Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
brIANNA
“ Y ou look lovely. Green is a good color on you.” Peter presses a chaste kiss to my cheek, and I clasp my hands tightly behind my back to stop myself from shoving him off me and slapping him.
I bite back the urge to correct him on the color, since the dress I’m wearing is far more of a teal. His touch burns almost like acid on my skin. Lingering. It takes every ounce of will power to not scrub him away. I worry Declan will be able to smell him on me too. The sooner I can get this night over with, the sooner I can get down to Declan.
“We’re so glad you could join us for another dinner.” Papa smiles widely, looking more like a great white shark than a loving father or brilliant businessman. “Brianna has hardly stopped talking about you, Peter.”
It doesn’t matter that it’s a lie.
“Peter’s been quite the same.” Mrs. Lee fusses over her son, combing his fair with her fingers, and fidgeting with his suit. “That is, other than a bout of sickness that he had to fight off a couple weeks ago. I do hope Brianna hasn’t suffered anything similar?”
Mrs. Lee’s concern seems genuine, even though Peter’s scowl makes me question whether he was truly sick, or if something more nefarious happened.
“Not at all.” Even if I’d been sick, there’s no way I’m announcing it to anyone. Even though all day I’ve been getting waves of nausea. Probably just due to the stress of this evening and excitement to see Declan finally. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel well.” I bat my eyelashes as cartoony as I can manage, though it fools them all still.
Peter waves me off and bats at his mother so she’ll leave him alone. “I’m fine now.” He keeps watching me, his eyes trained on me with every move I make, no matter how imperceptible I am, after training myself for years to fly under my father’s radar.
It feels entirely too close to how a predator looks stalking its prey. Declan is a dragon and I’ve never been prey to him, but Peter is a predator. I learned a lot over the years watching my father, endless wildlife documentaries that my father thought were more appropriate than cartoons. And Peter is just like my father. Maybe not as evil yet, but he wants to be. Or maybe even something worse.
Something occurs to me.
He didn’t make me feel like this the last time he was here, and I have no idea what’s changed or why, I’m pretty sure it has something to do with this mysterious sickness he suffered.
Declan, can humans be turned into anything…inhuman?
Papa ushers us into the formal dining room, and once again I’m expected to sit next to Peter. I want to run away. I want to run down to Declan and free him so we can get away from here forever. I want to stab a fork in his eye to keep him from looking at me like I’m an ice cream cone.
What do you mean, princess? Is something wrong? The concern filling my mind is nearly debilitating, overwhelming, and I grab the back of my chair tightly to try to push some of Declan’s emotions back again before I crumple from the weight of them.
Nothing’s wrong. I’ll tell you later. I’m sure I’m imagining it. If my father likes this guy, he could’ve always felt heartless, and I just didn’t realize until I met you. I try to project an air of calm, of love, of the level of care I have for him, to keep him from worrying any more than he already seems to be. It could also just be that I want any excuse for this dinner to be over, so that I can show you the new underwear I got. My friend, Ellie, assures me they should make you…excited.
While I get settled at the table and take a deep drink from my water glass, I fight the urge to physically or verbally react to the low, rumbling growl echoing through my mind.
“Are you all right, Brianna? You look flushed.” Mrs. Lee’s concern is now directed at me, her perfectly sculpted eyebrows furrowed toward me.
I take another sip of water, trying to block out Declan from my mind so I can get myself under control. “I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”
Maybe opening up this connection with Declan at the dinner table wasn’t such a smart idea.
Peter’s eyes are on me still and his mouth curves into a malicious smirk. “I could walk you upstairs, if you’re not feeling well.”
“No, thank you. I’m really okay.” I run through all the cliche things I’ve heard in books and movies to try to tamp down desire, but cold showers and baseball aren’t doing a damned thing next to the rush of not only my arousal, but Declan’s feelings and arousal pumping through my body as if he’s right next to me, touching me, kissing me, whispering all the dirty things he says when we’re together.
And then he starts to project images into my head.
Declan!
What? You don’t like seeing what you look like when you come for me?
I can hear the mirth in his voice, and all I want to do is stomp down there and wipe that smile off his face.
Or put that mouth to better use.
I don’t like being so turned on I can barely focus, when I have to have dinner with my father and his idea of a suitable mate.
