Chapter 36
Thirty-Six
“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Cally stood before him in his room, her knees trembling as if they meant to fold in penance.
“For what, ma chérie?” Antoine had his fingers stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, the way he always did, cording his forearms. His T-shirt pulled tight across his chest and shoulders. “Going off alone on revenge? Not telling me about Darian? Lying to me?”
Cally flinched at the lack of anger in his tone. “All of that, yes. But the goddamn bond scares me the most. Darian said I could control you. I wanted you to come, and you came… but I didn’t do it deliberately, I swear!”
“Yes, the bond.” He drew a slow breath and sighed. “It is… unexpected.”
“I hate it!” she declared, her chin coming up.
He raised an eyebrow. “You do? You would prefer we were not bonded?”
“No, that’s not what I—” She chewed her lip. “I love you. Of course I want to be bonded to you. It’s the control thing I hate. No one should be…” She couldn’t voice it again. That horrible, utter control.
“What, ma chérie? Bound against their will to another?”
“Yes, exactly! Oh God, Antoine, I’m so sorry.”
“Like a marked chattel, perhaps?” he said, wry resignation softening his features as he watched her with a gentleness she didn’t feel she deserved.
She blinked as his words sank in. There was a parallel, but… “It’s not the same.” She hunched inward. “It’s… so much worse.”
“Why? Because I did it deliberately, and you didn’t?”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I—” She caught his teasing tone, and stared at him in disbelief. “You’re not… angry?”
“A little.” His gaze sharpened. “Half of me wants to bend you over the bed and spank your ass, but the other half wants to take you into the bathroom and clean the blood off your skin.”
She shivered at the images his words conjured. “Either works.”
His lips curled in amusement. “You won’t forgive yourself, will you? But I forgive you, ma chérie.”
“I’ll never lie to you again,” she vowed, stressing every word.
“I know.” He held her gaze. “Let me confirm. Did you not tell me about the Order because you thought I would seek them out?”
“Yes, exactly. I couldn’t bear the thought of you taking them on and getting hurt.”
“And because I wasn’t quite myself?”
She hesitated too long, unable to deny it. “You’d only just got back,” she said instead. “It’s still only been a week.”
“So you lied to protect me.”
She squirmed, hating the excuse. “It’s still not okay.”
“True. But it is a reason.”
“I’m sorry, Antoine. I have no justification. I should’ve trusted you.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I mean.” He reached for her hand, tugging her gently with him as he walked backward toward the en suite. “Come. I don’t want to smell that blood on you any longer.”
She let him lead her into the bathroom, then sat where he put her on the edge of the tub. He filled the sink with warm water, wet a washcloth, then knelt before her and dabbed carefully at her face. His touch was gentle, his focus unwavering.
“Does this hurt?” he asked, as he wiped dried blood from her injured cheek.
“A little, but it’s healing already.” She worried at her lip. “Do I look different?”
“No, and you won’t, either.” He gestured to himself. “Do I have any scars?”
He didn’t and she knew it, but she pretended uncertainty. “I don’t remember. Maybe you could…” She pawed at his T-shirt.
Antoine grinned and batted her hand away.
“Don’t distract me, I’m taking care of you.
” He wet the washcloth again, and pressed it soothingly to her face.
“You will heal like vampires do, only more slowly.” He paused in mid-wipe.
“Actually, that is if you were just a marked chattel. With our bond and your witch magic too, your healing is even faster. But if you are worried, don’t be.
You will be your usual beautiful self by morning. ”
That was comforting. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“Have I not told you so before?”
She smiled, ignoring the ache it caused in her cheek. “You might have done. I’ve forgotten.”
He sat back on his heels and regarded her, for so long that she began to feel uncomfortable. “Your eyes,” he said at last. “So gray, so striking. I think they are what I notice first.”
“Pretty eyes, huh?” She’d take it.
“And lips. I do like your mouth.”
She self-consciously sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, now wishing she hadn’t asked.
“On balance, you look better when your face is not mottled with yellow and green bruises.”
The moment broke. She lowered her eyes and swallowed. “Well, yes. It was a stupid time to ask.”
“Ma chérie, I thought you beautiful the first night I saw you. Every day since, the impression has only grown.”
“Now you’re just working your smooth French charisma.”
“I mean every word.” His lips twitched. “Although, truth be told, the thing I find most beautiful about you is the way you writhe.”
Heat rushed to her face, and she couldn’t meet his teasing eyes. “That’s on you, Mr. Vampire. I don’t writhe for anyone else.”
Antoine carefully set down his cloth, his movements stiff and betraying a sudden tension. “On that note—poor timing as it is—did you happen to observe Darian’s… enthusiasm when I bit him?”
“Do you mean the way he looked like he was about to declare his undying love?”
Antoine grimaced. “A repulsive thought, but yes.”
“I just assumed it was your—” Cally stopped, her eyes startled open. “—serum.”
“Mmm. Would you mind if I had a small taste of you, ma chérie? I would like to know if it has indeed returned.”
“You never have to ask.” She lifted her chin, pulling down the neck of her sweater.
His fingers entwined with hers. “Your wrist will suffice.”
She blinked. “You’ve never fed from there.”
“I don’t need to feed. This is just an experiment.” He bent over her arm, his hair falling forward.
“No.” She drew back her hand. “Serum or not, I don’t want you to feed from there.” She tilted her head to the side and pulled her sweater away, wishing she hadn’t worn something with a high neck. But it stretched well enough. “Please, Antoine.”
