by L.H. Cosway
“You don’t need to fear me,” he said, voice low.
I plastered on a tight smile. “I don’t fear you.”
“I can smell that you do,” he countered, nostrils flaring. I stiffened in self-consciousness. He could smell how I felt? Obviously, there was a lot more I needed to learn about vampires than the small bit he’d told me tonight.
“Okay, I’m scared of you,” I admitted. “But can you blame me?”
Ethan let out a frustrated sigh. “Did I not let that slayer live because you asked me?”
“Why yes, how charitable of you.” I didn’t mean to sound so sarcastic, but I tended to get bitchy when I was frightened or stressed.
“It was charitable. The man wanted me dead. He still does. And I’m going to have the headache of dealing with him when he comes for me again, something I will endure for you.”
I swallowed tightly, not knowing how to respond. “I need some time to digest all of this. It’s a lot to absorb in one night.” My voice was quieter now.
Ethan let go of my wrist, his expression tender. “You’re right. Go home. Get some rest, but please, don’t try to run from me. We will achieve wonderful things together if you just give me a chance.”
He sounded so certain. Could vampires see into the future? I had no idea. Turning, I hurried down the street, making sure Ethan had driven away before I headed to my building.
I fumbled in my bag for my key and opened the lobby door, almost jumping out of my skin when I caught sight of him standing across the street.
“How did you … You followed me!” I yelled accusingly at him. He glanced from left to right, then walked across the street, approaching me hesitantly.
“Please don’t freak out,” Ethan said, hands in the air. “I wanted to make sure you got to your apartment safely. The DOH doesn’t take kindly to humans who associate with vampires. They might’ve had another vehicle following us.”
“So those crazies could be coming for me next?” I could almost taste the sharp tang of fear on my tongue.
“They won’t get to you. I won’t let that happen,” he reassured me, and my skin tingled with the protectiveness in his voice. I couldn’t help it. One part of me feared him, while the other part … wanted him. I had to keep reminding myself that the world’s greatest predators were often quite beautiful.
“Okay, well, you can go now. I’m not inviting you in.”
“That particular myth isn’t true. I don’t need an invitation. I would like one though.”
“Why?”
“To ensure there are no slayers already waiting inside.”
“So, purely for security reasons?”
“Purely,” Ethan nodded.
My gut clenched. I wasn’t a huge fan of letting him inside, but if some slayer was laying in wait for me in my apartment, then I certainly didn’t want to face them alone.
I made a sweeping hand gesture. “In that case, come on in.”
Ethan walked ahead of me as I directed him to the sixth floor. I felt his eyes on my profile as I stared straight ahead, focusing intently on the doors of the lift. When they pinged open, Ethan emerged first. He paused outside the door of my apartment, sniffing the air and listening intently. He gave a nod for me to unlock it. I did, and he pushed it open. Ethan stood on the threshold, going freakishly still.
“What is it?” I whispered. “Is someone in there?”
“No,” he replied, looking perturbed. “It’s just that your apartment smells like … death.”
You’d know all about that now wouldn’t you, I thought snidely.
“My boyfriend,” I said, swallowing down a lump in my throat. “He passed away in here a few months ago.”
Ethan’s expression softened. He looked taken aback by what I said. “My condolences. How did he—”
“Drug overdose,” I answered flatly as I went to put my bag and coat on the hanger. “The coroner said it was a suicide, most likely.” I paused, my brow furrowing. “How can you smell death?”
“My senses are extremely heightened,” he explained, crossing the threshold and stepping inside. “I can smell traces of things that occurred months and even years into the past.”
Well, that was both impressive and unsettling. “Is that how you could smell my fear, too?”
“Yes.”
I chewed on my lip as I went to turn on the kettle for my nightly tea and Turkish Delight ritual. Ethan didn’t make any move to leave, even though he’d determined no one had broken into my apartment. Instead, he closed the door behind him.
