Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
CHARLI
He shoots me an incredulous look, but I tug him closer. Reaching for his other hand, I clasp it and move into his stiff arms. With my heels on, he’s only a few inches taller than me. I smile. “Thanks for handling the situation.” He says nothing. “This is nice.”
He stares down at me, a sneer on his face. “If you say so.”
What the—! “You’re giving me whiplash. Just leave.” I drop his hand and step back. “I’m sure I won’t have any problem finding someone else to dance with.”
He jerks me into his arms. “That’s not happening. Put your hands around my neck.”
Heads turn to watch the two of us, and I mutter a curse word. Linking my fingers behind his neck, I stare at his tie, my jaw locked with irritation.
Splaying his hand wide on my back, he moves us across the floor in time with the music.
“Look at me,” he murmurs. When I refuse, he leans down. “Please.”
I peer up into his warm, caramel-colored eyes.
His gaze is potent and intense, flaring with a passion I’m sure he’d deny.
He moves closer, and I gasp when I feel every inch of his body pressed against mine, including his hard cock.
My breath stutters. All I want to do is rub against him like a cat.
He slows until we’re barely swaying to the music.
I keep reminding myself of his intent to reject me. Us. But it isn’t doing any good.
Ever since I gave him my blood, there’s been this underlying current between us. Not the intangible link between mates, like I feel with Teague and Macklin, but a very real physical need that’s growing with every passing second.
“You lied to me,” I tell him. “That day in your office when you told me vampires don’t have mates. Did you know? That there was a possibility I was your mate?”
He stiffens. “Teague told me about Raine’s vision, but I didn’t believe it was true. It’s exceedingly rare for vampires to have mates.”
“I see. Can you hear me? Like my thoughts,” I ask, stumbling over the question but needing to know the answer.
“No.”
Thank goodness. Although now I’m curious. “What else is different?”
His brow furrows, and he shrugs. “The only thing I know is the bond doesn’t happen until we exchange blood. Given that I’ve taken yours but haven’t given you mine, nothing is set in stone,” he replies, tilting his head, a curious glint in his eye.
“We don’t have to have sex to bond?” I squeak.
He spares me an amused but heated look. “We can fuck any time we want. Why?” Leaning in close, he skims his sharp incisors down the column of my neck. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
I swallow hard, my fingers flexing, wanting a taste of what he’s offering, but forcing myself to remember his words. “Not a chance.”
He laughs. “Liar. I can hear your heart racing.”
“Fear,” I state firmly, lifting my chin.
Placing his lips near my ear, he whispers, “Fear doesn’t make you wet.” He moves back a step, dropping his gaze to my chest. “Or your nipples hard.”
Asshole. Having had enough, I jerk myself from his arms and turn on my heel, leaving him on the dance floor with an amused expression on his smug face.
In my eagerness to get away, I bump into a server, and a couple of glasses crash to the floor. People turn in our direction, but I’m frozen, staring at him in horror.
I hear someone yell for Leif.
The server tosses his tray at me and pivots, but Macklin is there to grab him.
Teague and Andros move to stand beside me.
“Vision?” Teague asks tersely, his eyes locked on the man in front of me.
I nod.
Leif comes up along with Alex, Sofia, Torsten, and several of his men. “What’s going on?” He looks at the server. “Karl?”
The man starts squirming, fur rippling across his arms, but Macklin’s hold is unbreakable.
“He started the fire. At the cabin. The one that killed Annika,” I tell Leif.
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Karl sneers, trying to jerk his arm away from Macklin.
Sofia tilts her head. “Wait. You were there that day. I remember my mom arguing with you. About someone named Sven.”
The man glances around wildly. “I went by to talk to her. That’s it. I left after a few minutes.”
“He did leave,” Sofia says, a distant expression on her face.
Leif looks at Macklin. “Let him go.” Leif shoves the man toward Torsten, who grabs him in a tight grip.
White fur ripples along Leif’s arm, and Teague steps in front of me.
“I always thought it was somebody she knew,” Torsten murmurs, his smooth voice becoming garbled as his eyes begin to glow.
Leif looks at me. “Would you mind sketching your vision? I’d like to see it.”
I dip my chin in agreement, and Alex takes off running, returning a second later with a pencil and a notebook.
With quick strokes, I show the man returning, pouring liquid around the cabin, and lighting it while Annika stands in the cabin with a young girl in her arms. Sofia.
In the next scene, Annika and Sofia flee the burning cabin.
The man grabs the little girl and holds a knife to her throat while another man forces Annika to swallow a purple flower.
Leif’s hands shake when he looks at the images. “Someone find Bengt.” There’s a rustling in the back of the room, and three men drag a fourth to the front.
Leif glances at Teague. “Get Charli out of here.”
Teague takes my hand, and the four of us get our coats and leave. Howling pierces the night air, and I shiver and tuck myself into Teague’s arms.
