Shadow's Claim
Page 81
That shouldn't sound so utterly appealing.
"You're in a prime position, dragă."
"I . . . am?"
"If there are no Vrekeners, then you'll walk out there and reclaim this place from your enemies. If they are here-which I'm hoping for-you'll get to witness firsthand what happens to those who think to harm my female. Win-win; either way makes for a memorable picnic," he said dryly, his lips curling.
She stunned herself when she almost smiled in return. Maybe the connection that continued to grow between her and Daciano didn't leave any room for emptiness-or for fear.
She gazed out at the murky glade and back. Before the rain comes the clear. "Vampire, we could go together."
A sharp shake of his head. "You go alone."
She shoved a braid out of her face. "Oh, come on!" This mouse simply wasn't prepared to scurry into a clearing surrounded by trees, beneath a concealing fog.
And when that fog broke? What sight would greet her as she peered up at the sky? She called to mind the horrific image of a plummeting Vrekener. She imagined the rush of air from angry wings.
Win-win? She would look up and be met with either terror-or beauty.
Even with the vampire here, this would be a trial by fire.
Daciano eased closer to her, again muddling her mind with his mouthwatering scent. At her ear, he murmured, "Bett, I've dealt death in forests all over the Lore. Whenever I'm about to strike, animals, and even insects, go quiet. Listen."
She heard a cacophony of familiar sounds. Unperturbed owls, happily squeaking bats, the steady buzz of insects.
"You see so much," he said. "Now listen to these creatures and be assured: no predators await."
Everything out here was going on with business as usual. Everything but silly Bettina, standing frozen, too afraid to walk twenty-five feet while the impassive world marched on.
Screw-this.
As if he'd sensed her capitulation, Daciano wrapped his hand around hers and escorted her to the folly stairs. "I'll meet you out there."
Am I really going to do this? Sober?
He seemed to think so. Apparently, so did some part of her she scarcely recognized.
With Daciano holding her hand, she descended the first stair.
And the second.
After a deep breath, she conquered the final one-but she curled her fingers to keep hold of his until the last moment. . . .
Chapter 36
Just as her boot met the spongy ground, she lost that contact with the vampire and faltered, gazing back over her shoulder.
But pride lit Daciano's masculine face, his green eyes aglow with it, his chest bowed.
Great. Now I have to do this thing, if only for more of that addictive look.
The glade lay ahead. She swallowed. How had she not noticed that the trunks and roots of those trees were so monstrous, that the fog was so creepy?
But the sounds were still raucous. Seize it!
The twenty-five feet were the longest of her life. Her thoughts raced, keeping pace with her frantic heartbeat: Before the rain comes the clear. Terror or beauty? Daciano is nearby. He'll annihilate any Vrekeners. Nice picnic, nice picnic. Vrekener torture.
And then . . . she was in the glade, shoulders hunched-but still there.
"I-I made it," she tentatively called, half disbelieving. "Out to the middle."
"And so you did, love," he called back. He couldn't possibly sound prouder.
Within seconds, a break opened in the fog bank, just as she'd known it would. A downdraft of warm air dissipated the mist, as if in the eye of a hurricane. She was in the middle of a tunnel of clear.
She swallowed. Terror or beauty? With all the courage she could muster, she lifted her face.
Bettina didn't find attackers; she saw . . . a scene from dreams.
"Vampire, you're going to want to see-"
He was already at her side.
Above them, the nearly full moon was a silvery coin. Fireflies as big as Bettina's hand hovered in the sky, glowing gold, leaving tracers of light. Fluorescent crimson petals spun in the gentle vortex, twinkling red lights. Glossy leaves swirled down leisurely, moonlight striking their surface. . . .
I made it here, and I was rewarded. What other rewards had she missed out on?
She felt something shifting inside her chest.
Was she ready to traipse around town by herself? Not quite. Was she healed from her fear? Uh-uh. But right now, she felt none.
And she knew she'd turned the corner toward recovering.
Daciano didn't say anything for long moments, just seemed to marvel at the sight above them. Never looking down, he reached for her hand again, clasping it in his. "You're lifting a film from my eyes, Bett. I never want to go back to the way I was before."
She stopped looking at the sky, turning her attention to something just as remarkable-the vampire's face tipped up to the moon.
So handsome she nearly lost her breath.
His eyes were heavy-lidded as he admired the scene, as if he was experiencing bliss.
Dear gods, that's how he looks at me.
Sensing her gaze on him, he turned to stare down at her-and sure enough, his expression didn't change.
Dalit. Again that word entered her consciousness. Lightning. In quaint old Demonish, it also meant the bolt of desire one felt-before falling in love.
Could she leave behind her feelings for Caspion and allow new ones to grow for this gorgeous, patient, brave vampire?
Words tumbled from her lips: "What would you do if I died? If I was . . . murdered?"
