Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Samantha
It’s quiet. The only sound is my own breathing. I blink several times and slowly lift my hand in front of my face, but it’s pitch black. The air is fresh and cool, and I breathe in deeply. Is it still night? The pain is gone and carefully, I stretch. My stomach grumbles.
“Thirsty? Hungry?” Rafael asks.
I don’t jump or shriek, but I do wish my head would keep up. I’m still at his place and he did mention something about having a dark room.
“Maybe,” I reply after a moment, unsure of how my stomach will actually handle anything.
“How are you feeling?”
Like I got run over by a truck repeatedly. “Fine.”
“Don’t lie to me, Samantha.” He really has some fixation on repeating my name.
“Better than before,” I amend.
“The bar for that statement is not very high.”
I’m too tired to argue, so I push the blanket aside and slowly sit up.
Goose bumps litter my skin, but the cold also wakes me up more.
Carefully, I get up and test if my legs will hold.
Once I’m confident that I won’t fall on my face after the first step, I turn to look roughly in the direction where Rafael’s voice came from.
“Point me in the direction of the bathroom.”
“I’ll take you there.” He’s already up and beside me, and I have more trouble than usual keeping up with him.
Not that I can keep up with his movements on the best of days, but now, in the dark, it feels more like teleportation than actual movement.
Who knows, maybe he really can teleport.
I’m not an expert in all things vampiric.
“I can walk.”
“It’s dark down here. I’ll carry you.”
“Take it easy,” I warn him. I don’t need to get motion sickness too.
He takes my words seriously, and his hands glide over my body slowly before he lifts me up like I might break. I don’t even feel the movement when he walks and he keeps my head steady against his shoulder when he opens the door. I assume it’s a door anyway. It’s still too dark to see a thing.
“Next corridor has more light,” he says and I close my eyes. Gradually, the light behind my lids gets brighter and by the time my eyes adjust enough that I can open them, we are in the bathroom.
“You can put me down now.”
Carefully, he does and makes sure I’m steady on my feet.
Then he hands me my purse and heads out.
I take in the scarecrow staring back at me from the mirror and can’t blame him for bolting.
Thank heavens my hair is short, so even when it is flat on one side and sticks out on the other, it’s still better than the rat’s nest that I used to have with long hair.
My eyes are swollen and red, and the faded blue looks gray.
There are light marks on my body from earlier, reminders of the fun I had before the crash.
I trace a finger down the line of small hickeys on my throat.
My breasts hold a couple faint ones too and small marks from his fingers are on my hips.
The dress still lies on the floor and I pick it up.
It’s wrinkled, smelly, and I have nothing else to put on, so there is no point showering first. I tug it over my head, pick up my heels and purse, and head out.
Rafael walks out of the bedroom at the same time, dressed in dark blue jeans and a white T-shirt.
No man should look so good in a T-shirt.
“Ready to go?” he asks and I nod. I would kick myself out too. “Let’s go then.” He picks up the car keys.
“You don’t have to drive me. I can call a cab.”
“Not an option.” He walks to the door and waits for me. I step into my heels and strap them on. My feet groan in vicious protest. I’ll get home faster with him driving, so why fight it.
I sink into the leather seat and focus on keeping my breathing even and nausea at bay. It’s a nice car, one that I would love to take out on the highway in the middle of the night. The car windows are tinted and I wonder if that allows him to be outside during sunlight.
“Are you sure you’re good to drive me? It’s getting bright,” I ask.
Rafael pulls on sunglasses and maneuvers into the morning traffic with ease as he replies, “I’m not a young vampire, Samantha. You know that already.”
“That’s not an answer,” I reply and let my eyes shut when the sun hits them. I wish I had sunglasses too.
“Sunlight is an inconvenience. Think of it as an allergy. Some people have stronger reactions than others. I’ve had a long time to build up tolerance and I’ve done it with purpose.”
“Oh.” The drive is silent after that, since his tone is strained and I don’t want to pry anymore.
Miraculously, he finds a parking space right in front of my apartment and it’s only then that I realize I didn’t tell him my address.
We’ve never been to my home. I’ve refused to see him anywhere else but the Lair.
It should creep me out that he knows where I live, but this is Rafael—I bet he could find out a lot more than my address if he wanted to.
“Thanks for the ride.” I mean it in more ways than one.
He snarls, actually snarls, and the steering wheel bends under his grip.
The moment is gone in a blink and he breathes in deeply and releases his grip.
I didn’t know vampires needed to breathe.
Maybe it’s just a habit? He gets out and rounds the hood to open my door for me.
He even offers his hand to help me out, but when I step toward my apartment, he doesn’t let go.
“I’m good. You can let go now.”
“I’m not.” He doesn’t say more when he leads us to the door. I dig out my keys and let us inside.
I barely make it past the door before Thea rushes at me from the living room. Her long, curly hair is a mess and she’s wearing a black apron. There’s something green on her cheek and her fingertips are purple.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god, you’re alive. I was so worried.” She crushes me into a hug, still babbling. “You didn’t pick up your phone. I thought… I had to know, so I let myself in and you weren’t here. Where were you? My god, Sammie! Never do this to me ever again.”
“I’m fine,” I assure her and gently push her back so I can breathe.
Her eyes flick over my shoulder and widen a bit.
She recognizes Rafael immediately and turns to look at me again.
I know she can see the lingering effects of the attack, but she can also see the hickeys. She once again looks me up and down.
“You good?” she asks. “Do you need one of my drafts?”
My eyebrows rise in surprise. She usually is very secretive about her practices, but now she’s just throwing that out there in front of Rafael.
“Yes, I’m good. The second dose worked,” I tell her and grimace when nausea roils in my stomach.
