46. Chapter Forty-Six - Desiree
Much to my disappointment, we return to Wilder’s loft.
The elevator ride to 2B is a suffocating journey, with the confined space amplifying the unspoken words between Vane and me.
With Vane’s blood coursing through my veins, I’m painfully aware of his proximity.
Every inhale sends goose bumps racing across my skin, and every exhale draws a silent whimper from my throat.
Thank fuck Vyvyan was unconscious after I fed her my blood.
I’m shaking with need.
I flick on the loft’s lights and storm straight to the bathroom.
Though the torn skin on my face has knitted together, the blood remains.
I grab a towel and wet it, the cool water a welcome relief as I clean the caked blood from my skin.
Once I get most of it off, I return to the living room to deal with Vane.
Why the fuck did he bring me here instead of the Nest?
Dropping onto the couch, I wince as the cushions press against my formerly tattered body.
The metallic scent of blood fills my nostrils as I peel off my torn shirt.
The fabric clings to my healed wounds, but it doesn’t stop me from tossing it aside.
In just my bra and jeans, I swipe at the dried blood on my chest and stomach.
I’m positive my back is a web of scratches and bruises.
Vane stands stiffly near the window, his silhouette outlined by the few city lights working in this area of town.
When he turns to face me, his eyes roam over my exposed skin, lingering on my curves.
A flush creeps up my neck.
What does he see when he looks at me now?
He’s given me his blood, completing half the bond.
We already had a connection due to him siring me, but now that he’s given me his blood, I am overly aware of him.
The difference is that the sire bond doesn’t amplify attraction, unlike the blood bond.
With his blood coursing through my veins, the desire to erase the distance between us is paramount above all else.
His hands clench and unclench at his sides.
Is he angry or having trouble keeping himself from touching me?
When I gave my blood to Vyvyan, she wasn’t a vampire long enough to experience the full effects of the blood bond before my blood turned her human.
But now, I can sense the powerful connection that Vane’s blood has forged between us.
It’s a sensation I’ve never felt, both exhilarating and terrifying.
Is this what Vyvyan would have felt if my blood weren’t poison?
I choke on a laugh.
She would have hated that.
“Let me help you.” Vane stalks toward me.
I freeze in place.
He takes the towel from my hand, and when his fingers brush against mine, a jolt of electricity rips through my body.
He kneels before me as he did before my date with Jaxson to help with my shoes, his eyes never leaving mine as he wipes blood from my skin, his touch surprisingly gentle.
I’m so used to his callousness that I close my eyes, losing myself in how his fingers brush over my skin, leaving fire trails in their wake.
I bite my lip, stifling a sigh, as he works his way up my arms, across my collarbone, and down my chest.
It’s not real—this behavior toward me, this kindness.
He might have given me his blood, but only because, as my sire, my pain must’ve felt visceral to him.
Soon, the effects will wear off, and the maddening need to touch and be touched will dissipate, or at least, I pray it will.
Vane doesn’t care about me; he only cares about Vyvyan and himself.
“Vane,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over my pounding heart.
He looks up at me, his eyes brimming with desire, and I know in that moment that I’m lost.
I’ll never be able to resist him, no matter how hard I try.
Not anymore.
I stifle a dark laugh.
Was his intention to ruin me for anyone else?
“I’m confused,” I say, taking the towel.
I can’t think with his hands on me.
“About?” Vane replies, still on his knees.
“Why did you save me?” I ask.
“I’m your sire.”
I blink.
“So?”
“When a vampire turns another vampire, a bond forms between them,” Vane explains.
“The longer two vampires spend in one another’s company, the stronger the bond becomes. It’s why you always want to be near me, even when you don’t. As your sire, I have a unique connection to you. I can sense your presence and your emotions, even from a distance. It’s like an invisible thread ties us together. I felt a disturbance in that connection tonight, a sense of danger and distress emanating from you. It was as if you were leaving a trail of breadcrumbs to follow, guiding me to where you were. That’s how I knew you were in trouble and how I was able to find you.”
“And what about now?” I ask.