His brows drew together. "I don't want to speak of that."
"You're in a prime position, dragă."
"I . . . am?"
"If there are no Vrekeners, then you'll walk out there and reclaim this place from your enemies. If they are here-which I'm hoping for-you'll get to witness firsthand what happens to those who think to harm my female. Win-win; either way makes for a memorable picnic," he said dryly, his lips curling.
She stunned herself when she almost smiled in return. Maybe the connection that continued to grow between her and Daciano didn't leave any room for emptiness-or for fear.
She gazed out at the murky glade and back. Before the rain comes the clear. "Vampire, we could go together."
A sharp shake of his head. "You go alone."
She shoved a braid out of her face. "Oh, come on!" This mouse simply wasn't prepared to scurry into a clearing surrounded by trees, beneath a concealing fog.
And when that fog broke? What sight would greet her as she peered up at the sky? She called to mind the horrific image of a plummeting Vrekener. She imagined the rush of air from angry wings.
Win-win? She would look up and be met with either terror-or beauty.
Even with the vampire here, this would be a trial by fire.
Daciano eased closer to her, again muddling her mind with his mouthwatering scent. At her ear, he murmured, "Bett, I've dealt death in forests all over the Lore. Whenever I'm about to strike, animals, and even insects, go quiet. Listen."
She heard a cacophony of familiar sounds. Unperturbed owls, happily squeaking bats, the steady buzz of insects.
"You see so much," he said. "Now listen to these creatures and be assured: no predators await."
Everything out here was going on with business as usual. Everything but silly Bettina, standing frozen, too afraid to walk twenty-five feet while the impassive world marched on.
Screw-this.
As if he'd sensed her capitulation, Daciano wrapped his hand around hers and escorted her to the folly stairs. "I'll meet you out there."
Am I really going to do this? Sober?
He seemed to think so. Apparently, so did some part of her she scarcely recognized.
With Daciano holding her hand, she descended the first stair.
And the second.
After a deep breath, she conquered the final one-but she curled her fingers to keep hold of his until the last moment. . . .
Chapter 36
Just as her boot met the spongy ground, she lost that contact with the vampire and faltered, gazing back over her shoulder.
But pride lit Daciano's masculine face, his green eyes aglow with it, his chest bowed.
Great. Now I have to do this thing, if only for more of that addictive look.
The glade lay ahead. She swallowed. How had she not noticed that the trunks and roots of those trees were so monstrous, that the fog was so creepy?
But the sounds were still raucous. Seize it!
The twenty-five feet were the longest of her life. Her thoughts raced, keeping pace with her frantic heartbeat: Before the rain comes the clear. Terror or beauty? Daciano is nearby. He'll annihilate any Vrekeners. Nice picnic, nice picnic. Vrekener torture.
And then . . . she was in the glade, shoulders hunched-but still there.
"I-I made it," she tentatively called, half disbelieving. "Out to the middle."
"And so you did, love," he called back. He couldn't possibly sound prouder.
Within seconds, a break opened in the fog bank, just as she'd known it would. A downdraft of warm air dissipated the mist, as if in the eye of a hurricane. She was in the middle of a tunnel of clear.
She swallowed. Terror or beauty? With all the courage she could muster, she lifted her face.
Bettina didn't find attackers; she saw . . . a scene from dreams.
"Vampire, you're going to want to see-"
He was already at her side.
Above them, the nearly full moon was a silvery coin. Fireflies as big as Bettina's hand hovered in the sky, glowing gold, leaving tracers of light. Fluorescent crimson petals spun in the gentle vortex, twinkling red lights. Glossy leaves swirled down leisurely, moonlight striking their surface. . . .
I made it here, and I was rewarded. What other rewards had she missed out on?
She felt something shifting inside her chest.
Was she ready to traipse around town by herself? Not quite. Was she healed from her fear? Uh-uh. But right now, she felt none.
And she knew she'd turned the corner toward recovering.
Daciano didn't say anything for long moments, just seemed to marvel at the sight above them. Never looking down, he reached for her hand again, clasping it in his. "You're lifting a film from my eyes, Bett. I never want to go back to the way I was before."
She stopped looking at the sky, turning her attention to something just as remarkable-the vampire's face tipped up to the moon.
So handsome she nearly lost her breath.
His eyes were heavy-lidded as he admired the scene, as if he was experiencing bliss.
Dear gods, that's how he looks at me.
Sensing her gaze on him, he turned to stare down at her-and sure enough, his expression didn't change.
Dalit. Again that word entered her consciousness. Lightning. In quaint old Demonish, it also meant the bolt of desire one felt-before falling in love.
Could she leave behind her feelings for Caspion and allow new ones to grow for this gorgeous, patient, brave vampire?
Words tumbled from her lips: "What would you do if I died? If I was . . . murdered?"
His brows drew together. "I don't want to speak of that."
