Bittersweet Blood (The Order #1)

“You took off the talisman and a day later strangers appear here asking questions. Do you think the two things are unrelated? And do you think they’ve stopped searching?”


“Yes, but I did take it off. They came, they couldn’t find me, and it’s been months. If I keep it on, maybe they’ll never find me.”

“What happened to breaking all the rules?”

She ignored the comment. “Or I could stay here. You said yourself the house is safe.”

“So, now you plan to shut yourself up in the one place you’ve spent your life trying to escape from.”

Her anger flared again. “I don’t want to be a monster.”

His eyes went blank, his mouth twisted into a snarl, giving the brief flash of fang. “You mean, a monster like me? So you don’t like monsters? You seemed to like me well enough when I was inside you. Are you regretting that?”

Heat flushed her skin at the reminder of what they had done together. Her chest tightened. “I don’t regret it.” She reached out a hand to him. “I don’t know what to do. All I understand is that this changes everything.”

“Actually,” Christian said, “it changes nothing. You have always been what you are. The only difference is now you know.” He picked up her case. “We need to leave.”

…

Half an hour into the journey, Christian finally managed to unclench his fingers from their grip on the steering wheel. He rolled his shoulders to ease the tension, opened his mouth, then closed it again as he realized he had no clue what to say. His original anger had faded to something less easy to identify.

He’d thought he knew how she would react to the news that she wasn’t entirely human. He’d thought she would be upset, but he hadn’t thought she would try to pretend the whole thing didn’t exist, including him.

He realized something else—since he’d found out she wasn’t human, he’d started to believe there could be a future for them together.

He could never have a long-term relationship with a human. They became puppets, slaves as he took away their free will. Some, like Graham, accepted this and believed the advantages outweighed what they lost, but he would never want that with Tara. He would have left her before it came to that.

Tonight, she proved that he could not control her mind. If she stayed with him, it would be because she wanted to, not because she couldn’t leave him.

Unfortunately, it looked as though she didn’t want to stay with him. He was a “monster,” and a constant reminder that she was a monster as well. She’d no doubt prefer to pretend he didn’t exist along with the rest of the truths that didn’t fit with her neat little ideas of a normal life.

His hands tightened on the wheel again. He decided he was angry after all. Angry and hurt. And underneath that, he wanted her again, desired her blood and her body. As they got nearer their destination, he realized he didn’t want to let her go, didn’t want to leave her.

But he wasn’t being fair. The revelation must have been an incredible shock and Tara needed time to think it through.

He would give her that time, but she also needed to be aware that this was far from over. He would leave her tonight with the same ache in her body he felt. He would make her remember how good it had been and trust she would come to him of her own free will.

She wasn’t immune to him. She stared out of the window, but he could feel her sidelong glances every few miles.

He’d wait. But if she didn’t come to him, he’d go and get her. He wasn’t letting her go. She’d been warned, and now she was his.

…

They were silent on the way back to London. She was aware of Christian beside her, angry with her, radiating a freezing iciness that sliced at her heart.

She’d hurt him, and hadn’t considered that possible. She hadn’t thought about what would happen between them after they made love. A relationship with a vampire hardly fit into her idea for the future. Had she imagined she could sleep with Christian and just walk away, get on with her life?

She could still feel the slight ache in her body where he had filled her so completely, the slight ache in her throat where he’d drank from her. Without thinking, she touched the scar at her neck. Then jumped as Christian spoke.

“It should heal within twenty-four hours. You won’t even know I was there.”

She glanced across at him, but he’d already turned his attention back to the road. His expression was closed, his hands grasped tight on the wheel. She stared out of the side window. They had left the motorway and were entering the city. She would be home soon. Then what?

She’d told him she needed time alone to think this through. Now, at the thought of him leaving, a flash of pain ripped through her. But he couldn’t stay; in less than an hour the sun would rise, and Christian needed to be back in his basement away from the light of day.