“Would you mind if I used your bathroom to clean up?”
“Go ahead.”
When he returned, the blood was gone from his face and hands. He lowered himself onto the couch, and I got the sense that he was taking everything in. Self-consciousness nipped at me. My place was small, so there wasn’t a whole lot to take in. Would he judge how cheap and worn my furniture was? I’d never really made enough money to own nice things, but I suspected Ethan Cristescu lived in a place full of luxury.
Then again, he’d been alive for almost three centuries. That certainly gave you enough time to amass some wealth. He eyed my bookshelf. “You have varied interests.” He scanned the weathered spines, from history to science to modern psychology. Most of my books were second-hand or borrowed from the library.
“I didn’t get the chance to go to college, but I like to learn, so I read a lot. I try to learn about a few new topics each year.”
“That’s an admirable goal. Few people realise that learning is a lifelong pursuit.”
“I agree,” I said as I approached with refreshments.
“Turkish Delight?” Ethan asked as I placed two cups of tea down on the coffee table. He might’ve been a vampire, and a part of me might’ve been terrified of him, but I still had manners. I always offered guests tea. The hospitality was ingrained in me, whether or not my guest was a homicidal maniac who only consumed blood.
“I’m a bit addicted,” I admitted.
“Thank you for the tea, but I don’t drink it.”
“Just let me pretend for a few minutes that everything is normal,” I said, an edge of desperation in my voice.
“Normal is overrated, but I will feign drinking tea if it comforts you.”
“It does,” I said, taking a bite of the sweet, rosewater scented confection.
“I spent time in Constantinople as a young man,” Ethan spoke quietly, his eyes on my throat as I swallowed. Despite everything, something was soothing about his voice. “Around the same time those candies became popular, funnily enough. It was an interesting period. The Ottoman Empire was nearing its decline, and there was much change in the air.”
I couldn’t help but stare at him in awe. Here was a man who’d lived through so much. Part of me wanted to stay awake all night and pick his brain. “What was the world like back then?”
“It was a lot less hygienic, that was for sure,” he said, surprising a laugh out of me. “People were more savage, too, but the world required savagery then in a way it doesn’t anymore. For the most part, at least. I’ve lived through periods of war and strife when to kill was necessary, rather than the depraved act of a psychopath.” He eyed me pointedly, and I knew what he was trying to say. He was trying to show me that yes, he killed people, but not because he enjoyed it. And maybe I was being naïve, but I started to understand. If I’d lived through a period of violent war, perhaps I’d have killed people, too.
Several moments of silence passed before he spoke again. “With your permission, I’d like to try something.”
“What do you want to try?”
His eyes flashed eagerly. “I want to level the full force of my compulsion on you and see if it works.”
I clearly needed to get my head checked because that sounded kind of sexy.
I took a sip of tea because my mouth had gone decidedly dry all of a sudden. “Okay, but no funny business.”
My answer seemed to please him because the hint of
a smile graced his lips as he turned to face me fully. “No funny business,” he promised before taking the teacup from my hand and placing it down on the table, his fingers a cool caress against my skin. Then he clasped either side of my face in his palms, and a flutter went through me at the connection. “Look into my eyes,” he whispered.
I did as he requested, though it was hard to stare right into them. They were too overwhelming—like staring directly into the sun. There was a flash of mischief in his gaze when he spoke and his voice was mesmerizingly husky. “Tegan,” he said. “Take off your dress.”
At this, I gave a loud scoff, “No chance.”
He grinned. “It was worth a try.” His hands slid from my cheeks, briefly grazing my neck, before falling away completely. I instantly missed his touch. What was wrong with me?
“I really am immune.” I wondered what exactly it was that made me resistant to his compulsion. Marcel and Gabriel might very well be right about my mother casting a spell on me. Did that mean she was a witch? I’d been so young when she died that I barely had any memories of her.