I think the word before I really realize the impact it could have on Declan, and the roar that echoes through my head…
Isn’t just in my head.
Peter’s head jerks to the direction where Declan is underneath us. “What was that?”
Only because I know my father so well, I can tell that he’s annoyed and he knows exactly what that was, but he gives a polite smile and says, “My son must be watching the news. These reports about shifters are getting to be a constant occurrence.” Papa lies smoothly as he stands and re-buttons his suit jacket. “I’ll just go make sure he keeps it down.”
Declan, you need to calm down. You can’t do that again.
Mine. My mate.
His voice in my head sounds disjointed, like he’s fighting to keep control of his dragon.
He probably is. I never should’ve thought the word “mate”.
I am. All yours.
My stomach’s in knots as his thoughts get more and more possessive, until he’s not even giving me words. Just emotion, just rage.
Declan, please. Come back to me. Calm down. There’s no way I’m ever going to let this guy have even a tiny piece of my heart. He couldn’t have any of it. It’s all yours.
The thoughts, the images, the emotions all stop suddenly. Like the connection we have just got forcibly severed.
Declan?
All through dinner, all through Peter trying to talk to me, to engage me in conversation, I keep trying to reach him, a persistent, unanswered call.
Over and over, I think and call his name. Over and over, my thoughts get met with silence.
“Thank you for another lovely evening, Mr. Shirakita.” Mrs. Lee is practically fawning over my father as we stand from the table.
“It doesn’t have to end yet.” Peter looks me up and down before turning to my father. “I’d love a few quiet minutes with your daughter, if you don’t mind. We could take a walk around the grounds, soak in the night air.”
“Of course. Why don’t we head into the parlor for an after-dinner drink, let these two get to know each other a little better?” Papa shoots me a stern look, one that I’ve seen often enough to know I can’t argue with. At least not in front of company.
I don’t want to walk with Peter, though. I don’t want anything more to do with this guy.
His hand presses against my lower back, persistently adding pressure until I have to take a step forward or risk him trying to go straight through my spine. He escorts me toward the door just past the kitchen that leads out to the courtyard. The air is brisk with a touch of a cool breeze. The feel of Peter’s hand seems to get colder as we stroll down the path taking us deep into the labyrinth of tall bushes and flower beds.
Each step I take feels like a betrayal to Declan. Why isn’t he answering me? What happened after that roar?
More than the sinking feeling something is wrong with Declan, is the edge of fear around my anxiety. I don’t like the switch in Peter and being led out into the dark with him seems like an increasingly bad idea. Not that I had much choice in the matter.
“You’ve been distracted all night.” Pet’s voice is low and full of mirth. “Don’t worry, I’m not interested in a romantic relationship with you any more than you are with me.”
I shiver. He reminds me more of my father with every passing second, only if possible, worse. Same ramrod straight back, same derisive sneer etched on his face, same power-hungry glint in his eye.
No, that might be hunger of another variety.
I watch him warily as he continues to herd me through the garden. I’ve never seen a look so predatory, so dangerous, in real life.
“What do you want, then?” I try to move away from him, to gain some space, but his fingers tighten, holding me against his side.
“Nothing, yet. I’m glad to see that my coming here tonight won’t be a complete waste, though. Your father thinks he’s a big name in politics, as if he could actually help me reach my goals, but he’s small time. An ambassador from a country hardly anyone’s heard of, relegated to the U.S. like it’s some big honor.” He rolls his eyes at me.
In the moonlight, his teeth glint, and I notice the sharp, elongated canines. His features are gaunter, his cheeks sunken in. His eyes are like the dark hollows of a skull only there’s a glint, like an animal’s reflecting in the white light.
“It doesn’t matter, though.” He turns away from me and lets me go, like he’s lost in his own thoughts. “Getting close to him means keeping an eye on the animals he keeps locked away and gathering more contacts and maybe even collecting his daughter as a plaything. Even if his daughter is playing whore to a beast. Grey will be quite pleased with this development.”
No. No, no, no. How could he possibly know about Declan and the others? How could he know about me, about my connection with Declan? And who the hell is Grey?
