Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Samantha
When I wake up, there’s still the faint taste of Rafael’s blood on my tongue and a thrill shoots through my body, quickly followed by anger. And then lust. Disgust. Something else I’d rather not name. Hunger. Basically, I’m all over the place.
Faint light filters past the curtains, but I have a feeling it’s night.
Moonlight. Duh, Samantha. I roll around in the bed, looking for Rafael, but of course he’s nowhere to be seen.
The only thing that keeps me calm is the fact that I can scent him everywhere.
There’s a shirt carelessly thrown over a chair and a book on the table. This is his room.
Jumping out of the bed, I take note of another dress shirt at the end of the bed and pull it on. Not decent but much better than the apron. I feel excited, almost giddy, and I have a sneaking suspicion it’s because of his blood… And the fact that he put me in his room this time.
Neither of those things should make me happy, but as I explore his room and run my fingers over his clothes and things, I still find myself smiling softly. I better get this giddiness under control before he sees it.
The room is large and one door leads into a walk-in closet. The bathroom is next to it and I contemplate climbing into the huge bathtub, but decide against it. The closet is filled with suits, bagged and hung neatly with labels; some of them clearly belong in a museum.
Rafael’s bedroom is surprisingly cozy. The walls are painted dark green and the bedding is dark blue.
The drapes are thick and heavy, and I find a little window seat behind them.
All of it feels like a mix of old and new.
The bed and facilities are modern, but the drapes and the window seat give off a different vibe.
Once my curiosity is somewhat satisfied, I button the shirt and head to the hallway. It’s not anything he hasn’t seen before, but I’d prefer not to flash him right now. It might give him the wrong idea. Or the right one.
Damn it.
All signs of the pain are gone, and my body hums with energy and power. I can’t remember the last time I felt this good, this alive. Ironic really. Dying made me feel more alive. Maybe I should give my shrink a call.
The door handle turns easily and stays attached to the door when I try it. Hmm, so he didn’t lock me in this time? I’m not sure what to think about that, but I decide to mull it over later. For now, I want to explore the house.
Just explore, I remind myself. I’m not looking for the damned vampire and I’m definitely not thinking about sinking my fangs into him again.
Nope. This is going to be an innocent excursion to see my new surroundings until I find underwear and figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do about all of this.
I gravitate toward a window at the end of the hallway and the view that opens up takes my breath away. It seems that I keep breathing out of habit, or maybe I still need air to some capacity. More questions that I don’t have answers to.
This must be the back of the house because I don’t see a driveway and the forest reaches quite close.
At first glance, it all looks wild, but after staring for a while, I can see how gradually the forest thickens and small glades of cultivated roses and wildflower patches peek between branches and hedges.
The mansion must be several stories high for me to see so far.
I want to go outside and explore the gardens, and I press my hand against the glass.
It takes me a moment to realize the oddity.
While snow is falling, a large part of the garden is blooming.
The flakes melt as soon as they hit the ground.
Somewhere in the house, a door closes and I jerk back from the window as a whisper of danger runs down my spine. My instincts roar at me to hide.
I’m halfway back to Rafael’s room before I get a grip. I refuse to cower under the covers.
Quietly, I creep toward the end of the hallway where the sound came from.
I find myself on top of the staircase I admired earlier.
Or in the middle, since the staircase keeps on going to an upper floor.
Unimportant. What is important is the way I can hear sounds that would have been beyond me before the change. A soft thump and footsteps.
What should I do?
I don’t know where Rafael is, but earlier, he seemed to think someone had done something to me, tried to hurt me. Is someone in the house? An intruder? Where the fuck is Rafael? And why do I keep thinking he’d keep me safe?
“Santiago, you can’t stay here.” I hear Rafael’s frustrated voice downstairs, and it holds a tension I don’t think I could have picked up on before. There’s tension but no fear. It messes with my head to hear those nuances so clearly, but I do, and relief floods my body.
I start down the stairs and my feet move so quickly I stumble. One moment, I’m on top of the stairs, and the next, I’m downstairs, clinging to the railing to keep my balance. There’s no one in the lobby, but a deep masculine voice carries from the hallway I didn’t explore.
