I turned the lock of my door, determined to keep lying fae and witches on the other side. I was exhausted. Hours of crying and utter betrayal were a potent mix. I plonked down on the edge of my bed and lifted my eyes to Jacques’ over-large ones, prominent in his starved face.
“I didn’t have your address.”
The vampire tutted idly. “You know where to find me.”
“Yeah, lingering behind bushes and lamp posts. It wouldn’t surprise me if you were at the ball.”
He grinned his toothy grin. “Perhaps I was.”
I wasn’t in the mood for whatever this was, some game or dance with words. I wanted to lie on my bed and think. I wanted to down a bottle of wine. I wanted to put on a nice dress and find a nice man and work out my rage.
I might not have the dress, but a man had delivered himself to my room.
“Jacques,” I said. “Come in.”
“Quoi?”
“Come in. I’m inviting you in.”
Maybe I was an idiot, letting a vampire into the coven. Maybe I didn’t care anymore.
Slowly, his eyes fixed on me, Jacques lifted one leg, then the other, over the window frame, and hopped down to the floor.
For a heartbeat, I felt like prey. A rabbit facing down a wolf. Maybe I didn’t care about that either. I shoved myself to my feet, closed the distance, and kissed him.
His back collided with the windowsill as I cupped his face, holding his lips against mine. He didn’t fight, but he didn’t reciprocate either.
I pulled my lips from his, barely. “Bite me,” I breathed.
“Aliza, no.”
“You’re hungry. You’re starving. Let me help you.” I had to help someone in this horrible world.
“I cannot.”
“You can. I want you to.” I tilted my head, exposing the side of my neck. He stiffened, tension rolling off him in waves. “I trust you.”
“Oh, mon amour, you shouldn’t.” His pierced lip brushed my skin, the metal hoop cool and smooth, sparking a glittering cascade of shivers over my body.
“You want to.” My voice was pleading and breathy.
He didn’t deny it. Hands drifted to my waist, featherlight. I squirmed, pressing the length of my body against his. My hand slid into his long hair, closing at his scalp, and I turned his head to me.
Our eyes met.
His lips crashed to mine, and for the first time, I registered the chill in his skin, in his tongue as it lapped against mine. I didn’t mind. All I cared about was hiding from the betrayal I would eventually have to face. About freeing myself, proving that I made my own choices. That I was nobody’s pawn.
Jacques twisted, and then I was the one pinned with my back to the open window. The twilight breeze caught my hair, teasing it out over the ledge. He arched me onto the sill, his mouth travelling down over my throat. A thrill of fear surged through me, swirling headily with the touch of his cold hands as they swept down my hips. I squirmed beneath his touch, my skin warring between trying to evade the chill and wanting to feel more. Feeling won. I lifted one leg, wrapping it around his hips, pushing my body against his. He gripped my thigh, his nails biting the flesh exposed by my shorts.
His other hand dragged up my top, and I lifted my arms as it slid like liquid over my head. Thank God I’d worn a pretty bra when I went hiking. I felt everything through the lace as Jacques dropped his head lower, kissing and nipping, and a moan slipped past my lips.
As though the sound broke whatever restraint he still clung to, Jacques ground his leather clad hips against mine, and before I could so much as gasp a breath, he was at my neck.
Sharp, white-hot agony erupted as his fangs sank into my flesh. I tried to move, but I was pinned, his hands holding me like vices, one still gripping my thigh, the other pulling my head to the side. But as sticky warmth spread over my shoulder, the pain died away, making room for a strange, weightless pleasure. I was floating, cut adrift in a bubbling sea of need. It rose inside me, drowning my hurt, my anger, my fear. There was only Jacques, and his mouth at my neck, and the blood flowing from me to him. I wanted to give him more. Give him everything.
I whimpered and his fangs sank deeper in response.
How long I ebbed, I couldn’t say. Forever, maybe. I grew limp, the urge to move fading from my limbs. My head might have lolled if Jacques wasn’t holding it in place, cradled in the crook of his wrist. I was as light as a feather, and as heavy as a rock. The world swirled gently around me, blurred and soft as night pressed in, carried on the soothing breeze that danced through the open window.
Distantly, I thought I heard a roar.
Sharp pain cut through my tranquil daze, followed by a spill of warmth down my chest. Jacques was gone. Without him to hold me up, I slid down the stone wall, slumping, half sitting, half sprawling.
My eyes were heavy. I wanted to sleep, but shrieks and hisses drifted slowly between my ears and my brain. My eyelids fluttered. Idris was there. And Jacques. Fighting.
Fighting?
No, they couldn’t do that. Through a veil of mist, I watched the vampire and fae battle, as though in slow motion. Idris was a head taller than Jacques, and I suspected he might be winning. His face was contorted with rage. I couldn’t let him hurt Jacques.
I stirred, trying to shift a little more upright, but without the vampire’s floaty magic, my body wouldn’t cooperate. What was that, shining on the floor? I blinked. Shards of glass. My bleary gaze followed them. Someone had tipped over my dressing table, shattering the mirror.
Irritation flickered somewhere beneath the fog. That was mine. Why did people keep breaking my stuff?
A shadow soared over me. I tried to lift my eyes to follow, but my lids flickered and almost closed.
“Aliza? Aliza!”
It took a long time for my muddy brain to recognise my own name. With immense effort, I shifted my eyes.