“What was that purple flower?”
“Wolfsbane,” Macklin replies, motioning to his truck. “Give me a hug, love. I need to run out to help with the dragons that are hatching tonight.” He holds his arms wide, and I slide into them for his kiss. “Mmm. Sweet dreams.”
Macklin turns to Andros. “Ready?”
Andros is staring at the restaurant. “Your vision. It was so detailed.” He looks at me. “Have you ever had one about me?”
I hesitate.
He grabs my arms. “What did you see?”
Macklin jerks him away, and Teague roars. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I saw all three of you,” I admit with a heavy sigh.
“For two years, I dreamed of partial faces, features I searched for everywhere I went. Deep blue eyes, stern lips, a broad grin. Sometimes I got a glimpse of a scene but never a face. I knew when I came to Greystone and saw those features on the three of you that I was meant to be here.”
“That’s it?” Andros asks, his intense gaze demanding the truth. “You didn’t see my past?”
“I swear,” I tell him.
He jerks his arm from Macklin’s and storms off.
Macklin looks at me. “I’ve got to go. Would you mind explaining why he asked? You know he never talks about it.”
Teague nods. “Go after him. We’ll see you in the morning.” He helps me into the SUV, then strides around to the other side.
“What was that all about?” I shakily ask Teague when he gets in.
“Normally, I wouldn’t tell someone else’s story, but it’s unlikely Andros will ever tell you,” he says, his voice heavy.
“Andros served as a manservant for a French aristocrat back in the Middle Ages who was both cruel and a drunk. He often beat his servants, especially Andros, because he was always the one who took care of him. One night, Andros tried to put him to bed, and in a drunken rage, he shoved him…and Andros fell halfway into the fireplace.”
I close my eyes as his words hit hard. “That’s why he wears gloves.”
“And formal attire. Shirts buttoned up completely,” Teague expands, then continues.
“Unfortunately, some fool turned that bastard into a vampire, then he turned Andros because he was unwilling to live without his favorite servant. For two hundred years, Andros followed him. Accepting whatever punishment he dished out.” His hands tighten on the steering wheel.
“And there were a lot of punishments. Cruel games.”
A knot forms in my throat, and I swallow hard. “It’s hard to picture that fierce, intelligent man as a victim of abuse, but I see it. The way he responds to everything, as if it’s amplified, a current he’s constantly swimming against.”
Teague parks, and we head toward the elevator. “He wasn’t the man you see today. His sire controlled him by keeping him ignorant and dependent. He couldn’t read or write. Nor could he feed unless it was from his sire. Another mechanism for him to use. Starved him for every little transgression.”
He opens the front door and pours us both a glass of wine, then removes his sport coat.
“Andros finally had enough. He ran away to die. Unfortunately for him, he hid out in the church where Macklin and I were stationed, and we refused to let him. We slowly taught him how to survive, to read and write, to fight. Took us a few years.”
Realization dawns. “He’s afraid I’m going to touch him and see his past.” My fingers slip inside the shirt I’m wearing and caress the scars on my shoulders and upper back.
Teague nods and sits down on the couch, then pulls me into his lap.
“He’s terrified. It took him a long time to trust Macklin and me.
Not that his past is an excuse for him to act that way, but we thought you should know in case he has any redeeming qualities you might want in a mate.
” Leaning forward, he places small kisses on the side of my neck.
“But I think he’s also scared because you make him feel.
Something he’s managed to avoid almost all his life. ”
“So, you met him and helped him, then he came here with you?” I ask, fingering the button on his shirt.
“If the horde hadn’t been rampaging across Ireland, I still don’t know if he would have come with us.”
“Horde?”
Teague stares down at his glass. “Vampires used to have a king. Pretty fair one too. But like many aristocracies and systems built with one ruler, factions popped up, tore it down. Vampire warlords emerged. It was a brutal time. It decimated the gargoyle population because we were one of the few armies who stood against them.” He sighs.
“Tired of it all, we left Ireland and came here. Andros came with us.”
Listening to him talk about creatures and wars I’ve never heard of reminds me how different our worlds have been. It’s a miracle we ever found each other.
“Is Greystone what you thought it would be?” I ask, having some inkling of how it feels to leave everything familiar.
“All our lives were spent in the service of the gargoyle army. It was both a privilege and a duty. Greystone gave us the freedom to dream. To build something for ourselves and others which would not have been possible in our old lives,” he says, his eyes shining with pride.
He looks at me. “What do you think of Greystone?”
“My first vision changed my world, and after that, I never felt comfortable anywhere. Too afraid someone would find out,” I admit, then shrug.
“I feel like I fit in here. That I don’t need to hide myself or what I can do.
Greystone also gives me the freedom to dream and build something I never thought would be possible. Thanks to you and Macklin and Andros.”