Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
I fold my hands in my lap and sit back in the chair. Maybe he doesn’t need company, but I do. Even his.
He looks at me over the edge of the leather-wrapped tome. “You wouldn’t know it.”
“Try me.”
He slides a second book—this one with an explicit cover—from the middle of the antique-looking book. “The Vampire’s BoyToy. Do you know it?”
“I …”
“Didn’t think so.” He slides it back down.
“Why hide it?” I glance around the empty room. “It’s not like anyone’s here to judge.”
“You’re here,” he fires back.
“I don’t care what you read.”
“Good. Now go away. Haunt some other room.” He flicks his fingers at me.
“No.” I tuck my feet beneath me.
He groans again, but he doesn’t leave.
I take that as a win. The fire crackles, sending out a wall of warmth. The mansion always seems to be cool, though not uncomfortably so. Even so, I’m always cold. The clothes in my closet range from simple t-shirts to heavy sweaters. I opt for the sweaters and jeans, though I have to cinch them tightly with a belt I stole from my bathrobe. Two layers of socks and a pair of house slippers—no other shoe choices are available—also help to insulate me from the clinical chill in the air. But there’s nothing like a roaring fire. It drew me in, and now that I feel its warmth, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
We sit in silence for a long time. I have a million questions I want to ask him, but if I do, I fear he’ll simply get up and leave. So I let him read while I watch the flames.
I’m dozing off when he slams his book shut.
“Go ahead.” He rolls his eyes.
“Hmm?” I sit up and rub my eyes.
“Talk. I can feel a logjam of stupid questions all piled up inside you. It’s like you’re constipated. You disgusted me before, now it’s even worse.”
“Why do you have such a problem with me?” I fire back.
“Because you don’t belong here,” he snaps.
“And you do?”
“Yes,” he says confidently. “Ask your idiotic questions or don’t. Up to you.”
“Where’s Valen?” I blurt out. It’s what’s always at the forefront of my mind. The fear of him. I look for him around corners and in doorways. It’s been two days since he came at me in the hallway, and I’m always tense for another attack.
“Out winning Gregor’s war.” He puts his books on the table beside him and settles down on the dark blue sofa, his feet dangling off the end.
“The war—you mean killing—”
“Everyone.” He smiles to himself. “Killing all the humans.”
I swallow hard. “Because of Theo?”
“Yes.”
“Why? I mean—” Pain explodes behind my eyes for a moment when I try to put together my thought.
“Because Theo was his son.” Gorsky looks at me like I’m utterly stupid.
“But isn’t Valen—” The pain threatens again, and I go silent.
“Also his son?” he fills in. “Yes, but no.”
Wait, Valen is Gregor’s son? The spike in my forehead returns when I focus on that fact. Did I already know it before Gorsky said it? I can’t get a grip on my own mind. It’s like some of it has been scraped away and replaced with a mishmash of thoughts. Fragments of knowledge, all disjointed and at sharp angles.
“Theo was his heir.” He waves a hand dramatically, and I notice a bandage at his wrist. “A pureblooded Dragonis heir. Do you have any idea how rare that is? Most vampire births kill the mother and the child. For Gregor to have sired a child like Theo, and for Theo to have lived—it guaranteed their dynasty forever. The other bloodlines plotted against him, of course. Don’t get me wrong. But they knew they’d never be able to topple Gregor from his throne. But now—” He shrugs. “Now, his legacy is dead. His future is finished. He could live another thousand years and never sire another heir. It’s over.” He draws his thumb across his throat.
“But you just said Valen is also his son, right?”
“From a human mother.” His mouth twists with distaste.
“Oh.” I feign understanding.
“Don’t get me wrong. Valen is my master. He’s going to give me eternal life. I’ll be part of his Blood. A Dragonis. A powerful one.”
“He promised you that?”
He shrugs. “He doesn’t have to. I’ve been here for months. He and Melody have been drinking from me exclusively.” He puffs out his chest. “I’m all they need. You’re extra, and from what I’ve seen, you’re also extra useless.”
“Because I’m not volunteering my blood for them?”
“Has he fed from you?” he asks, the question propelled with enough force for me to realize he’d been wanting to ask it from the start.
“Um—” I think back to what he did to me at the top of the stairs. He didn’t drink my blood. Quite the opposite. “No.”
He lets out a small sigh of relief. “Good.”