“Because, I don’t want to.” The emptiness came back, making her feel queasy. She shelved some coffee mugs, nesting their handles carefully so they’d all fit in the cabinet.
“Has he told you much about Mason?”
Mugs clanged together, jarring Lena. She unclenched her teeth to say, “He told me a little. I guess he’s handsome, women like him. Kos says it’s a good match.”
Water had pooled in the mug’s pedestal, and she dried it with a dishtowel.
“So you’ve been waiting your whole life to do the blood-sex thing and you’re going to give it up to a stranger?”
“Yeah, if he wants me. Nobody around here does.” She showed no mercy to the water spots on the mug, her damp towel squeaking against the glass.
“Kos wants you, Lena.”
“But not for keeps.” She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, embarrassed to pout in front of Zoey.
“Which do you want? Keeps, or blood and sex?”
Urgh! Okay, so maybe Lena was a little angry. She wanted to hurl the mug onto the tile floor and watch it shatter. Maybe it would crack the tile too, and she would know she’d left her mark somewhere at Kaštel. Instead, she clenched it tightly with both hands to resist the urge.
“Zoey, if I knew the answer to that question, I could decide between a vampire life or human life. But it wouldn’t do shit to help my broken heart.”
“Heart?” Zoey’s mouth fell open, making her look like Lena had just stripped off her clothes and danced a naked Irish jig in the middle of the kitchen.
For no clear reason, she found Zoey’s surprise satisfying. “Yeah. Heart.”
Lena set the mug onto the countertop with extreme care, proud it was still whole, unbroken. If only she could get out of Kaštel equally intact. She walked out of the kitchen without saying good-bye to her friend.
Exhausted from her work in the kitchen, Lena pressed her forehead against the window in Kos’s room and admired the view. The sinking sun washed the sky pink over the brilliant green vineyards. She wouldn’t miss Kaštel, but she might miss the breathtaking hillsides, the sunny weather, her friends, Zoey, Kos…
No, she wouldn’t miss Kaštel at all.
She wiped at a smoky smudge on the window. It didn’t come off. It wasn’t a smudge. A thin line of smoke snaked upward off a nearby hillside.
Oh God. A fire.
The coil of smoke grew thicker from the heart of the vineyard.
Trys first, or Kos? Trys could extend the shield. “Trys! Kos! Fire! Fire!” She dashed from the room yelling louder than she thought possible.
She was at the top of the cellar steps in search of Kos when Trys called from the dining room’s doorway. “Where?”
“The vines are on fire! Look out the window.”
Trys pivoted to face the flames. “Shit.”
The doorknob in Lena’s hand jerked suddenly, and she scurried back to get clear as Kos and Andre barreled through.
“Where’s the fire?” Andre barked. Raw, wild emotion played on his face.
Lena’s voice came out a strained whisper. “It’s the vines.”
“Trys!” Andre bellowed.
“On it,” the witch called out. “Feed me.”
“I’ll get the ice cream,” Lena exclaimed, glad to have a job.
Andre and Kos pushed passed her toward the dining room.
In the kitchen, she tucked a scoop and a spoon into her back pockets, hefted the five-gallon container of Deep Dark Chocolate Secret onto her hip, and balanced a bowl on top. She hurried into the dining room, where Andre, Zoey, Kos, and Pedro stood in a line, their faces plastered to the windows. The sky faded from pink to gray. Lena scooped the ice cream and set a bowl in front of Trys, who had gone pale with effort. Eyes closed tight and hands fisted, the witch sat ramrod straight at the table. Lena set the bowl in front of her.
Trys’s eyes popped open. “Feed it to me.”
Lena scraped a mouthful of ice cream and held it up to the witch’s tense mouth. “Is the shield…?”
“Up,” Trys replied in between swallows. “Vania and Arden are out there with fire extinguishers.”
Lena stole glances out the window, trying to see how much of the vineyard had burned, all the while continuing to spoon calories into the witch’s mouth.
The vampires remained speechless.
