Sera relaxed against him, hands shaking on his shoulders, breath trembling across his chest.
When her bite had sent him careening towards passing out, he had feared that she had awakened his bloodlust, but he felt none of the effects. He felt hazy and warm, at peace and one with her. Sera. His seducer. His vixen. His goddess.
Her thoughts swam in his mind and he tried not to listen to them, but their subject and her emotions tugged at his heart. She feared. She was afraid that he would leave her someday, that she would lose the incredible man beneath her. He would have smiled at being called incredible had it not been for the fact that her fear was genuine, and ran deep in her heart. She feared he would be taken from her and that she wouldn’t be able to stop it from happening.
It wasn’t the bloodlust that she feared, but him leaving her for another woman—the woman he had almost forgotten. Sera had chased Anya from his mind and his heart, but now she had brought her back again, a ghost that haunted him and one he had thought he had freed himself from. He wanted to tell Sera that she had no reason to fear because he would never leave her but he had promised not to use the blood connection between them to pry. She would never forgive him if he revealed that he had listened in on her private thoughts.
Antoine needed to do something to reassure her though. The need was primal, controlling, a male desire to protect his female and ensure her happiness and comfort.
He growled and pulled at the cuffs that bound him, muscles rippling and body going rigid. Sera lifted her head, her green eyes wide, shock echoing in them. Not fear. She didn’t think he had lost his mind to bloodlust then. He silently thanked her for her faith in him and pulled his wrists towards him. The cuffs at the other end of the ones that held him began to bend. He tugged harder, straining and growling, and they crumpled under the pressure and slipped through the cuffs of the restraints attached to the bedposts.
The sudden release of pressure against his wrists was something he probably should have anticipated. His left fist smashed into the side of his face and the mangled cuff still attached to it flipped over his face and smacked him in the ear. His other fist cracked against it, driving the metal against his head.
Pain buzzed across his skull.
Antoine didn’t care.
He grabbed a startled Sera, wrapped his arms around her and dragged her down against him. He kissed her with every ounce of feeling that beat for her in his dark heart, hoping to show her without words that she had nothing to fear.
She melted into him, her palms against his chest, her kisses soft and light, full of need and affection.
Antoine held her closer, drawing her deeper into his embrace.
He would never leave her.
No one on this Earth could take him from her.
No one.
CHAPTER 13
Antoine was on edge. Sera was back in his room, showering and dressing for the evening. Dressing. He couldn’t remember the last time he had worn clothes. It felt like weeks ago rather than the days it must have been.
Javier had slipped a note under his door this morning, reminding him that he had an appointment before tonight’s party. The two male elite vampires he was meeting were the reason for the party, and one of them was the reason Javier was so insistent that he show his face.
His younger brother, Andreu, would be covering for Javier while he was on extended leave for six months to train Lilah in being a vampire and honeymooning with her after their impending nuptials. The other newcomer to the theatre was from a family that were a close acquaintance of Callum’s. Callum had assured him that Payne would be a suitable substitute while he was on paternity leave.
Antoine raked his fingers through his dark hair. Devil. If someone had told him one hundred years ago that the dedicated bachelors who had approached him about opening an erotic theatre would end up besotted and married off, he would have laughed and told them to pull the one with bells on. He hadn’t seen this one coming.
He hadn’t seen Sera coming either.
“And this is the main stage,” Javier said, Spanish accent thick now that he had been in the company of his brother for a day solid. His voice echoed around the empty theatre.
Andreu cast his deep blue gaze over the black stage and the red velvet couches that made up the set. If it hadn’t been for those eyes, so different to Javier’s rich brown ones, and the darker shade of his brown hair, the two of them might have been twins. Javier was barely half an inch taller than his brother was, and both had wide shoulders that filled the breadth of their black designer suits.
Payne was a contrast to both of them. He wore his dirty blond hair cropped close to the sides of his head and spiked on top, and wore black jeans with his pinstriped black shirt. The rolled-up sleeves hugged his toned forearms close to his elbows and revealed an elaborate array of tattoos on their undersides, intricate symbols that had caught Antoine’s attention the moment he had met the young vampire.
And he had eyes that Antoine had discovered were unpleasant to look into for any lengthy period of time. They looked dull slate grey in the low light coming from the stage but back in Antoine’s office, they had shone with the eeriest flecks of amber and blue. The background checks Antoine had run on their two newest employees hadn’t revealed anything unusual, especially where Payne was concerned. In fact, his file was so clean that Antoine suspected the man made a serious amount of effort to stay off the radar. Even Andreu’s had revealed a few fights and some dark business dealings. Javier had vouched for his brother though and Antoine believed him when he said that Andreu was completely devoted to this position and the work it entailed and wouldn’t be a problem.
Andreu was completely devoted to business full stop. Antoine could see it in the way he assessed everything, from the furnishings to the staff. Here was a man dedicated to making money, and lots of it, and God forbid anything tried to get in his way. He reminded Antoine of himself as a youth. Andreu was probably the same age as he had been back when his mind had been more on fast money and pleasure than anything of real worth.