Declan ? I reach out again, even more desperate to hear from him.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Brianna.” He pats me on the head like I’m a dog, or a little girl in need of praise. “I won’t tell Daddy all about what you’ve been up to. In fact, I think you should keep seeing the dragon. Keep visiting him in the basement, keep spreading your whore legs for him. This could be a beneficial relationship for both of us after all.” Peter smirks at me again, before breaking into a full smile that can’t hide his teeth. His fangs. The dead look in his eyes has an empty hunger inside of them.
The only word that comes to mind is preposterous.
Vampire.
Though, is it so strange? So impossible? I’m sleeping with a dragon shifter. I know there are other kinds of shifters, fae, witches. But vampires? What else is in this world? What else lurks in the shadows that I know nothing about?
As a blur of questions ride through my thoughts, I hold onto another thing he said. Why would my seeing Declan mean anything good for Peter Lee or this Grey?
Peter plucks a flower from one of the bushes in the garden. He cups my chin, and I yank out of his reach. He smirks like he’s enjoying a game and grabs my wrist with lightning speed movement and yanks me toward him. I slam into his chest with my hand out and pushing at his solid torso trying to keep him at bay. I’m done being the doting little princess for my father. I don’t want to be near this guy, not anymore. He holds my head in his hand, his eyes trained on mine, capturing my attention. He tucks the flower he plucked behind my ear.
I want to turn away from him, look away, run away, but I can’t. I just stare back up at him. Waiting. I don’t know exactly what I’m expecting, so I wait for him to speak.
Finally, as his thumb strokes my cheek, he says, “When your father asks, you’re entirely smitten with me, and you want to see me again in a couple weeks.”
His words feel like ice water, tracing their way down my spine, and I want to refuse. I want to break free from his grip, from his gaze. The frigid command buries itself into my brain like a shard of glass slowly sinking in.
I can’t find my voice. My whole body feels like I’ve turned to stone in this garden. The ice of his command melts into my mind and then he releases me.
I take a couple frantic steps backwards, my wobbly legs losing their footing, the stupid heels I’m wearing causing extra stability issues, I nearly wipe out, just barely catching myself before falling backward into a bush.
My lungs burn and I let out a gasp and then immediately suck air back in, like I forgot to breathe the entire time he held me.
“Now then, let’s go inside and you can sneak off like you’ve wanted to all night.” He follows me as I try and escape back to the house. “You know what they did to your dragon, right?”
I pause and turn back to him. “What did they do to him?” It’s the first time I’ve confirmed anything he’s said, but I don’t care.
“No matter. You’ll go upstairs when I leave, take a hot shower, scrub all that makeup off your face, and by the time you go down to your dragon, you’ll have forgotten all about any concerns you had about me. You’ll forget there was any reason you might’ve felt fear tonight.”
There’s that icy feeling crawling down my spine again. It feels like I won’t ever get warm, and suddenly a hot shower feels like exactly what I need.
As he leads me back into the house, back to the parlor where my father awaits, I’m certain there’s something very wrong, something I’ve forgotten, something I should remember.
“Ah, here’s the lovely young couple.” Mrs. Lee claps her hands together, smiling widely.
“We should go now, Mama. I think we’ve imposed on the Shirakitas long enough tonight.” Peter kisses my cheek.
Even though I hate it, even though I want to push him away, I feel my cheeks start to flush. “Thank you for the walk, Peter.”
As soon as they step outside and the door clicks shut, Papa’s eyes turn to me, searching for any sign that I might’ve embarrassed the family name. “Well?”
“I like him, Papa. I’d really like to see him again soon. Maybe in a couple weeks?” I smile, and my face feels at odds with everything else in my head. Like someone else has control of my facial muscles.
His eyes narrow to slits. “You really like him?”
“So much. He’s…” I sigh. An actual, wistful sigh. “I think he could be the one.”
What am I saying? What is wrong with me?
I lean against the banister and bite my lower lip, staring at the door like I want Peter to come back. Like the words coming out of my mouth are truth.
“I’ll set something up. Maybe the two of you should take a car, go out to a proper restaurant next time.”
“Thank you, Papa.” I almost feel like I want to hug him, and I know that can’t be real. I know better than to think we would ever embrace.
Instead, I head upstairs and go straight to the shower, turning it on as hot as I can stand.