Into the Fire
Page 47
I faked a laugh. “You said you’d been here before. Guess you remembered that this place had a helicopter pad. Glad you thought ahead and borrowed the chopper. Flying sure beats having to drive slow on these narrow, winding mountain roads. Come on, I’ll show you our room,” I said, taking Vlad’s hand.
His demeanor might be icy, but it didn’t surprise me that his flesh felt anything but cold. He could fool some people with this I-care-for-nothing! act, but not me. He only felt this hot when he was unleashing his incredible abilities, in the throes of passion, or really, really upset.
It also didn’t surprise me when he immediately pulled away. “Later. I need to speak with Maximus first.”
Oh no, he didn’t. He might want to continue to wrap himself in bad attitude and fake apathy, but I wasn’t going to let him. “Maximus is busy,” I said. “He changed Gretchen into a vampire yesterday, and she woke up mad as hell on top of being ravenously hungry. You’ll have to wait until dawn to talk to him.”
Both his brows went up on hearing that Gretchen was now a vampire, then that sculpturelike hardness reclaimed his face as he looked over my shoulder. “And who is that?”
I turned, seeing Leotie outlined in the open door of the cabin. “My umpteenth-times-over great grandmother. I have a lot to tell you, Vlad, so if you want to hear it in time to talk to Maximus at dawn, come with me. Besides, it’s freezing out here.”
It was, not that any of us were in danger of catching a cold. Still, I wanted to get him alone so we could talk about how he was really feeling. As if he knew what I intended, Vlad stared at me long enough for me to formulate several convincing arguments if he refused.
But at last, with an arrogant wave, he gestured to the helicopter behind him. “The pilot’s leaving soon to return Mencheres’s helicopter to him. Before he does, see to it that he has someone decent to eat, Martin.”
Marty bristled at being ordered around like a servant, but I grabbed Vlad’s hand and started walking toward the house. I’d apologize to Marty later for Vlad’s rudeness. Right now, I had to seize my opportunity to break through his walls before he reinforced them—or built them any higher.
“Right this way, dear.”
After the briefest possible introduction to Leotie, I had Vlad alone upstairs in the cabin’s master suite. Granted, the walls weren’t thick enough for this to be a truly private conversation, but sometimes the illusion of privacy was all that mattered. To boost that illusion, I locked the door behind us.
He gave me a sardonic look. “If I wanted to leave, a feeble lock couldn’t stop me.”
“No, nor can it keep anyone out who wants in, considering we’re in a house full of vampires,” I replied, shrugging. “Still, like a tie on the doorknob, this is a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign for the rest of them.”
His snort managed to be both elegant and contemptuous. “A tie on the doorknob? As if you brought me up here for sex.”
I hadn’t, but if that was the quickest way to break through his worrisome new walls . . . “What if I said I had?” I asked, holding his stare as I walked over to him.
His eyes were pure, burnished copper, the only green in them coming from the natural band around his irises. “Then I’d say you were a poor liar, as you always have been.”
“Maybe I need to feel you that way to forget everything else for a little while,” I said, challenging him by pushing his coat off his shoulders. “After all, I’ve had an awful day and I know yours was way worse.”
“You know?” His gaze turned steely. “You think I’ve never killed a good man before? I’ve killed thousands of them.”
Was he really going to act as if Samir was just another casualty in one of the countless wars he’d fought in? I wasn’t buying that. I’d seen how Vlad acted when he lost someone he only cared about in general terms because that person had belonged to his line. It had looked nothing like this.
“When you thought I was in denial about Maximus raping me, you told me I couldn’t keep lying to you or myself about it, or the pretense would destroy me.” I held his face in my hands in much the same way he’d held mine all those months ago. “Now I’m telling that to you. Stop lying about what this is doing to you, Vlad. If you don’t, that lie will grow until it poisons you.”
He still said nothing, and his shields remained just as high and impenetrable. My jaw clenched. Why was it so hard for him to admit what we both already knew?
“Or are you blaming me for this?” I suddenly asked. Was that what he didn’t want to tell me? “If you are, it’s okay,” I went on hastily. “I can handle whatever you’re feeling, even if it’s holding me responsible because this more than anything proves your point about your enemies using your love for me against you. I’d probably be mad, too, if I were you, so—”
“I don’t blame you,” he interrupted, brushing me away to pace the short distance that the length of the room provided. “I didn’t have to publicly announce my love for you by marrying you, yet I did, so all the blame for this falls on me.”
“Not all,” I said softly, my heart breaking. “Samir died because of me. That makes it mine, too, and if it hurts me and I only knew him a few months, I know what it’s doing to you.”