Payne looked across his broad muscled shoulders as the double doors behind Antoine opened. Callum. Antoine didn’t need to look to know the young elite vampire had just walked in with a few performers tailing him.
He kept his gaze on Payne, intrigued by the way the coloured flecks in his eyes pierced the darkness in the moment before he turned his head away and fixed his gaze back on Javier.
Interesting.
Coupled with the tattoos and his all-too-clean background, it was enough to stir Antoine’s curiosity.
But not enough to keep his mind off his apartment and Sera.
Javier continued his tour and Antoine didn’t bother to follow them. He had met the males and had spent enough time with them. His concern shifted to Callum now. The black-haired elite male slouched into one of the front row seats and waved a hand at the performers on the stage. The trio immediately set into action, the two men stripping the woman, slowly peeling her clothes off and kissing each inch of skin they exposed.
“Are we hiring her?” Callum said and Antoine frowned, lost for a moment. “Elizabeth’s youngling.”
“Devil, no,” Antoine muttered and sat next to him in one of the red velvet seats. “If she even tries to get on that stage you are to come and tell me, understand?”
“Javier said you would respond with something like that.” Callum’s green eyes stayed fixed on the performers as they began to go through the more erotic side of their routine. He couldn’t fool Antoine. The elite vampire radiated tension, from his aura to the way he kept picking at the arm of the seat, intent on fraying the fabric.
“How did the scan go?” Antoine spoke low enough that the three performers wouldn’t hear.
Callum swallowed.
“Um, well... she is definitely pregnant.” He tapped his fingers on the seat arm now, his tension mounting.
Any moment now, he was going to explode. Why?
Callum shot around to face h
im, his eyes bright and wide. “Apparently we’re expecting twins.”
Ah. Antoine could see why that might be a problem. Two mixed breeds were more difficult to hide and protect from the uglier side of their world than one.
“I am sure that nothing bad will befall them, Callum. I would be more than happy to have them at the theatre. Kristina is welcome here any time she wishes to come. She would be safer here.” There was a time, probably little more than a few days ago, when he would have been surprised to hear himself saying such a thing to an elite, or any vampire. He smiled to himself. Not anymore. Sera had shown him that allowing others into his life wasn’t a bad thing and that company was good for his soul, and for his bloodlust. It was better to let his emotions out than struggle to keep them contained.
Callum was family, and so was Javier, and that bond extended to those the two elite males loved.
“I know she would,” Callum said on a sigh. “I am trying to convince her to come and stay in my apartment here, but she’s still not sure. She feels The Langham hotel is safer with all the humans around her. No vampire or werewolf would dare cause a ruckus in such a public place.”
“When the twins are born though—”
“I will have her move here. I will not let my children come to harm, and I know you will protect them.”
“Will they be hybrids?” Antoine had never heard of hybrids being born of a union between a vampire and a werewolf. He had heard tales of mixed couples producing offspring but normally those couples went into hiding and were never seen again.
Callum hesitated but then relief blossomed in his eyes. “No. Apparently not. The doctor has said that one will be born vampire and one born werewolf. One hundred percent. No crossover at all.”
Relief washed through Antoine too. “I am glad. It will be far easier to protect them, especially if their parentage remains anonymous. No one need know they were born of a vampire and a werewolf unless they wished to reveal it.”
“Javier was right.”
Antoine frowned. “About what?”
“She is good for you.” Callum grinned.
Antoine huffed. “That is yet to be seen.”
“I’m seeing it right now. The Antoine I left to audition Sera wouldn’t have sat here with me discussing babies.” Callum’s grin cracked even wider. “I presume you’ve been taking precautions in this love affair of yours?”
“Precautions?” Antoine blinked when it hit him. “Sera is not in heat. I would know if she was receptive.”
Callum laughed. “You would if she were an aristocrat.”
Antoine’s blood drained downwards and froze.
Callum laughed louder, drawing the attention of the three vampires on the stage, and clapped a hand down hard on his shoulder.
“I’m just kidding. Elite still have mating cycles, just like the aristocrats.”
Antoine rose from his seat and scowled at him. “I find your jokes quite distasteful. It is no wonder I have never taken the time to share a glass of blood with you.”
“Come on, Antoine,” Callum said but he cut him off with a glare. A reminder. Callum held his hands up and sighed in resignation. “Fine, I get it. You’re still the boss... no bad jokes.”
Antoine huffed again and stormed towards the double doors that led backstage, intent on heading to his office there and finding some peace so he could get his head straight at last. Sera was under his skin, intoxicated him whenever he was near her, but he still had his doubts about her and what he was doing. It would be too easy to go along with whatever was happening between them, blindly sinking deeper into something that could end up destroying him. Anya stood at the back of his mind and in his heart, a shadowy reminder that things he thought were going well could so easily go wrong.