“If that is your wish.” He rose and she spread her knees for him, welcoming him in as he drew close. His palm cupped the side of her neck, but he paused to gaze into her eyes. “So very beautiful, mon amour.”
He hadn’t used that endearment since before his entombment, and her heart flipped. “I love you,” she whispered. “I will always love you.”
“And I love you, my bold, reckless, stubborn bonded.” He leaned forward, his lips brushing the delicate skin beneath her ear. “My memory may be hazy,” he murmured, “but I haven’t just fed from your neck, have I?”
Her breath caught, remembering him between her legs, and the exquisite sting of his teeth in her inner thigh. “No,” she breathed. “You can feed from me there, too.”
“Only if my serum has indeed returned.” He closed his mouth gently over the side of her neck, tongue flicking at the pulse point. Then his teeth pierced her flesh, the hurt an ache she welcomed.
Cally felt him draw a mouthful of her blood, and almost in the same instant, the rush of pleasure that filled her mind. She gasped, clutching at his head, holding him to her. “Oh yes,” she breathed. “Oh absolutely yes.”
He took very little, only sipping from her, his tongue playing against the wound, pain and pleasure mingling in that potent way, and her fingers tightened in his T-shirt.
All too soon he stopped, his tongue flicking over her again, this time to heal the wound.
She felt it close even before he drew back, his eyes lilac but returning to blue as he smiled at her.
“That is reassuring, mon amour. I was concerned I had lost something that would not return.”
She held his gaze, letting the depth of her feeling show in her eyes. “So long as you are here and smiling at me like that, it’s all I need.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I have returned, stronger than before, and no force will take me from your side.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.” She took his hand in hers, and pushed it to her cheek. “There’s nowhere you can go that I wouldn’t find you anyway.”
“Nor you, I.” His eyes took on that intensity she liked so much. “I admit I still find the two-way nature of our bond surprising, but I am thankful for it.”
“Damn right.” She paused, biting her lip. “But what of this compulsion business?”
His expression was thoughtful, and he reached up to push an errant curl back behind her ear.
“For now, it is nothing but a tingle that hints at your desires, and I almost ignored it to our detriment. Perhaps it will grow over time, but I will say to you again what I said before: there is no one else I would trust with such power over me.” He leaned in and brushed her lips with his. “And I do trust you, mon amour.”
She nodded once, thoughtfully, then again with more relief. “It’s only a tingle?”
“Yes. Like a sense that you want something.”
“I do want something,” she said playfully. Then she yawned, covering her mouth with an apologetic smile. “But I’ve no idea what time it is.”
“About three in the morning. Come, I will tuck you in.”
She let him pull her to her feet. “Will you stay with me? At least for a while?”
“Of course, ma chérie.” He tugged her rollneck sweater up, and she raised her arms in cooperation, blinking sleepily, the events of the day suddenly catching up with her.
It was nice to let him take over, and he undressed her with care, fingers brushing against her skin as he did, each touch sending a comforting flutter through her body even though she was too tired to truly enjoy it.
He knelt before her, placing a kiss on her bare stomach as he unbuttoned her jeans, and she held on to his shoulders for support.
“Is Belle still downstairs?”
He stilled in the act of pulling her jeans from one foot, then resumed as if nothing had happened. “I believe so.”
“Does she make you uncomfortable?”
“One would be foolish to fly too close to the sun.” He rose, his task complete, and swept her into his arms.
She pressed a hand against his chest; not to stop him, but to feel his body through his thin T-shirt. “I’m not too tired to walk, you know.”
“I know, but I like to carry you.”
She laid her head on his shoulder and let him. “Belle is interested in you, isn’t she?”
“More so than I had first thought.” The words sounded flat, like he found them distasteful.
“I thought she’d left, and gone back to Europe.”
“So did I, ma chérie. Evidently, we were misinformed.”
“She’s here for you.” Cally didn’t phrase it as a question.
“Oui.”
“What does that mean?”
He settled her on the bed and pulled the duvet over her, then walked around the other side. “It may be too early to be sure,” he said as he sat and pulled off his boots. “I will do my best to navigate those waters carefully.”
“She won’t hurt you, though?”
“No, I don’t think so.” A shrug, his back still to her. “Though, with Belle, that’s relative.”
Cally fell quiet, watching him as he rose and pulled off his clothes. “I wish I were more powerful. Enough to stop anyone from hurting you.”
“In time, together, we will grow that powerful.” His lips curled at the corners. “I admit, the idea does not concern me.”
“Nor me,” she said quietly. “It can’t come soon enough.”
He climbed in beside her, and she turned away from him and pushed back into his chest. “The book Eve found. Was that where you learned the spell you used on Nico?”
“Yes.” She pulled his arm around her, and he cupped her breast, gentle and comforting.
“Did it come from the Order?”
She tensed, but his question had carried no implication of blame, merely curiosity. “Yes, it did.”
“And now she has more.” He placed a kiss on her shoulder. “This is good. You will grow into a powerful witch.” His hand slipped down to her waist, tugging her back against him more snugly, then rose to cup her breast once more. “For now, rest, mon amour. I will keep you safe.”
“Don’t keep Belle waiting too long,” she said through a yawn. “Just stay until I fall asleep.”
She didn’t hear his reply, or feel him move when he left.