Trys licked her lips. “Lena, the shield is ten times bigger than it was. That means—”
“Ten times the ice cream. Got it.”
“I’ll need more than ice cream.” She opened her mouth for another spoonful and swallowed it in a quick gulp. “High-protein, high-calorie foods. Peanut butter, eggs, those shakes old folks drink. Non-stop. Understand? My mouth must be full all the time.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Lena said. It was one more thing she could do before she left, and it might just save them all. For a while, at least.
Minutes passed in pregnant silence interrupted only by the spoon scraping the ceramic bowl.
A door slammed downstairs. Moments later, a soot-smudged and sweaty Vania walked in. “Fire’s out.”
“Tell me,” Andre demanded.
“Coulda been worse.”
He nodded. “I want to see.”
Only then did Zoey turn away from the window. “I’m going with you.” Andre pulled her to his side tightly, and Lena’s stomach sank. She wanted someone to hold her like that, to reassure her.
The muscles of Andre’s jaw rippled when he unclenched them to speak again. “Vania, if the fire department arrives, please deal with them.”
“One of my specialties,” she agreed.
The sky had darkened to near dusk. A few more minutes yet before it would be safe for him to go out.
The windows lit up with a flash of light and everyone jumped.
“Damn it. They’ve got those damn Molotov cocktails again. And flame throwers this time too. But they weren’t expecting the shield.” Vania hopped onto the table, and ruffled the witch’s hair short brown hair. “Amazing, Trys! Your biggest by far.”
Haggard and wan, her face appeared ten years older than when Lena told her about the fire only minutes earlier. She barely acknowledged the compliment.
Zoey pressed both her palms against the window. “Why aren’t they retreating?”
“They’ve got all their guns and nothing to do with them, I suspect.” Vania ran her finger along the inside of the ice cream bowl and licked it. Lena envied her ability to remain casual.
The last hint of pink turned to twilight in the sky.
Kos moved to the door in a flash. “Let’s go.”
“I’m going too.” Lena handed Trys’s spoon to Vania.
“Like hell.” Instantly, Kos hovered over her like he’d been there all along.
He was just being overprotective.
“Back off,” she whispered and followed the vampires outside. The smoky smell of burning wood and gasoline hung heavy in the air. They moved quickly in the narrow aisles between two trellised grapevines. Lena jogged to keep up, holding her hands in front of her so the stray tendrils of vine didn’t lash her face. After a few minutes, they reached a charred swath of earth the size of a basketball court. The fire had left nothing but black sticks straining to reach the trellises.
Lena bent to examine a burnt stub of vine. Movement in the corner of her eye grabbed her attention. Zoey raised her arm, pointing up the hill at a group of Hunters, who stood within throwing distance on the other side of the invisible shield. A crouched man aimed something that looked like a skinny cannon right at the group, and Lena found herself wrapped in Kos’s arms without knowing who had gone to whom. She buried her face in his chest as a grenade launched from the weapon and exploded against the shield above them, flashing like lightning and shaking the ground.
Pedro sprinted toward the men, but before he took three steps Andre had both his shoulders in what looked like a painful grip. Lena barely heard his growl.
“On the other side of that shield, a fla
methrower is as good as the sun to you.”
Pedro acquiesced, dropping into a crouch.
Zoey crossed her arms and called out. “Hello, Ethan.”
“Zoey. And my old friend Pedro.” Ethan offered a mocking salute. “Marasović, how nice to meet you face to face. And I assume this is your son. Who is his lovely friend?”
“Ethan, why don’t you give up this and go home?” Zoey’s voice did not waver, but exhaustion deepened its pitch. “No one’s getting hurt in this household, and no one is here against their will.”
The Hunter squared his lean hips at Zoey. Lena had to admit he was handsome, and powerfully built, for a human.
But he spoke like a real blowhard. “That is not an option. It is our solemn duty to exterminate the vampires and their household. However, Zoey, my men know you are special to me. They know you are an innocent victim of Marasović. We will offer you safety and protection from him, should you decide to leave.”
