15. Chapter 15 #4
“Thank you,” I offered, burning with shame and something I couldn’t quite pinpoint.
“It was my fault. I should have told you.”
He’d almost sounded like he’d gotten me mortally wounded.
“You should have.” I scratched my nose, planning to search a plot of land with a seaside view to dig up with my bare nails. “I could have gotten a hand from someone else and spared myself all the embarrassment.”
I realised I’d said the wrong thing when his whole body tensed against mine. Why had he not put me down yet? Why were my breasts out, and why was I still laying on him with his hand still on my thigh, only an inch or so from my bare sex?
“Who?”
I tipped my head to the side at his question. “Who what?”
“Who would you have asked?” He tilted his head back until the shadows swallowed the entirety of his face, only the piercing glint of his golden eyes visible. “Arthur?”
I sputtered. “W-what?”
“I’ve seen how you look at him.”
“You’re not being serious.”
He grabbed my chin, pulling my head back against his shoulder. “The only reason I haven’t killed him yet is because I know he wouldn’t touch something that’s mine. So, for his sake, I hope you’re careful.”
My pulse was thundering in my ears, and his irritation was growing severe as his tongue slipped over his fangs.
“No one can have me, but you can have anyone you want? Namely Irena, but I hear you have a whole list.” Leaning all the way back, I got comfortable in his lap and pressed his tie to my nostril to stop the bleeding.
“I play fair, Willow.”
I glared at him.
He unbuttoned the top of his shirt, raking a look down my body that was still so pliantly spread over him.
“Irena is an informant. She came that day to let me know the parliament had gone through with a deal that I and the entire House of the Lords had particularly rejected. Many of the statesmen are her clients. Men like to talk when they fight, feed, and fuck.”
“What kind of deal?”
“Mandatory enlistment for those sixteen and over.”
“Enlistment for what?”
“They want to advance into human territories. With this Madness all over our feet, they think expanding the population would benefit us.”
“I am sure humans are fine residing in Mortdale as long as they see benefit to it. I’m not sure I understand the need for violence.”
“Not as humans,” he said. “Once turned, they would be subjected to siring laws. Basically slaves they will keep alive for all kinds of manual labour for barely a litre of blood a week. Not even that. The concept of blood slaves isn’t new, but we did try for a hundred fucking years to eradicated it. Only for it to come to this.”
My eyes widened as I shot up straight. “Shit.”
He hissed, his hand tightening against my hip as he pulled me back on his lap. “Irena has close ties to the Morngate courts, too. Her mother is one of King Ignatius’s healers. She’s been a bridge for our communication. I can’t have Ulric finding this out.”
I was severely underdressed for this kind of conversation, but I tried to ignore my state of nakedness and his thumb tracing circles against my thigh. “What kind of communication?”
“Proof that we didn’t kill his daughter. Matter of fact, she was nowhere near Mortdale at the time she’s presumed to have died.”
“You have found proof?”
“The Greyvale emissary who lives in Mortdale went through the passage records for me. Ignatius’s daughter had gotten through Grayvale across the Faegard border.”
“What was she doing in Faegard?”
His gaze rolled past my face and down my body. “Not even a clue. Their emissary has come up empty handed every time I’ve inquired.”
“You think this might stop the war?”
“Hardly. Ignatius is an extremely distrusting, grieving old man. But this might hold him off a little longer until I can prove everything to him.”
“How will you do that?”
“I got permission to enlist a few lycans under the alpha’s service to track down his daughter’s remains.”
“That’s impressive for someone who was not raised in politics.”
“No politics involved. Favours, on the other hand,” he said, blowing a cloud of smoke above us and setting the cigarette between my lips.
His eyes latched onto me, watching me take a long drag.
Just as he pulled the cigarette away from my lips, he leaned in, breathing in all the smoke leaving my parted mouth and capturing it in a brief, sharp, wet kiss. “Feeling better?”
I nodded, feeling my nipples tighten against the cold air. “Can I have your jacket?” I asked, reaching to lower my dress that was still bunched up against my hips.
His brow was pressed against my temple. With his face buried in my hair, he said, “I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“That you were saddled with an old, selfish vampire.”
“You’re not that old,” I yawned, resting my heavy head against his shoulder. “And you love your little girl too hard to be selfish.”
My tongue must have loosened up when his fingers had been inside me because I said, “I can…I can help you, too.”
He swallowed hard, breathing even harder. “I don’t want you to touch me.”
Oh.
Every limb in my body went into rigor. “I’m sorry, I didn't…I don’t know why I said that,” I stuttered, pushing up from his lap and quickly putting his jacket on before settling across from him.
He ran a hand over his face as he shook his head. “Willow, you don’t know what you’re saying. There’s still epimedium in your blood. I—”
At that moment the carriage came to a stop, and I shot out.
My feet couldn’t carry me quickly enough to my room, ignoring all his calls.
Only when I had myself locked in my bedroom did I sink against the smooth grain and bury my face against my knees, letting the darkness around me swallow me whole.