Lucy
There is less snow here in the countryside surrounding the city of Pécs than in Budapest as the SUV purrs up the empty road towards the city in the distance. The lights are already twinkling in the gathering gloom.
“I have a place in the old town,” Dominik says. “It should suffice until we can return to Budapest.”
“I hate to think of you slumming it for me,” I reply. “I could always catch a plane back to London.” I put my finger on my chin. “Oh wait, I can’t. You bought all the tickets to stop me.”
“London isn’t safe for you either.”
“It’s a damn sight safer than a country filled with vampires.”
“You exaggerate, Lucy. Hungary is hardly filled with vampires,” Dominik says. “It has plenty of other monsters too Werewolves—I believe you’ve met some. Gargoyles, demons, ogres, dragons…”
“Dragons?”
“Dragon shifters to be more precise. Hotheads from the depths of the earth.” Dominik briefly looks over at me. “Not so many of those left now. Not after all the monster hunting in medieval times.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes. “I know my history. Dragons don’t exist.”
“If you were hunted to near extinction, you’d pretend you didn’t exist.” Dominik shrugs. “But if you want anything and it seems impossible to get it, the Hadúr are the creatures to ask. For a price, of course.”
I’m about to call him out on the impossibility of dragons, given all the monsters revealed themselves to the human world not so long ago, and no dragons, or dragon shifters, were included, when we sweep up a road with a hill on one side and a high city wall on the other.
There is even less snow here, most of it having melted away, perhaps due to the warmth of the city itself.
But it means I can see the honeyed stone of the walls and the terracotta of the tiles on the roofs within.
Dominik turns right, through a gap in the wall, and instantly we’re transported back hundreds of years with the architecture.
The high walls continue, and yet at the same time, the pretty colors of the newer buildings contrast in a harmony I wouldn’t have expected.
Dominik steers the vehicle into a courtyard, and ahead of us a large set of gates open so we can drive through into another, smaller yard surrounded by high stone walls, dotted with windows. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost describe it as a castle.
“Come, Lucy,” Dominik says, opening my door and yet again offering me his hand. “The sun is setting.”
He’s not wrong, but I’ve never been afraid of the dark.
I slide my hand into his and let the vampire take me into his lair.
If Dominik’s nest in Budapest was typical gothic vampire, then this place is Scandi minimalist at its finest.
The floors are a polished buff-colored limestone, the walls lime-washed white in the places where the stonework has not been exposed. The large hall opens out even further into a huge open plan, double height kitchen living area with a mezzanine floor above.
A large modern Mors? cylindrical wood burning stove is flaming merrily in the far corner of the room next to a corner suite of couches which look incredibly comfortable.
“My little bolt hole,” Dominik says as he opens the large fridge and starts to remove items.
For a moment, I expect there to be bags of O-negative, but instead what I see is a selection of groceries being carefully piled on the white marble kitchen island.
“Your what? What are you doing?” I demand.
A feeling of exhaustion rushes over me, and I find I’m in a pair of strong arms before I hit the floor.
“I’m fine.” I struggle to get free of the vampire, who smells like spice and leather. “The pregnancy…I get light-headed when I haven’t…”
“Eaten? What do you think I’m doing, Lucy? I’m going to cook for you.”
“Cook? You’re a vampire. You don’t eat.”
Dominik foils my attempts to break free, instead plonking me down on a stool at the island.
“I might have particular tastes, but it doesn’t mean I can’t cook,” he replies.
“You’re a vampire king…you have thralls for goodness’ sake.”
Dominik shrugs. “No excuse. Before I was turned, I used to cook all the time. I guess the habit never left me, and I suppose, I like it.”
And for a brief moment, I see him. I see the man he was, not the vampire he is. The man who still cooks even if he doesn’t eat because it reminds him of a time before he was monster royalty.
“Here.” He places a glass in front of me filled with orange juice. “Drink or you’ll get dehydrated.”
“And the last thing you want is a meal who isn’t flowing well,” I say, and instantly regret my words at the hurt which flashes, briefly, over Dominik’s face.
A stab to his heart worse than any I could have inflicted with my stake.
A cruelty I didn’t need to trot out.
“I won’t hurt you, Lucy,” he says as he sets up a pan and starts frying bloody chunks of beef, turning them deftly over with a pair of tongs as they brown. “That’s not why I brought you here.”
“I know. We have an agreement. I pretend to be into you, attend a few functions, be shown off as your tame vampire hunter and…”
“And you get to have your baby in peace.” He gestures with his tongs to our current surroundings.
I find myself subconsciously putting a hand over my stomach as he gazes at me.
“It’s hardly peace if I’m being chased by your brother.”
“I’ll handle Damek,” Dominik says. “I can promise you the peace you crave.”
I wonder how much of this is Dominik the vampire king talking and how much of it he actually wants. Why any self-respecting vampire would want a pregnant woman in their life, as opposed to the stunning female vampires I’ve met in my time, I have no idea.
But what other options are there? Even without the threat of his brother, I still have my family to contend with.
And the thought of not having to deal with anything—work, family, living conditions—for the next seven months is more than attractive.
I think it’s the only option. And I silently curse Dominik for being so damn right.