“But if you have something to settle my stomach, I wouldn’t say no. ”
“You got it.” She glares at Rafael quickly while taking my hand. “Let’s go to the kitchen and I’ll make you tea.”
“Good to see you too, Thea,” Rafael says, his tone cold. They’ve met only a couple of times at the club and while they were civil to each other for my sake, it would be a big, fat lie to say they got along.
“Yeah, yeah,” Thea huffs. She guides me to a chair at the kitchen island and pulls out her special kettle she keeps in one of the cupboards.
Rafael settles next to me, his eyes taking in everything in my little kitchen. The towels are yellow and a vase full of sunflowers is on the table. On the windowsill there’s a bowl full of herbs, thanks to Thea. I can’t keep anything alive.
My mom swung by two days ago and cleaned everything, so at least I don’t have a pile of dishes in the sink or anything else embarrassing lying around.
Thea is quick and in no time, I have a steaming mug of tea in front of me. She adds the honey and looks me over one more time.
“Call me later. Or I will barge in here again.”
“I promise. I’m sorry I worried you.” I really didn’t mean to worry her. “Love you, Thea.”
“Love you too, Sammie,” she replies and heads for the door. She’s almost out when she stops and turns to glare at Rafael, who has stayed silent this whole time.
“You hurt her and I will find whatever hole you hide in and cut you into tiny, tiny pieces. Got it?”
“Got it,” he says with a solemn face and then she’s out, the door closing behind her.
“Sorry about that,” I mumble and sip my tea.
Rafael only shrugs. “Is the tea helping?”
“Yeah,” I murmur and keep drinking. My stomach settles and warmth spreads over my chest and stomach.
“Witches and their brews,” he mutters and rolls his shoulders like he’s shaking off a chill.
“Thank you for taking me home,” I say, ready for him to go so I can go sleep in the shower.
“You keep trying to get rid of me. It won’t work, darling. I warned you. Once you let me in, that’s it. No going back.”
“But—”
“No buts.”
“I thought you’d be going. This is not what you signed up for.”
He’s got a stubborn look on his face. “You thought wrong. Now, food.”
I blink. I missed something here. “What?”
“Food. Now that your stomach is settled, you need food. Do you want to order in or go out to eat?”
I get up and rinse the empty cup before facing him. He’s glaring at me, still clearly pissed off about something. I just can’t figure out what.
“I’ve got food in the fridge.”
“Great. Go take a shower and I’ll make something.”
His tone raises my hackles and I snap. “You don’t have to. I can take care of myself.”
Rafael growls. “Samantha. I swear to all gods known to mankind, if you don’t stop fighting me, I’ll haul you over my shoulder and lock you in my apartment.
” He runs a hand over his hair and then his mouth, hiding his fangs from view.
“I’m trying to respect your boundaries, but I’m hanging on the edge here.
So, please, go have a nice long shower while I cook for you. ”
“I—oh.” I have nothing to say. “Okay.” I turn on my heel and rush to my bedroom before I do something stupid, like burst into tears right in front of him.
The shower gives me a moment to collect myself and take stock of how I’m feeling. Physically beat. Emotionally wrung out. Do I regret last night? Not one bit.
While drying my hair, I snort.
Who knew Samantha Ramsey, the self-proclaimed slut of Henley College, would first have a three-year dry spell and then fall into bed with just one man?
Past me would mock current me relentlessly.
I trace the hickeys on my neck and sigh.
Time to face the music. I pull on my old college hoodie—it seems fitting somehow—and some yoga pants and stick my feet into my slippers. If he insists on hanging around, he might as well meet Roger and Ralph sooner rather than later. I hate having cold feet.
My stomach growls the moment I smell the scents coming from the kitchen.
I stop at the door to take it all in. Rafael is wearing my ‘Kiss the cook’ apron and flipping over what looks like the most delicious grilled cheese sandwich.
A small salad already sits on the table, along with iced water in a pitcher and a glass of orange juice.
“Sit. This is almost ready,” he says without turning and I sit down, stunned.
“You can cook?”
“I like it.”
“Do vampires even eat food?” I blurt out and he glances at me over his shoulder.
“We don’t. Doesn’t mean I can’t like cooking.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
He ignores me and slides the sandwich on a plate.
“Here,” he says as he sets it in front of me.
I sip the juice, gauging how my stomach handles it, and once half of the glass is safely in my stomach, I bite into the sandwich. I don’t know what he did to it, but it’s a delicious mix of tomato and melted cheese and herbs, and I have to force myself to slow down.
Rafael watches me eat and I give him a thumbs-up, not pausing enough to say anything as I fork some salad into my mouth. It’s a perfect combination.
“Want another?” he asks when I’m almost done.
“Yes, but a bit later.” He nods and silently waits for me to finish. The food is kicking in and I feel better, although a couple more hours of sleep would be great.
“There’s some color in your cheeks again.”
I gulp down the rest of the juice. “This was great. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He clears the plates and narrows his eyes at me. “We need to talk.”
“I’d rather you fuck me again,” I shoot back.
“Samantha.” He grinds his teeth. I blink innocently at him. The food is already making me feel better, and now that I reminded my body of the glorious orgasms he’s able to dish out, my nipples perk up. Then a massive yawn breaks free and Rafael sighs. “Right. You need sleep.”
I want to argue, but it’s hard.
“Get some rest, Samantha. I’ll come by this evening.”
“You—”
“Locking you up is still on the table, too.”
“Fine,” I huff. “Fucking bossy vampire.”
Rafael looks like he’s biting back an answer and then he’s standing next to me. Gently, he tips my head back and grazes his lips over me. “Be a good girl, Samantha, and rest up.” In a blink, he’s gone, the door clicking quietly shut behind him.