Andre snorted, and in that moment, Lena almost liked him and his cocky assurance that Zoey had chosen him over the human.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “This is my home now, and the shield isn’t coming down.”
“I do miss your willfulness.” Ethan’s cruelly playful tone turned Lena’s spine to ice. Men shouldn’t talk that way to women. Ever.
Kos must have felt her shudder; he pulled her closer.
“Fuck off, Ethan.” Zoey spun, striding toward the house, and the Maras household followed her.
Even though they were once again under siege, energy prickled from her nape to her shoulders, where she imagined the gaze of the Hunters. Turning her back on her enemies was a new kind of power, far better than waving her middle fingers at the creeps would have been. Her lips curved into a private smile.
The last of the group, she shuffled into the kitchen next to Kos. He took hold of her arm and raised his voice, calling everyone to attention. “We owe Lena our thanks. She spotted the fire and acted fast. Your quick thinking saved the vineyards.”
“Kos is right.” Andre stepped toward her and extended his hand. “Thank you. Just as with your pantry, you have proven yourself invaluable to our safety and wellbeing.”
The praise glanced off her. It was too little too late. But the proud shine in Kos’s eyes—that she could accept. She bowed her head at him. His face reddened and he looked away.
“Speaking of which,” Lena said. “I need to make arrangements for Trys. I’ll prepare food for her, but given what she told me about her energy needs, you may need to get her an IV. I don’t think it’s possible for a human to eat as much as she says she needs.” She glanced between Zoey and Kos, unsure which of them would become responsible for these things that Andre couldn’t be bothered with. Both of them nodded, so she continued. “And take care of her. The shield is a huge strain.”
One by one, they filed out of the kitchen. Lena cooked until she could barely stand on her feet. By the time she crawled into bed, she had no trouble falling asleep and no need of brandy.
Lena tried to cling to the diaphanous threads of her dream, knowing that, when they slipped through her fingers, the soft, warm, sweet smelling baby would also be gone. She loved him as deeply as she imagined a mother loved her child. And then he was gone, his round face vanishing in the gray morning light.
The sharp ache in her breast turned the pleasant fantasy into a nightmare.
She shook it off. Keep busy. Only one more day. Prepare for the party. Don’t stop to think!
She poured her energy into work stuffing peppers, cleaning sardines and dressing them with olive oil, laying flat breads on the countertop to cool.
Finally, she surveyed the food, ready to declare victory. She’d accomplished the work of two chefs. But her head swam. She’d forgotten to eat, so she tried some of the dishes she had made. Everything was good, and the peppers were sweet and savory and absolutely delicious.
Last on her to do list—dessert.
It was the baklava that did it.
How could she not imagine Kos as a boy, licking his fingers? When she drizzled the sweet-smelling liquid all over the flaky, still-hot pastry, his words came back to her. You taste just like honey. Her blood heated and rushed between her legs, where she began to throb.
Tomorrow she was going to give herself to a stranger.
Maybe Kos should be her first instead. At least she could have him once. He would give her what she’d been waiting for all these years, if she could put aside her sense of rejection long enough to enjoy him for one night.
Afterwards, leaving would be more painful.
But moisture had already pooled in her panties, and there was no sense arguing with her body. If he would still have her, then she would give herself to him before she left. The work was done. She would spend her last night at Kaštel with Kos.
She was a wreck—work jeans covered in flour, a dish towel tucked into her back pocket, smelly clogs made for standing all day, a tank top splattered with tomato sauce. It was probably in her hair too.
A shower first, and then she would find him. She opened the kitchen door and took down the Keep Out sign. When she turned around, he was there. Her hand flew to her hair and she frowned. She’d wanted to be dressed for seduction.
He mirrored her expression, concerned. “What’s wrong?”
Stepping close, she wrapped her arms around his neck and brushed his lips with hers. He stiffened, so she let her tongue slip along his closed mouth. He groaned.
“Lena…”
Oh God. What if he said no?