“You wound me, Rafael. After all this time, you’d banish me out into the cold?”
Who the fuck is Santiago? Why does his voice sound so hot that I’d listen to him reading a phone book to me? And why is he messing with Rafael?
“Don’t push it,” Rafael growls. “You can’t stay here.”
“Ahh.” Santiago laughs and I hear them moving. “You have a woman in here somewhere? Scared I’ll steal her away?”
It hits me then that the tension I hear in Rafael’s voice is jealousy. Surety of it settles in my body. He’s not worried about my safety with this vampire. He is jealous. An evil grin spreads on my face when an idea surfaces.
My fear drains away when I think it over. Rafael seems to think that I somehow belong to him. He fucking turned me against my will and acts like I have no option but to stay with him. I think it’s time for him to learn that no one tells me what to do.
The rage tries to flare up, but I stamp it down the best I’m able. My feelings toward him have always been complicated at best and now they are convoluted. Everything is heightened. I hate him. I want him. The desire to sink my fangs into him wars with the desire to claw his eyes out.
And then there’s this need burning in me. Like I’m turned on constantly. The feeling intensifies as soon as I focus on it. Well, Rafael said that I could get more orgasms despite being mad at him. I just might get them from someone else. I’m not above using this other vampire to make a point.
And his voice is so fucking hot.
After unbuttoning the shirt until it’s held closed with only a couple of buttons, I take a moment to ruffle my hair. It feels silky soft against my fingers now, like dying gave it a boost too. It’s also a little longer than I remember.
What happened to the ‘no flashing Rafael’ policy?
a snarky voice at the back of my head asks.
I huff. Rafael can’t get angry at me for going commando, since he didn’t provide any underwear.
It’s not my fault I look damn good in his wrinkled dress shirt.
The light blue of the shirt offsets the deeper blue of my eyes, hair… and nails.
I have blue nails now?
That realization distracts me for a second, but I shake myself out of it and check my reflection on the frosty glass. My skin seems to almost glow with health. What a joke that is. Now, if only I had some red lipstick, it would finish this look. I guess I’ll manage without.
Rafael’s blood is red. The very unhelpful voice pipes up again.
Nope. I’m not biting him. I pop open one more button above my breasts and smile. Really, I should get points for putting on any clothes at all. It would serve Rafael right if I walked in on them naked.
Trying to move quietly, I make my way toward their voices. Paying attention to my surroundings would be smart, but I can’t focus. I can scent the stranger now and I get the sense of something sweet and delicious. An image of a lemon-meringue pie floats in my mind and I have to stifle a snort.
I’m not sure why the image also makes me hungry, but it does. It is… was my favorite dessert; maybe that’s why.
The men are arguing about something. I haven’t paid attention to their words since I got a whiff of this Santiago. The closer I get to them, the stronger both of their scents get and I feel myself melting. It’s hard to stay mad at someone who smells so delicious.
I press a hand to my stomach. A quiver of excitement sweeps over me and I can feel myself getting wet. If I had panties on, I would be seeping through them right about now.
How I’ve managed to move quietly enough that they haven’t noticed me is a wonder.
Stopping at the doorway, I take in the scene in front of me.
The living room is large but cozy, filled with big and comfortable-looking chairs and sofas.
A huge TV hangs on the wall and a few rugs cover the hardwood floor.
There are even several pillows on the sofa and a blanket draped over the back of it.
All that is well and good, but the two male specimens standing in front of the fireplace at the back of the room put everything else to shame.
They are both tall. Santiago might be a smidge taller than Rafael, but it’s hard to tell. Both of them have black hair, but Santiago’s is longer and tied back into a ponytail. Not my usual type, but he makes me think about a proud warrior instead of a hipster.
I’m curious about his eye color. I know Rafael has deep brown eyes that melt my lady parts when they turn to shades of black. How will Santiago’s look when he’s turned on or hungry?
They still haven’t noticed me, their arms moving with their argument, and I can tell that underneath those clothes, there are muscles aplenty.
Santiago is leaner than Rafael, once again bringing to mind a warrior whose body is sculpted on a battlefield.
Damn, my mind is having a field day with that image.