“Oh, but you don’t,” he said, and my subconscious felt momentarily seared as a crack formed in his walls, allowing a sliver of his feelings to escape. All too quickly, it was gone, and despite not being able to decipher what he was feeling, that brief flash proved that he was nowhere near as detached as he was pretending to be.
His demeanor might be icy, but it didn’t surprise me that his flesh felt anything but cold. He could fool some people with this I-care-for-nothing! act, but not me. He only felt this hot when he was unleashing his incredible abilities, in the throes of passion, or really, really upset.
It also didn’t surprise me when he immediately pulled away. “Later. I need to speak with Maximus first.”
Oh no, he didn’t. He might want to continue to wrap himself in bad attitude and fake apathy, but I wasn’t going to let him. “Maximus is busy,” I said. “He changed Gretchen into a vampire yesterday, and she woke up mad as hell on top of being ravenously hungry. You’ll have to wait until dawn to talk to him.”
Both his brows went up on hearing that Gretchen was now a vampire, then that sculpturelike hardness reclaimed his face as he looked over my shoulder. “And who is that?”
I turned, seeing Leotie outlined in the open door of the cabin. “My umpteenth-times-over great grandmother. I have a lot to tell you, Vlad, so if you want to hear it in time to talk to Maximus at dawn, come with me. Besides, it’s freezing out here.”
It was, not that any of us were in danger of catching a cold. Still, I wanted to get him alone so we could talk about how he was really feeling. As if he knew what I intended, Vlad stared at me long enough for me to formulate several convincing arguments if he refused.
But at last, with an arrogant wave, he gestured to the helicopter behind him. “The pilot’s leaving soon to return Mencheres’s helicopter to him. Before he does, see to it that he has someone decent to eat, Martin.”
Marty bristled at being ordered around like a servant, but I grabbed Vlad’s hand and started walking toward the house. I’d apologize to Marty later for Vlad’s rudeness. Right now, I had to seize my opportunity to break through his walls before he reinforced them—or built them any higher.
“Right this way, dear.”
After the briefest possible introduction to Leotie, I had Vlad alone upstairs in the cabin’s master suite. Granted, the walls weren’t thick enough for this to be a truly private conversation, but sometimes the illusion of privacy was all that mattered. To boost that illusion, I locked the door behind us.
He gave me a sardonic look. “If I wanted to leave, a feeble lock couldn’t stop me.”
“No, nor can it keep anyone out who wants in, considering we’re in a house full of vampires,” I replied, shrugging. “Still, like a tie on the doorknob, this is a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign for the rest of them.”
His snort managed to be both elegant and contemptuous. “A tie on the doorknob? As if you brought me up here for sex.”
I hadn’t, but if that was the quickest way to break through his worrisome new walls . . . “What if I said I had?” I asked, holding his stare as I walked over to him.
His eyes were pure, burnished copper, the only green in them coming from the natural band around his irises. “Then I’d say you were a poor liar, as you always have been.”
“Maybe I need to feel you that way to forget everything else for a little while,” I said, challenging him by pushing his coat off his shoulders. “After all, I’ve had an awful day and I know yours was way worse.”
“You know?” His gaze turned steely. “You think I’ve never killed a good man before? I’ve killed thousands of them.”
Was he really going to act as if Samir was just another casualty in one of the countless wars he’d fought in? I wasn’t buying that. I’d seen how Vlad acted when he lost someone he only cared about in general terms because that person had belonged to his line. It had looked nothing like this.
“When you thought I was in denial about Maximus raping me, you told me I couldn’t keep lying to you or myself about it, or the pretense would destroy me.” I held his face in my hands in much the same way he’d held mine all those months ago. “Now I’m telling that to you. Stop lying about what this is doing to you, Vlad. If you don’t, that lie will grow until it poisons you.”
He still said nothing, and his shields remained just as high and impenetrable. My jaw clenched. Why was it so hard for him to admit what we both already knew?
“Or are you blaming me for this?” I suddenly asked. Was that what he didn’t want to tell me? “If you are, it’s okay,” I went on hastily. “I can handle whatever you’re feeling, even if it’s holding me responsible because this more than anything proves your point about your enemies using your love for me against you. I’d probably be mad, too, if I were you, so—”
“I don’t blame you,” he interrupted, brushing me away to pace the short distance that the length of the room provided. “I didn’t have to publicly announce my love for you by marrying you, yet I did, so all the blame for this falls on me.”
“Not all,” I said softly, my heart breaking. “Samir died because of me. That makes it mine, too, and if it hurts me and I only knew him a few months, I know what it’s doing to you.”
“Oh, but you don’t,” he said, and my subconscious felt momentarily seared as a crack formed in his walls, allowing a sliver of his feelings to escape. All too quickly, it was gone, and despite not being able to decipher what he was feeling, that brief flash proved that he was nowhere near as detached as he was pretending to be.
