Chapter 39
Laurent’s mood had gone from eager excitement to a mix of confusion and fury.
“I thought I was imagining it,” Lily said, staring at him with worried blue eyes. “First, when I saw him at the night market, and then…”
“When?” he snapped. Lily flinched. They stood in the bathroom, the mirror reflecting their images beside the double sinks. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, little flower. Forgive me. My temper is on a short fuse. When?” The words came out calmer this time.
“At the opening ball. I caught a flash of his eyes in the crowd. Then again, at some of our other events. I swear I keep seeing glimpses of him, but they’re so brief.
I thought…after that first time, you said he was dead.
I thought I was imagining it, or wrong. I don’t know.
” She placed her hand against her forehead.
“I saw him die,” he mused, trying to understand.
But if Lio was alive, and clearly he was, then his touching Lily had been blatant.
A message specifically intended for him.
“Fuck,” he hissed, the realization sinking in deep.
“He could have had your wrist in his mouth, your blood on his lips, in the blink of an eye.”
Lily’s eyes widened. She knew the temptation an amplifier posed to a vampire. All it took was a single taste. “But…you wouldn’t have let that happen. You stopped Henrietta.”
“I stopped Henrietta, yes. I will do the same for any who touch you. But it shouldn’t have come to that.
Most vampires know better than to touch what’s mine.
” Lily’s pupils blew wide at those words.
She liked being his—didn’t need to say it aloud for him to know.
“I would have killed him, Lily. My own son, in front of tonight’s crowd, had he put his fangs in your neck. ”
“But…he’s supposed to already be dead.”
He ground his teeth. “Yes. That’s what concerns me. I need to speak with Marco.” He dropped her wrist, stepping away.
“Oh.” Confusion turned to disappointment. Lily’s expression shuttered. “Right. Of course.”
“Fuck,” he groaned as his control teetered on the edge. Things between them had been tenuous, at best. Tonight was supposed to be a chance for them to reestablish their relationship. Running off like this in the middle of the night…
“It’s all right,” she assured him, trying to hide what he plainly saw in her expression. Disappointment. The thought of disappointing her sickened him, even if he didn’t want to admit it.
“It will only take a few minutes. Can you give me that?”
“Sure.” She shrugged, then glanced down at her dress, her beautiful dress. He’d imagined himself taking it off her, unwrapping her like the gift that she was. “I’ll just…go get ready for bed.”
“No.” The command fell from his lips. Her head snapped up. “I’d like to undress you tonight. Wait for me, please?”
Her expression softened. “Okay,” she whispered.
He leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth before he left the room.
Marco was in the drawing room, a drink in hand, smirking. “Trouble in the bedroom?”
“Fuck off, Marco. Now is not the time.” Seeing his sire’s expression, Marco turned serious, sitting forward. “Lio was at the garden party tonight. He touched Lily.”
“Lio.” Marco repeated the name, expression unchanging.
“Yes. Lio.”
Marco’s lips parted in surprise, confusion. “But…you saw him die. And I saw his body afterward.”
“He’s very much alive. Lily has seen him here in Genia at several events. I know what I smelled on her wrist, Marco.”
“But…how?”
“I too would like to know,” he growled, fighting for control of his emotions. “But the how isn’t important right now. I want to know why. Why he’s not dead. Why he’s here. Alive. Leaving his scent on someone that very much belongs to me.”
Their gazes held.
“You think he’s the one who ordered Lily’s abduction,” Marco realized. “And…the blood ruby? Our family? Could it be his doing?”
Laurent cursed under his breath, then sagged onto the sofa across from Marco. “All this time, I worried about a traitor in our house. I went so far as to suspect Kian. I never liked the way he looked at Lily, especially after what happened with Henrietta.”
Emotions stirred within his chest. He’d been fond of Lio. He couldn’t deny the hurt he’d felt over his death. But this? This betrayal? It was far worse. Almost too much.
Marco knocked back his drink. “What do you need me to do?” His expression was grim—he understood the implications as well as Laurent did.
“What you do best. Find him. Tonight.”
Marco stood. “I’ll do what I can.” Then left.
He stared into the fire. Minutes passed, his mind deep in thought.
Lio was supposed to be dead, except clearly, he wasn’t.
He thought back over the events of the past, wondering how it could be possible.
