Page 74
Taking a deep breath, I put my hands on my hips. “I do. I did.” There was no easy way to tell her.
“I was married, while I was still human,” I started. “She was a blonde. A beautiful woman with exceptionally long blonde hair very much like yours. It was an arranged marriage, as was customary for those times and in accordance with my family’s status, but I did come to care for her.”
Brittney was listening intently, waiting for me to continue while I fought against the frenetic beat of my heart.
“The vampire who turned me had been a guest at a gathering my parents held, and he specifically came to slaughter me, my parents, and my wife. It seemed like a curse at the time, but thankfully my wife was barren, so no children were involved. I managed to kill the vampire but not before he murdered my whole family.”
Her face was so pale, it was almost gray. “Holy fuck,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“Not only do I have a thing for blondes, but it also stands to remind me of what I have to lose. Hence, I’ve collected blonde strands of hair here and there over the years.”
Her throat bobbed, and she peered around the room, not focusing on anything. She seemed to be searching for something to say. Finally, she met my eyes. “That is the saddest thing I ever heard. I mean, I get it, the collecting blonde hairs. But holy shit he killed your whole family? I’m glad you killed him.”
Brittney stepped closer to me and put her arms around my waist. I nuzzled the top of her head, luxuriating in her scent. I wasn’t sure what kind of response I’d expected from her; I knew many of my behaviors weren’t considered normal. It’d been hundreds of years, but I still recalled what it was like to be human.
Her jaw moved against my chest when she asked, “How old were you?”
“Thirty-seven.”
“Oh look, I snagged myself an older man.” Her laughter shook her whole body before she let out a sigh.
“In more ways than one,” I agreed with a chuckle.
There was still something important I had to mention. “You are not to repeat anything I just told you.”
The crows started cawing and flapping their wings. We both glanced at them before Brittney said, “Who would I tell? There’s no one to tell. But yeah, I won’t.”
“Eventually, you’ll meet my friends. They have girlfriends and wives, and I don’t want my business being discussed.”
She was caught between excitement over the prospect of meeting my associates and her worry over the very obvious disturbance of the birds. “I want to meet these friends of yours,” she said, dropping her arms and taking a step back.
She peered over her shoulder. “They’re close. The Kakians are real close, aren’t they?”
“Yes.” Swiping a dagger from a shelf, I turned to face her again. “Computer room. Come.”
Brittney knew where the room was, so I went ahead, switching my focus back and forth. I was listening to her as she walked behind me while watching for any foreign sounds that might let me know something had penetrated the wards I’d placed around my home.
Kakians weren’t much of a concern for me. While the demon race was renowned for its skill in the art of assassination, they were easily disposed of when you knew what you were doing. The only thing I was slightly worried about, was if they got to Brittney. The demon races’ strongest power was that of sucking one's soul out of their body. If that happened, even I couldn’t do a thing about it. She would be gone.
Waving my hand across the bank of monitors, they flickered to life, with live surveillance images displaying the desert, forest, cities, and private properties.
“Whoa,” Brittney murmured, taking my hand, “this is cool. Almost as cool as a crystal ball.”
Her grip tightened when her eyes rested on a screen showing a duo of sharply dressed demons with swords slung across their backs. “That’s them, it must be,” she said. “Who goes into the woods dressed like that?”
“Kakians.”
“So weird. It looks uncomfortable.” She furrowed her brow and glanced at me pointedly.
“Appearance is everything. It garners trust and signifies position. How you dress sends a message. Plus, the material is of the finest quality and moves precisely how one needs it to,” I said, sending back the same look.
Brittney rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You know you look good. And I like my leggings so I’m going to wear them when I want.”
Irritation prickled up my spine. Now wasn’t the time for this conversation. “I’ll change your clothing for you, when the occasion calls for it. Don’t take my leniency for a lack of care.”
A strange expression rolled across her face, and her pupils dilated as she let out a small breath. She wanted to fight me, but at the same time, the idea of me forcing her to do something turned her on. And I would put whatever clothing on her that I wanted her to wear—just like I’d tie her to a shelf again and play with her if I felt like it.
“You can’t make me do anything,” she retorted. Her palm dampened against mine as she kept a close eye on the bank of screens. The demons had picked up speed.