“It seems so,” Ethan agreed. He didn’t sound annoyed. He sounded impressed as he stared at me like I was some rare and precious gem on display in a fancy museum. “Come here,” he whispered, and though his compulsion didn’t work on me, something else did. There was something about him that drew me in, and his open arms were a comfort I couldn’t seem to resist in that moment. I shifted closer, allowing him to envelop me in his solidity and strength.
“Tell me about him,” he murmured as he traced relaxing circles on my bare arm.
“About who?”
“The man who died here.”
My heart gave a swift clench at his request. “His name was Matthew,” I said quietly. “We weren’t together long, but I did love him. It’s still hard for me to believe that he killed himself.”
“People commit suicide for all manner of reasons,” Ethan murmured.
I closed my eyes, willing away the emotion threatening to clog my throat. “He was a sensitive soul, and he had a sadness in him. I just didn’t realise the true extent of it until he was gone. We spend so much time being busy, working and trying to make ends meet, not paying full attention to the people we treasure most. All the while, there’s this inner turmoil that they’re struggling with and you’re completely clueless.” Unbidden, a tear fell down my cheek. Ethan reached out and wiped it away with his finger. I didn’t open my eyes, choosing instead to enjoy the simple comfort of being held.
I didn’t intend to fall asleep, but the next thing I knew it was morning and I was waking up alone on my couch as sunlight streamed in through the curtains. On the coffee table lay a note written in a beautiful cursive script.
Dear Tegan,
My apologies for departing before you awoke, but I needed to leave before sunrise. I’d like you to come to the club tonight at sundown to discuss some outstanding matters.
Yours sincerely,
Ethan.
P.S. You are even more delectable when you sleep.
Butterflies fluttered through me at that last line. But what did he mean by outstanding matters? It felt a bit ominous. After taking a shower and dressing in some leggings and a knit top, I found my phone and dialled Amanda’s number. I needed to speak to her to see if she was okay. Nicki said in her text last night that she was out of it, but I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant.
The phone rang a few times before she picked up, sounding tired. “Hello?”
“Hey, Amanda, it’s Tegan. Um, how are you?” I asked awkwardly. We’d never been particularly close, so she had to think it was odd that I was calling her.
“I’m okay,” she answered warily. “A little hungover from last night, but otherwise, I’m good.”
“You are?” I said, my relief evident.
“Of course. What’s going on? Why are you calling me? You never call me.”
“Well, I just noticed that you went off alone with that guy last night and—”
“You mean Lucas? Yeah, we made out a little. He’s hot. I gave him my number. Fingers crossed he calls.”
So, they really could wipe memories. Amanda had no clue that Ethan’s friend sank his fangs into her last night. “Yeah, fingers crossed,” I said, not meaning it in the slightest. If anything, I had my fingers crossed that he wouldn’t call. I didn’t want Amanda getting addicted to vampire bites like Ethan said could happen. “Well, I better go. Talk soon, yeah?”
“Sure,” she replied. “I’m really glad we’re speaking again, Tegan. We all missed you.”
There was a knock on my door as soon as I hung up the phone. When I opened it, I found Florence standing on my doorstep, glancing anxiously from side to side.
“Can I come in?” she asked, looking tetchy.
“Sure,” I said, standing aside. She hurried in, and I closed the door behind her. “What’s up?”
Florence chewed her lower lip. “I’m so s-s-sorry about my dad. He said he came to see you.”
I reached out and clasped her shoulders, levelling her with a serious look. “Hey, you don’t need to apologise. Not for him. Not ever. And if you want to hang out here today feel free. I’m off work so I was planning on making all my favourite comfort foods and having a movie marathon.” After last night’s world tilting experience, I needed a day of rest and indulgence.
Florence smiled. “That sounds amazing.” Then she frowned, her eyes moving intently from my shoulders to the top of my head. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, why do you ask?”