She deepened the kiss to head off a rejection. He grew hard against her belly—a good sign.
Then he pulled back. “Sweetheart, I love kissing you, but you said you didn’t want this.”
“I changed my mind.”
He looked at her expectantly. Darn. She would have to say more, even if she couldn’t tell him everything. Hoping for some privacy, she pulled him into the kitchen.
“I want it to be you.”
“What?”
“My first time sharing sex and blood.”
“Lena, Mason will—”
“I want it to be you.”
He smoothed hair off her forehead and then cupped her cheek in his palm. “Won’t that make it harder for you? Krist, Lena, it will make it harder for me.”
His eyes were sad and gray, his mouth stretched into a tight grimace. She hadn’t expected him to be conflicted.
“Yes, it will make it harder for me. But, it also means I’m giving myself to you for the first time, not a stranger.”
His eyes dilated and he pulled her closer. She’d hit the right note. He was nothing if not protective.
He whispered in her ear. “How can I argue with that?”
Unadulterated joy barreled through her, followed by a wave of grief. But when the bliss passed, she held the smile on her face. He mirrored it, like he had her frown. He was radiantly beautiful, eyes crinkling at the edges, full lips stretching wide, and sexy dimples deepening. To have him look at her like that, even for just a little while, was worth almost anything.
“Let me go upstairs and clean up. Give me fifteen minutes?”
“I’m not letting you out of my sight. I’ll clean you up.”
She should have been embarrassed, but his offer sent tingles up her legs.
He picked her up and cradled her to him, carrying her to his room. Inside the door, he pressed the lock and slid into the bathroom. Moments later, the shower pounded water into the tub. She flipped on a lamp beside the bed, and its warm light glowed like a flame on the crimson quilt. Back at her side in no time, he pulled her tank top over her head and lowered his eyes to her chest. She wore a functional pink bra, and under his electric blue gaze her nipples hardened.
He stroked the side of her breast. “You are too beautiful for words. If I undress you and bathe you, this will be over in the bathtub in two minutes flat.” He licked his lips. “You deserve better.”
Her skin heated wit
h a blush. This was why she loved him—with Kos, she could believe she was special.
He handed her the fluffy pink bathrobe she’d left on the bed. “I’ll wait out here.”
She tiptoed into the bathroom and undressed. Her hair wasn’t too bad, so she swept it into a twist—taking time with the blow dryer would probably kill them both. Under the hot water, she rinsed off the kitchen grime. Beginning with her feet, she lathered herself and imagined what was coming. Would he bite her first? Could she take him in her mouth again? That had been an unexpected pleasure. But, for this to work the way she wanted it to, she would have to time everything just right.
She soaped between her legs and remembered his mouth on her. And like that she was ready for him. Her soapy hands raced across the rest of her body. She rinsed and dried off in a flurry of motion, into the bathrobe and out of the bathroom in seconds. She was breathless when she came to stand in front of him.
He was in the armchair. The Brothers Karamazov was open and face down on his knee. If her time in the shower had increased her urgency, he’d used it to get his under control. His stare was not exactly predatory, but it left no doubt he intended to devour her. Desire flooded her body.
His nostrils flared. “I can smell you.”
“I know.” And knowing made her even wetter.
“Come here.”
She took a step toward him, and he untied the sash of her robe. It fell open and slid off her shoulders, then dropped to the floor.
Pulse racing, she asked, “Aren’t you—” Her throat hitched, and she had to swallow twice to moisten it. “Aren’t you going to take your clothes off?”
“Soon. I just want to look at you.”
And he did. After long minutes, he stood up and walked behind her. She wanted to turn around so that she could keep him in her sight, but when she shifted her weight, he said, “Stay where you are, beautiful. I want to see all of you.”
Occasionally, the sole of his shoe quietly rubbed on the hardwood floor, signaling his movement. In that stretch of time under his gaze, she realized most men would have asked her to turn around, but he circled her like she was a fine sculpture to be admired.
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