"Sleep," he soothed.
What he'd done was unimaginable, unthinkable. He'd broken laws he was sworn to uphold under penalty of exile, or worse, death. And executing a vampire wasn't as simple or as neat as killing a person. It involved a great deal of pain, and a lot of fanfare designed only to serve the power of the Vampire Council. Punishing a blood traitor was always an event. Punishing Christian Devereux would be a spectacle.
He didn't care. All he knew was what he felt, and Christian had lived long enough to know that what he felt wasn't just fleeting. It was something far more. Despite the risks, everything inside him knew that letting this girl go would be a mistake.
Stay with me, Victoria, he thought, unable to voice the words.
"I will," she said sleepily, squeezing his fingers.
VICTORIA AWOKE PANIC-stricken. It was dark as night but she could feel that she was in a bed, and her hands flew to her throat as she dizzily recalled pieces of the previous night and snatches of broken conversation. She remembered that she had been at Christian's but she didn't remember falling asleep in his bed!
She sat up appalled, and groped blindly for a light switch. Her fingertips felt something on the wall near the headboard and pressed it. A whirring noise was followed by a crack of bright white light peeking through the nearest bedroom window. The electronic shutters rose slowly then stopped. It was enough to illuminate the room. She blinked against the daylight and squinted around the room.
It was beautiful, like everything else in the house, with subtle masculine touches of dark wood and elegant style. A large armchair and ottoman sat in one corner, but the massive four-poster bed on which she was sitting dominated the room. A clock on the wall above an elaborate dresser said that it was ten o'clock.
Saving what would undoubtedly be the best for last, Victoria turned her attention to the boy lying next to her on the bed and appeased her blossoming curiosity. He looked so peaceful. She leaned in slowly—he didn't even look like he was breathing!
He was sleeping on his stomach, one arm up around his head, on top of the duvet. Smiling at his propriety, her eyes roved over the angular planes and long hollows of his back disappearing into the waistband of black silk pajama pants. An intricate tattoo that looked like a rope of intertwined silvery-black letters meandered from the base of his skull all the way down his back. It was in a language that she didn't recognize.
Victoria longed to touch the expanse of smooth porcelain skin and she gave in to the temptation, running her fingertips across his shoulders and down the line of the silvery writing. He didn't move. His skin felt smooth and hard like it was stretched taut over granite; the muscles didn't even jump reflexively at her soft caress.
"Christian," she whispered. He didn't move. "Christian, are you awake?" she said more loudly. Nothing. It was as if he were dead. Victoria laughed to herself, given what he actually was, that was understandable. She leaned closer and moved her lips to his ear, one hand pressing down onto his right shoulder blade to support herself.
In the space of half a second, Victoria found herself flipped roughly onto her back, a snarling face inches from her own. He had her arms pinned to her side and she stared in horror at the familiar face she could barely recognize. His eyes were slits, his face twisted in a ferocious grimace, and his teeth! Long, white and deadly. She felt the amulet blaze.
"Christian!" she said, her throat thick with terror. "Stop it. Stop IT!"
He was somewhere else. She shouldn't have touched him, she realized too late, and now he was milliseconds away from her throat. Even in its transformation, his face was savagely beautiful. Despite her shock, she felt an unfamiliar warmth settle in her chest.
Victoria had two choices: the first was to hurl him away but she knew that his death grip on her arms meant that she could go flying with him; the second was to teleport herself to another place in the room.
Calling on her power, she felt the magic begin to flow in her veins as she focused her energy. If only she had more experience with teleporting! She fought her rising panic and the spell faltered. As she felt his hot breath on her face, Victoria knew she had no choice.
"Transeo!" she shouted.