“Antoine,” Callum called out and he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “Thank you for everything though. I really do appreciate it.”
Antoine nodded and pushed the doors open. They swung shut behind him, closing with enough force that the sound echoed around the black-walled double-height room. What if Callum was wrong about mating cycles? He frowned. A thousand years old was too young for starting a family, especially with one who was probably not a day over thirty.
It wasn’t just the nine hundred odd years’ age gap that kept his blood cold in his veins though.
Bloodlust was genetic.
He would pass it on to any children he might produce.
The desire to be alone intensified but he ignored it, knowing what he really needed to soothe the tempest in his mind, and climbed the stairs to the second floor where his apartment and those of his three friends were. He paused outside his mahogany panelled door and then continued along the black and gold hallway to Snow’s.
“Enter,” Snow said before he even had time to knock. He twisted the brass knob and pushed the door open, revealing Snow reclining on the black covers of his bed in only his boxer shorts and an open black robe. “I wondered how long it would be before you came to check on me. You spiked a few minutes ago. Did Callum say something upsetting?”
Antoine would never get used to the incredible strength of his brother’s senses. It always astounded him when his brother told him everywhere he had been and who he had been speaking with while there.
He closed the door and crossed the wooden floor to Snow’s bed. Snow settled his open book on his stomach, pages face down. Antoine’s gaze flicked to it. War and Peace. A little light reading. The spine was cracked and worn. He would need to buy Snow a new copy soon. He wasn’t sure how many times Snow had read it now, or how he could stand to read the same novels over and over again when there were so many new ones out there. Snow liked the classics though. Antoine could remember his brother reading to him when he was a toddler, telling him Nordic stories of incredible gods and worlds beyond the imagination, and tales of things he had seen during his travels. Snow was more than just a brother to him. He had been like a father too, the age gap between them meaning that Snow had been fully grown long before Antoine had been born. Snow had raised him with his mother, leaving their father free to focus on his business and on protecting their entire family.
“How is your female?” Snow gave him an expectant look.
Antoine hadn’t come here to talk about her but he couldn’t help himself now that his brother had mentioned her.
He sat on the edge of the bed, side on to Snow, and rubbed his hand over his face and then his dark hair, trying to think about where to start.
“She is well... excited about the party tonight.”
“Something is troubling you, Brother.” Snow sat up and placed his book on the ebony bedside table. Antoine noticed the chafing on his wrist as the sleeve of his silk robe rode up his arm. Snow smiled. “Do not worry about me too. You have enough worries. You fear she will hurt you.”
Antoine had never been able to hide anything from his brother. Not his monumental joy at having found a woman he had thought would become his eternal mate, and not his crushing agony on discovering that she had disappeared without a trace.
“You feel everything so keenly.” Snow propped himself up on his right elbow. “Sometimes your feelings cannot be trusted though, Antoine.”
“What do you mean?” He frowned and looked across his shoulder at his brother.
Snow sighed and combed his fingers through his white hair, preening it back from his face. His pale eyes were like clear winter skies, no spot of cloud marring them. Antoine’s own eyes held pale flakes like snow and he had always thought his brother deserved them more than he did. They would have suited him. A vampire liked mystery and it was something Snow had never lacked. No one ever believed them when they said that his parents had named him Snow. They had, but not in English.
“You know what I mean.” Snow leaned back again, arranging himself against his black pillows. “She is not Anya.”
Didn’t he know it? Sera tied him in more knots than Anya had ever managed. He wasn’t sure whether he was coming or going whe
re she was concerned. When he was with her, everything felt right and good, incredible, and he could even go as far as to say that he was happy for the first time in many long years. He had never felt so alive, so content, as he did when he was in her arms, and he had never felt so connected to anyone. When he was away from her though, the doubts began to creep in, the voices of his past whispering dark things to him, warnings about what could happen if he accepted Sera into his life and his heart.
“Do you think she loves you?” Snow said and Antoine frowned.
“I am not sure... not yet... I don’t think so. Maybe she would in time.”
Snow sighed again. “Good... I want you to have another chance at love. One of us deserves something good in our lives, and out of both of us, it should be you. You deserve it.”
Antoine hated the note of resignation that lined the edge of his brother’s voice. He was thinking about his death again, always seeking the easy way out. Antoine wouldn’t let that happen. He would help him defeat his bloodlust and would see him happy before he did anything about pursuing his own happiness.
He touched his brother’s hand and Snow met his gaze. “We both deserve someone who will love us for who we are and will not leave us, but it is not something I am looking for at this moment. I will not let anything stand between us, do you understand?”
Snow laughed mirthlessly. “I understand. You intend to make me keep that wretched promise. I grow tired of this hollow life, Brother... one day you will have to let me go.”
Antoine squeezed his hand, his throat constricting even as anger seeped into his veins. “Never. Do you hear me, Snow? I will never let you go. I will help you defeat your bloodlust or I will die trying with you.”
Seduce (Vampire Erotic Theatre Romance Series #3) Page 14