mostly hidden by the wall!”
“You shouldn’t have been there at all.”
I roll my eyes, pretty confident now that he’s not going to physically harm me. “Look, I know I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, and I’m sorry about that. I got curious when I heard the yelling, because you do not seem like a guy who yells in meetings. But let’s not blow it out of proportion.”
Anna flinches.
“Out of proportion?” Tristan repeats, his eyes narrowing.
“Yeah. No real harm was done. You had Geoffrey in a tight grip, and Misha seemed to be more about nasty words than anything else, so…” I shrug, then immediately rethink my whole life when Pierce buries his face in his hands.
Tristan’s gimlet gaze bores into me. “If you cannot be trusted to consider your own safety, I will have you locked up when necessary. Don’t disobey me again. Is that understood?”
The words bring the memory of Geoffrey being choked flooding into my mind’s eye, and I nod. “Now that I know how important it is to you, I’ll make sure I stay out of sight when you tell me to.” My phone vibrates in my pocket, but even though I could desperately use Cat’s insight on this situation, it doesn’t seem like the right time to check it.
Tristan looks like he wants to say more, but after a long moment, he turns away, telling Clive, “Some repairs are needed. Please organise it immediately.”
Clive’s jaw drops open. “You’re letting him stay?”
What the fuck? Why does he sound pissed about that? I glare at him.
Tristan raises a brow, and Clive’s cheeks flush. “I’ll arrange for the workmen to come today,” he mumbles, and then Tristan’s sweeping out of the room, Pierce on his heels. Anna drops back to sitting on the coffee table, exhaling loudly, but I’m not done with Clive.
“Mate, you got a problem with me? Because we don’t have to be besties, but I’m not okay with you telling the boss he should sack me.”
Clive whirls on me. “Of course I have a problem with you!” he shouts, eyes blazing, and I take a step back. “You have no respect for Tristan or the position you hold! You’ve been here less than one full day, and all you’ve done is cause trouble.”
“Fuck you, I have not!” Although… “Not deliberately,” I add. He’s kind of right, what with not eating yesterday and today’s debacle. Has it really only been less than a day?
He scoffs and turns his back on me. “It’s always ‘not deliberately’ with people like you. You hurtle through life like a wrecking ball, causing destruction everywhere you go, and people let you get away with it because you’re you.”