He’d watched Bardanes’s assassin rip Lio’s heart from his chest, much the same way he’d killed Henrietta.
Such a thing could not be faked. Especially when Lio’s body had desiccated, shriveling up afterward. He’d even burned it, for fuck’s sake.
And yet…
Could a vampire’s death be faked?
“Laurent?”
He jerked, blinking. “Fuck. I’m sorry, little flower. I got…distracted.” How long had he been sitting here?
“It’s all right.” She padded barefoot across the rug and slowly dropped down onto his lap. The tension in his chest released. Her side pressed against him as she stared up at him. “This Lio thing is really bothering you, isn’t it?”
“Is it that obvious?” His attempt at a joke fell flat.
She frowned, tracing a line between his eyebrows with her finger. “You always get this here, when you’re upset about something. You’re so good at hiding your emotions most of the time. But this always gives it away.”
Warmth spread in his chest, that she would notice something so small. Sure, he’d noticed many tells about her. But her noticing this…it felt special.
He rubbed his palm along her thigh.
“Want to talk about it?” she asked.
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” He bit down on his jaw until his teeth ached.
“How about we go to the kitchen and you make me some hot chocolate. Then, if you want to talk about it, you can?”
“That…” He swallowed. It sounded perfect, actually.
She was young, so young, compared to his years.
Yet, he found himself wanting to confide in her.
And why wouldn’t he? Of anyone, she carried his memories.
The others might know his life from having spent years beside him, but she knew his life because the memories she carried belonged to him, were felt by him, experienced by him.
“Hot chocolate it is,” he decided, scooping her up and setting her on her feet. She let out a soft huff, her face settling into something happy.
The kitchen was dark. Catina had retired for the evening. She spent most of her nights reading beside the fire. He’d caught her at it more times than he could count in years past. Mystery books were her favorite.
Laurent lifted Lily and set her on the countertop. She gasped, then laughed. “You look so beautiful in that dress,” he said, taking her hand and kissing her palm. Her face went from happy to hungry in an instant. Her scent, too. “Patience, little flower.”
He stepped back, looking up at her. Like this, she was slightly taller. He resisted the urge to spread her thighs and stand between them, close enough to feel her body against his.
Instead, he busied himself around the kitchen, gathering the items he needed. Soon it smelled like milk and chocolate. “Would you like anything extra? Peppermint, perhaps?”
She made a humming noise. “Nope. Just plain hot chocolate is perfect. With whipped cream, of course.”
“Of course,” he agreed, fighting the twitch of his lips.
After pouring two mugs, he scooped her off the counter and settled her on the wooden bench that spanned the length of the trestle table. He sat beside her, facing her and framing her between his thighs.
Her mouth puckered as she blew on the hot chocolate, urging it to cool.
“Lio was precious to me,” he said after a few moments.
She stilled but didn’t turn, giving him space to speak.
“Of all my children, he was my second favorite after Zola. But fondness wasn’t enough to appoint him my heir.
He was too young. Marco was the better fit, and I’d been preparing him for the role for decades. Not…not the way my father prepared me.”
Some of this, Lily would know. They didn’t usually talk about the memories she carried. Occasionally she let something slip, allowing him to draw his own conclusions. So he spoke as if she knew nothing of this particular history.
“When I named Marco my heir, Lio was…not happy. His forgiveness, though he claimed to give it, was mocking. We…grew apart. Rather, he grew distant. I tried to keep him close. That was part of why I moved to Braxton.” He shook his head, hating to recall those troubled days.
“Lio’s anger made him careless. He murdered one of Val Bardanes’s children, a prominent daughter.
I always believed it was a lovers’ spat.
Val was out for blood. Lio paid the price.
I could do nothing, unless I wished to start a war.
Our truce with House Bardanes was hanging by a thread. ” He shook his head.
Vampire law was simple. An eye for an eye. Val Bardanes had been within his right to do what he’d done.
“I didn’t like the Bardanes family,” Lily mused. “When I met them at the ball. I like them even less now.”
He grunted. “I saw him die, Lily, right after he admitted to his crime in front of an audience. One of Bardanes’s henchmen carried out the punishment.
I watched his heart get ripped from his chest. Watched his body desiccate.
” Lily shuddered. He reached for her, running his fingers through her hair before settling a hand at the base of her spine for comfort.
Somehow, he knew she was remembering what he’d done to Henrietta.