Chapter Eighteen #2
“My brother told me, when I was finding out why Abe’s here, but it’s under control.”
“How the hell is it under control?” Half the reason Cora was struggling was because of rocketing prices. What happened if Havenshire couldn’t produce enough food or there was too much rain or too little or…
“Hey,” Theo cooed, taking her hand in his as her mind spiralled.
“Seriously, it’s going to be fine. Salvation has the biggest port outside Havenshire, we just need to keep him happy, but not that happy,” he added when Verity flinched.
“The blessed haven’t been allowed inside Havenshire for a long time.
We show them some hospitality, make them feel special, and they’ll open up a new trade route for us. It’ll be fine.”
Verity nodded. “Just be nice to him,” she said, almost to herself.
“That’s it,” Theo smiled, pushing her plate towards her.
Staring at the food, she nodded. Obviously, more important things were going on in the world than her stupid Ostara festival. Theo was doing the real work, making a difference and keeping Havenshire going.
“What’s wrong with the Cliffhaven port?” she asked. At the start of the outbreak, the council stressed that it remained safe to use, that the illness wouldn’t spread.
Again, Theo considered his words before speaking, taking his time to chew. “All of this stays between us,” he said, waiting for Verity to nod before going on. “Some of the humans there feel abandoned.”
“Of course they do. It’s been over a year. How haven’t they found a cure yet?” She took a bite of lasagna, her first, and gods it tasted good. Theo might only know how to reheat things, but Enzo Whats-his-name knew how to cook.
“Well,” Theo went on. “It would seem that a group has declared themselves… New Albion.”
Verity choked. “What?” she wheezed.
“Yeah well, they’ve burnt the docks and they’re attacking vampires.”
Holy fucking Phoenar. “They’ll get banished to the Wilds.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Theo said, getting her some fresh water. “If they’re banished, they’ll just try to find their way to actual Albion and then they’ll help whatever new anti-vampire scheme they’ve got going on. I doubt the Roses would allow it.”
“So what? What will happen to them?”
He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know, but right now we need to find new trade links so they’re being left to their own devices.”
“But…” she started, unable to find the words as her eyes roamed his face.
Left to their own devices? What did that mean? War on the streets? Fighting by moonlight? This group must be significant if they were stopping trade. What about those who didn’t wish to fight: the young, the old, the sick?
Theo’s chair squeaked on wood as he scooted closer, wrapping a cool hand around hers. “I know,” he said, and the look of hollow defeat in his eyes told her he meant it. That he’d asked himself every one of the questions now plaguing her.
He knew her pain. He didn’t know the answers.
They finished their meal in silence. Theo’s hand moved to her back and stayed there as he ate, unwilling to relinquish contact. Verity felt guilty for eating, for learning such news and then enjoying a meal. Were the humans of Cliffhaven enjoying a meal?
By the time they finished, her eyelids were as heavy as her heart, sleep finally demanding her attention.
“I meant it when I said I could wait,” Theo told her, but allowed her to take his hand and guide him over to the sofa.
Her lips quirked into a lazy smile as she sat and found the coin on the arm of the chair. She picked it up before turning to throw her legs over Theo’s and burrowing into the cushions. A moment, then his hand moved to rest atop her legs, accepting the way she lounged beside him.
Idle fingers tangled in the fabric of her pyjamas, making Verity wish she’d worn shorts or a nightdress. Maybe next time. Maybe next time, when he brought her home by the light of the sun, just him and her and the rules that hung between them, maybe she’d try.
“You’ll lose it,” she said, holding the coin up.
He shook his head. “I won’t lose it,” he said, taking her hand when she offered it.
“You will. Don’t think I didn’t see it in the soap dish yesterday, and you used it as a bookmark.” It had fallen out of the book, nearly chipping the coffee table when he cleared her a space to work on the festival.
“Would you rather I kept it in its little box? Nice to look at but never to touch?” His thumbs stroked her veins as he spoke, eyes dark as a bottomless lake fixed with hers. She could drown in that lake.
“It helps you think?” she asked, rolling the coin between the fingers of her free hand.
He nodded.
“And you like touching?”
His thumb pressed a little harder, pulling her a little closer as he held her gaze and nodded. She knew he liked touching, knew that his pre-donation massages weren’t nearly as necessary as he made out, but she’d never tell him for fear he might stop.
Ever since Verity had learnt about Isabella, she had done her best to keep her distance, or as distant as she could be with the man she was pretending to be in a relationship with. She wanted to respect that, respect his wishes and Isabella’s memory, but he wasn’t making it easy.
Hot and cold. Hot and cold.
He’d touch her and hold her and watch her with such hunger, and Verity didn’t know what to do anymore.
She wanted him to comfort her, to comfort her properly, curled up on his lap with his fingers in her hair.
And she wanted to comfort him, run her thumb over the light stubble along his jawline, press herself to his chest as she followed that line with her lips.
Tilting his head back, Theo closed his eyes, pulling Verity back to the room. The coin felt hot in her hand, the aged metal heating in her fist.
“Just don’t lose it.”
“Never,” he said, raising her wrist to his mouth and pressing a kiss to her skin.
Something broke in her at the gentleness, the reverence with which he held her.
The way that, even after all that time, all that had happened between them, he still opened his eyes and waited for her permission before biting, before taking from her.
The pain sang to her, just as perfect as the first bite. It still made her heart pound and her core ache, even more so when she remembered the way he had forced her to watch in his office. He liked it, his prey’s complete acceptance.
So, she watched, breathy sighs dancing on her tongue as his cheeks hollowed and his eyes devoured her.
Tired. He looked so tired with slow blinks and purple stains beneath his eyes, but still he watched. Soft growls rumbled from his chest when she tried to shuffle closer but there was no space left between them, any closer, and she really would be on his lap.
“Wait,” she blurted when he pulled her wrist from his mouth, holding her hand above them. “That isn’t enough.”
“Shh,” he hushed, then pulled her up just enough to slip behind her, pulling her back down to lay against him, her back to his chest. “Comfortable?” he asked, pulling her arm around her body and licking up the blood oozing from her wrist.
Her heart thundered. Comfortable? Lying against him as he fed on her, his body moulding to hers, feeling his breath on her neck. Her neck…
“My neck,” she whispered, forcing her body to relax into him, as the image flashed across her mind. His teeth sinking into her neck, the hand that fell over her waist moving lower, lower, beneath clothes and…
“No.” A flat, harsh word as he cleaned up the escaped blood.
“But…”
“No, Verity. Don’t ever ask that of me. There has to be lines.”
His voice sounded rough, strained. She felt the way his hand tightened on her waist, the way his breath caught at her request.
He wanted to. Gods, he wanted to.
Stifling a snort, she twisted to see him, raising an eyebrow but not forcing the point.
She was lying in his arms, feeling more safety and comfort than she had in her life despite being alone in a vampire’s home, but that was the line?
Fine, Verity could accept her win and save that for another day.
Nestling against him, she sighed when he started drinking again, eyes fluttering shut as she allowed herself to simply exist in that feeling. In the sensation. To swim in it until she became vaguely aware of his soft licks, healing her.
“Are you warm enough?” he whispered, perhaps not wanting to wake her.
She nodded.
“Are you sure? I know I’m not…”
“Shut up, Theo,” she murmured, rolling over to bury her face into his chest, her head resting on his arm.
He tensed for a moment before relaxing. The arm that wrapped around her weighed her down, pulling her under until at last sleep claimed her.