She blinked, then shook her head. “Nothing. Don’t mind me. Comfort food and a movie marathon sound amazing.”
“Great. I’ll go get started on the food.”
***
Later that day, I left Florence napping on my couch as I headed out to meet Ethan. Whether I liked it or not, I’d taken a misstep into a brand-new world, and though it was scary, I needed to be a grown-up about it. Face whatever was to come head-on, even though a part of me just wanted to run away in terror.
As I waited at the bus stop, I locked eyes with a man standing outside a building across the street. He was handsome, with light brown hair in a crew-cut, dark eyebrows, and bright blue eyes. There was a sort of military vibe about him. He was tall and well built, and he looked familiar. He stared at me intently, as though he recognised me.
Then, just as my bus arrived, the penny finally dropped. A chill ran down my spine because I’d seen the man before. He was the slayer, the one I begged Ethan not to kill. The only man left alive in that industrial estate last night. And just like Ethan told me, he obviously wasn’t going to quit hunting him until one of them was dead. Wait, was he hunting me now, too? Ethan said they didn’t take kindly to humans who associated with vampires. His intent stare was creepily sinister, never leaving me as I climbed on the bus, paid my fare, and took a seat.
I glanced out the window and there he was, still eyeballing me. Some kind of intention lay in his eyes, and I worried it was a bad intention. I couldn’t believe he was gunning for me after I convinced Ethan to spare his life.
Ungrateful bastard.
I was still on edge when I arrived at Crimson. I pressed the buzzer on the big steel door, and it opened a moment later, revealing Delilah. She wore tight pale jeans and a black string top with a pair of bright pink Sketchers. Ethan said she was half-vampire and half-human. I wondered how old she was.
“Hello, Tegan,” she greeted, a knowing look in her eyes. Ethan had clearly filled her in on last night’s events.
“Delilah, hi. I’m supposed to be meeting with Ethan.”
“I know,” she replied. “Come on in.”
The club was empty. I imagined it didn’t open for another hour or two. Delilah led me past the bar and to the corridor where Ethan’s office was located. Just before we reached the room, she turned back to me, her expression serious. “A word of warning. We have guests.”
Before I could ask her who the guests were, she pus
hed the door open, and I laid eyes on the last two people I expected to find in the office of Ethan Cristescu.
Marcel and Gabriel.
9.
They sat in the two chairs directly opposite Ethan’s sleek, imposing desk, while Lucas and another man sat on the leather couch. A sliver of guilt ran through me. Had I gotten Marcel and Gabriel into trouble through their association with me? I felt like a walking, talking smashed mirror.
Seven years bad luck.
Delilah closed the door behind us once we’d entered the room. “What’s going on here?” I asked cautiously. Ethan stood at the head of his desk, a hint of warmth entering his eyes when he saw me. I thought of last night and how I’d fallen asleep in his arms. Butterflies flitted through me at the memory.
“Tegan, please take a seat.”
I took the empty chair next to Gabriel while I continued to eye Ethan. “Why have you brought Marcel and Gabriel here?”
Marcel didn’t look happy, while Gabriel stared at Ethan with an expression that brought the phrase if looks could kill to mind. Ethan appeared unaffected by the obvious hostility in Gabriel’s glare.
Ethan cleared his throat before addressing me. “As you have recently discovered, we vampires are not merely the creation of myth and legend. We are very real, and our kind has populated the city of Tribane for many centuries now. I’ve told you some things about our species, but not nearly all of it, and those are the outstanding matters that need to be addressed.” He paused a moment, and I gave a little nod for him to continue.
“Through your discovery of our existence you have inadvertently become involved in our society, and so, you must know what this involvement entails. There are rules to this world, and those rules need to be followed.” Ethan’s voice was direct and informative, devoid of the affection he sometimes showed. “For you, this city is open. As a human, you’re not attached to our world, and therefore, are not obligated to obey our rules. You may come and go as you please. But for us, there is segregation.”