CHAPTER FORTY
Ailsa
THE MOMENT I’D seen Davien standing there in that room my heart had stopped beating for just a second.
He looked… different.
Not weak, but worn in a way I hadn’t seen before.
His dark hair had been pushed back as though someone had tried to make him presentable, though a few unruly strands had already fallen loose again, no doubt from him repeatedly running his hands through it.
The crisp shirt they’d forced him into did nothing to soften the sharp lines of him; if anything, it made the tension in his broad shoulders more obvious, the rigid set of his spine.
There was a faint shadow along his jaw and his eyes were darker than usual, no specs of silver to be found.
A strange part of me—one that I didn't want to acknowledge, let alone understand—had wanted nothing more than to run into his arms, to take comfort in his strong hold.
I hated that instinct.
Hated that he had somehow become the closest thing to a friend I had, particularly in this world of supernaturals. I was so far out of my depth that my feeble heart called to him for comfort.
My eyes found his and I loathed the pity I saw there. “As long as you don’t keep looking at me like that,” I said, finding my inner strength. God knew I’d need it. I had the sinking feeling that things would only get worse from here on out.
Davien stepped in front of me as though he could protect me from what was coming next as the door opened and a man stepped into the room.
“I’d say I’m surprised to see you act as a lapdog to the boss, but here we are,” Davien snarled at the newcomer.
“We can’t all be as rebellious as you,” he retorted, but I lost all ability to register the words between the two as a chill ran down my spine at the realisation that I knew that voice.
They continued back and forth with their insults, but I couldn’t concentrate, I just froze.
It felt as though my heart stopped beating when the blond vampire with the most familiar green eyes sauntered further into the room.
All of his bravado and charm dropped in an instant when our eyes locked.
He shook his head ever so slightly. “N-no,” he stammered.
He was the guy from the club.
The one I’d fucked before my whole life had changed.
I swallowed hard, unsure where to look or what to say.
He’s a vampire.
Which means he was a vampire then.
Had he known?
What the fuck was happening?
What sort of sick joke was this?
Was this some sort of trick to try and rattle me?
No, this was real.
The room stood in silence as I looked at this vampire and he looked right back, Davien in the middle looking between us, seeing the unspoken words. Sensing something between us.
We knew each other.
“It can’t be,” the man whose name I still didn’t even know stumbled. “This isn’t possible. You can’t possibly be—” he cut himself off. “But you’re human.”
“Someone fill me in to what the fuck is happening here,” Davien grit out.
“Is this a trick?” I whispered, ignoring Davien.
“No. I—I wouldn’t have. I mean I would have never agreed to this if I had known it was you.”
“You’re a vampire… one of them,” I said, trying to cover the tremble in my voice. I was already so on edge, I couldn’t cope with this.
Davien cursed under his breath, putting two and two together. “Him? Seriously?”
“I don’t even know his name,” I rebuffed.
“Leon, by the way,” he interjected smoothly, cutting through the tension before it could snap. “I’ll be your escort tonight,” he said in a strange tone, fake, louder, detached. Like he was performing for an audience I couldn't see.
Then he shot Davien a glare that sent shivers down my spine. But what scared me more was that Davien instantly straightened his spine and plastered an equally cold expression back onto his face. And that alone told me that this conversation wasn’t private, and that I needed to watch my words.
“Like fuck you are,” Davien said, his tone thick with rage. But somehow I knew he was continuing the play Leon had started. They had to keep up appearances.
“She’ll be safe with me, dickhead,” Leon returned, rolling his shoulders with lazy confidence.
Davien scoffed, folding his arms across his chest, puffing himself up like he was ready to tear Leon apart there and then.
I looked between the men—or vampires—and their pissing contest, irritation bubbling beneath my skin. This was all I needed.
“Where is my sister?” I cut in, my voice sharper than I intended, slicing straight through their act, choosing to ignore everything else my gut was feeling.
Leon’s attention shifted to me, his expression flickering with confusion.
“My sister,” I pressed. “She’s the only reason I’m here.”
Not technically true. I mean, I was here because I’d been kidnapped, beaten and then dressed up like a doll, but that didn’t sound as good in my mind.
I told myself that the only reason I hadn’t resisted and fought was because I needed to get Claire to safety first. Something I’d miserably failed at thus far.
No one had told me anything about her whereabouts despite my constant asking, and the pit in my stomach was growing minute by minute.
Leon scratched the back of his head nonchalantly, “Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t know anything about that.”
I eyed him, unsure if he was telling the truth or if he felt like he couldn’t be truthful.
Before I could push further, we were being ushered out of the building and into a vehicle.
A car ride passed in strained silence, Leon in the driver’s seat while Davien and I sat in the back. No one spoke. No one dared.
When we finally pulled up, Leon stepped out first, rounding the car to open my door like some well-trained gentleman.
But the moment he disappeared from view the door lock slammed down. Davien’s hand had shot to the central locking button, sealing us in.
“We only have a few seconds. He’s a true born. A dick. But he’s just misguided and decent at heart. But be careful, he doesn’t know about you know what, and he’s not a part of it.”
My pulse quickened.
“Don’t trust anyone,” he added, softer now but not less firm. “Don’t let your guard down.”
He unlocked the door just in time for Leon to open my side and offer me his hand. I took it and stepped out onto a gravelled path, the cool night air brushing against my skin.
A huge manor loomed ahead like something torn from a gothic nightmare—vast and imposing, aged stone covered in crawling ivy. A sweeping driveway curved toward grand double doors, flanked by towering columns.
It was magnificent.
Beautiful.
And utterly suffocating.
“Welcome to Eilidh Manor, sweetheart.”
I straightened my back and took a sharp inhale.
I could do this.
I had to.