“Do you feel it, too? This . . . pull between us? Is it the sire bond or the blood?”
He’s silent as he studies me.
There’s conflict in his eyes.
“Both,” he admits.
“I feel the pull. But that’s nothing new. I feel the desire to be with you. To touch you. Every. Damn. day. The blood only demands I do something about it.”
I gasp.
Is this why he can’t seem to leave me alone?
Now that he’s given me his blood, will his proximity get worse?
If it does, will we spend eternity in agony?
Vyvyan doesn’t want us near each other.
I’ve done a good job at keeping my distance, but that was before.
A humorless laugh escapes my lips.
“Why not let the Balam finish me off? It would have saved you the torture of being near me when I returned home.”
Vane interlaces his fingers in his lap.
“But that’s the thing, Desiree. You’re not returning home. The Nest isn’t safe for you.”
My eyes narrow.
“Excuse me? You don’t get to make that decision for me. You’re not Vyvyan. I didn’t force you to heal me. You offered. So, face the consequences of your actions.”
I pause, waiting for him to respond, but he remains unreadable.
Daemon blood mats his white-blond hair, causing it to stick up in various directions.
“You and Vyvyan have nothing to worry about. Your blood flows through my veins, but I will keep my distance if you do. We’ve done it before. We can do it again.”
Vane groans.
“Desiree, please, just let this go.”
I grit my teeth.
Let this go?
He made me this way.
“No. I’m going home! I’m a vampire. It’s where I belong.”
Vane’s gaze darts around the apartment.
“Why can’t this be your home?”
A tingling sensation spreads through my chest.
I’m not taking in enough oxygen.
“This is Wilder’s home. Not mine.”
Vane groans.
“I’m sure if you wanted it, he’d?—”
“Why are you doing this? What did I do to make you hate me so much?” I demand.
My whole life has been a cycle of rejection and heartbreak.
No matter how hard I try, how kind, smart, or confident I am, no one seems to like me.
No one except Jaxson, and now he’s gone.
People only ever want to use me, or hurt me, just like Vane.
He gave me his blood to make me yearn for him, to exert one more ounce of control over me.
It’s a calculated move, designed to manipulate my emotions and bend me to his will.
But if I bend anymore, I’ll break.
Vane’s eyes widen.
“Hate you? Desiree, I don’t hate you.”
“Then why push all my buttons?” I yell.
“Why keep me at arm’s-length, only to swoop in and save me when I’m at my lowest? Why keep me from the one place I am truly meant to be?”
He leans closer, reaching out as if to console me, but then hesitates, letting his hand fall back to his side.
“Because I’m afraid, Desiree.”
I scoff.
“What . . . are you afraid of me?”
He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.
“Yes.”
The air leaves my lungs.
“Why?”
“I have a strict set of rules I follow, and you manage to break every single one.”
Vane’s hands claw his knees, and he’s beside me on the couch in the blink of an eye.
He’s so close I can smell the daemon blood mixed with his sultry scent.
I should be disgusted, but I find myself inhaling deeper.
“There’s something you should know. Something I’ve kept secret.”
I wait, but he doesn’t go on.
A dull ache spreads.
“Vane, quit mess?—”
His mouth crashes against mine, tearing a whimper from my throat.
Time freezes and so do I.
I’m too shocked to respond, until his tongue brushes against lips, seeking entrance, demanding submission.
My heart whispers a warning.
But I cave, parting my lips, allowing him entrance.
Tears prick my eyes as our tongues tangle in a sensual dance.
His taste is as intoxicating as I remember, a heady elixir that makes my head spin and my soul sing.
The blood bond makes him act this way, and my traitorous heart wants to pretend it means more than it does.
Whatever.
I’ll enjoy it before I let myself regret it.
I crawl into his lap, straddling him.
My thighs tighten around his hips, my core pressing against his growing hardness.
The need to be closer consumes me.
Vane crushes my body against his, his hands roaming over my hips and waist.
My starved body blossoms for his touch.
I roll my hips, causing us both to groan.
“Faster,” Vane begs.
“ Please. ”
I continue my slow, taunting movements.
