Bittersweet Blood (The Order #1)

Tara woke up in her old bed. Snow was falling again, swirling against the glass, obscuring the outside world. Chloe hadn’t been far wrong—perhaps the snow would strand them together, cut off from everything. It should have sounded romantic, until she remembered the speed he’d shut the door in her face the previous evening.

Talk about mixed signals—first the kisses, then the brush off.

She should have left it when he’d told her he always slept alone, but no, she’d pushed. She hated it, really hated it, when people said they were doing something for “your own good.” Her aunt had used the phrase all the time. Tara was quite capable of making up her own mind. If he didn’t want her after all, she’d rather he came right out and said it.

Yesterday, she’d decided to keep the relationship with Christian on a strict business footing. Now, after a few kisses, she was miffed because he’d insisted on sleeping in the cellar alone. Not that she wanted to sleep in the cellar. The place was nothing but a dark hole under the ground—it should fit Christian to perfection.

After showering and dressing in warm clothes, she went outside to decide what she was going to do. She left the gardens by a small gate that opened onto the moors, but stayed close to the house. Having grown up around here, she knew how little it took for the weather to turn hazardous. Instead, she headed toward a former haven—a huge rocky outcrop that overlooked the village below.

Standing on the edge, she surveyed the picture-pretty village. There was a pub, and a café, a post office, none of which she’d ever entered. How many days had she lain on this rock gazing down and dreaming of a normal life?

It was strange coming back here. She’d built it up to be terrible, but she’d had a happy childhood. For a dead woman, Aunt Kathy had been amazingly kind.

What else was she going to find out about herself? Had her mother, whoever she was, gotten mixed up in the supernatural world and tried to protect her daughter? And who was her father?

She remembered Christian’s expression when she took the talisman off last time: Shock and fear. Would it be any better the next? It made no difference. She would remove the talisman and break Rule Number Three. But she’d persuade Christian to take her to the pub. They could have a drink together—a drink with normal people.

Well—normal people and a vampire.

…

“You want to go to the pub?” Christian stared at her as if she was a crazy woman, as if she’d asked for something weird.

“It’s what normal people do.”

“It may have escaped your notice, but I am not a normal person.”

Once again, he was dressed in black, all six-foot-four of him. She doubted that the villagers of Shelby had ever come across anyone quite like him before, but she didn’t want to go alone. “You can pretend, can’t you?”

“You want to have a drink?”

“No, I don’t want to have a drink, but that’s not the point. I’ve never been to the pub in Shelby, or the café, or even the post office. I don’t know what’s going to happen when I take off the talisman, but I have a feeling it isn’t going to be any kind of normal. So first, I’d like you to take me to the pub, and we can both pretend for a couple of hours.”

“Are you asking me on a date?” His eyes settled on her mouth. He was going to kiss her, she was sure of it, and small flames flickered to life in her belly. “Will I get a goodnight kiss at the end of it?”

Tara swayed toward him until he was so close she could see the black circle around his silver eyes.

He stepped back and shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

Disappointment tore through her, and it took her a moment to realize he’d agreed. “Right, I’ll go get changed.”

Christian raised an eyebrow. “Will I need to change?”

“No,” she said, looking him up and down. “You’re perfect as you are.”

…

They drove down into the village and parked outside The Coachman’s Arms. As they stepped into the pub, all faces turned to stare at them. Perhaps it would have been a good idea for Christian to change his clothes after all, though Tara doubted he possessed anything that would blend in with this particular setting. With his tall, broad figure and the black leather trench coat, he appeared exotic and a little dangerous. In fact, he stood out like a panther at a garden party. He couldn’t even take the coat off as she had seen what was underneath.