He doesn’t deserve to get what he wants.
But the second Vane’s teeth brush against my neck, against his mark, a white-hot fire ignites within me, burning away my anger, leaving only a raw, pulsing need.
No, my mind screams, even as my body arches toward him, betraying my resolve.
“Vane,” I breathe, the name a prayer on my lips, a confession of my weakness.
“I’ve fantasized about this for so damn long,” Vane whispers with his hands on my breasts.
“Every time I saw you, all those tight little dresses you wear and that barbed tongue of yours?—”
I lick his throat, nibbling and sucking, as a groan rumbling from deep within him as I mark him.
He hurt me.
The thought flickers, a dying ember in the inferno of sensation.
We’re chest to chest, the friction of my clit against the hardness in his pants building, building.
He betrayed me.
But the words are meaningless now, lost in the rising tide of pleasure.
He .
.
.
I can’t even remember what I was going to think.
All I can feel is him .
“Unbutton your shirt,” I demand, fumbling with the buttons.
Impatience gets the better of me.
I tear the fabric open, revealing his beautiful chest.
“I liked that shirt,” Vane pouts.
“Boohoo.” I circle my tongue around his nipple, the inferno between my legs burning brighter with each swipe.
I grind against him harder, needing, craving the friction.
The thought of being naked, skin against skin, sends a molten rush through my entire body.
He sighs happily.
“Take me,” I whisper against his skin.
“Now.”
I’ve had a hell of a night, and the heat of his body, the way he’s looking at me, the barely contained hunger in his eyes, is sending me spiraling.
His desire wraps around me, tight as a coil, and my own mirrors it, escalating until it’s the only thing I can feel.
At this moment, sex is the only answer, the only language I can understand.
If I don’t have him now, I might just explode.
I reach for my bra, but Vane’s hands are already there.
The straps fall away, and I pull the confining fabric off, gasping at the sudden freedom.
His gaze burns into me, and his hands are on me instantly.
“Exquisite.” With one hand kneading my flesh, his other hand unbuttons my jeans, and dips inside my panties.
He finds my wetness, then moans low in his throat.
I’m on fire.
I haven’t burned this hot since the last time he took me to his bed.
A flash of memory.
Hurt.
Anger.
Then his fingers on my clit.
Pleasure.
So much pleasure.
I forget.
I surrender.
My breath catches.
His fingers .
.
.
Gods, his fingers.
“I crave you like this,” Vane murmurs.
“At my mercy.”
Just as I’m about to beg for release, Vane whispers, “I love you.”
My heart stops.
What am I doing?
This is the same man who cast me aside without a second thought.
The same man who chose Vyvyan over me every time.
“No.” The heat, the urgency, the desperate hunger—all vanish, leaving a chilling emptiness in their wake.
Vane lifts a dark brow.
“No?”
“I’m not falling for this again. Stop messing with my head!”
How could I be so stupid?
I am letting him touch me, letting him get under my skin.
Again.
Mortification engulfs me.
I retreat, arms crossed, longing for the shield of clothing.
Idiot.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” Vane says as I rise off him.
He reaches for me, fingers trembling.
“Desi, please. Believe me.”
I grab a blanket.
“Believe you? How can I when all you do is hurt me?”
“What about tonight?”
I laugh.
“Tonight meant nothing.”
I lift my chin, wrapping the blanket around me like armor.
Vane’s chest rises and falls.
His hands clench into fists.
“If that’s how you feel, then I will see myself out.”
“I hope the door hits you.”
Hurt flashes across Vane’s face.
“Goodbye, Desiree. You won’t see me again.”
My heart lurches painfully in my chest, and for a split second, I consider reaching for him.
But I force my hands to stay at my sides.
A voice screams in my head to stop him, but pride locks the words in my throat.
Without a second glance, he walks out the door.
I stand there, stunned, his words echoing in my mind.
He would probably love never seeing me again, especially after I just drank his blood.
But too bad for him, I’ll see him at the Nest tomorrow.
After what the Balam said, I’m pretty sure I know who attacked Vyvyan.