“She’d worn a white dress with small green flowers. White satin slippers. She lay on the floor of his den, blood everywhere. She’d fought him; he made sure to tell me that. I came in—found them—just as he’d drained the life from her.” His expression was vacant, as if he stared at a mental photograph of that moment.
“He’d been grinning. ‘She fought me,’ he’d said. ‘You’d have been proud of her, for the fight in her.’” Ethan paused, tapped fingers against his knee. “He left me there with her, with her body limp on the ground.
“He’d wanted me to try to change her—or beg him to change her—to create another vampire he could manipulate. That was the way he operated, feeding on guilt and sadness and fear. She didn’t deserve that, to be made one of us, to be dragged from her world into ours. So I didn’t do it.”
“She died.”
He lifted dark eyes to mine. “Did she? Or did I kill her? Did I kill her and others, Merit?” He shook his head sharply, as if that might soothe his pain, clear the emotions from his face. “That’s when I left him. And I didn’t bite another human, didn’t make another vampire, until I became Master of this House.”
“Nicole knew about her?”
“She knew about all of it. About Balthasar. About the women. Nicole was there the night Persephone—that was her name: Persephone—died. And now, after biding her time for so many years, she’s claiming what she believes is due to her—a crown.”
We sat in heavy, impenetrable silence.
He needed, I knew, a decision from me. Unfair or not, there it was. Either I accepted who he was—good, bad, and ugly—or I walked away now. And that was the option he’d expected I’d choose.
I looked at him, found his gaze on me, fear in his eyes. “You were afraid I’d run from you if I knew who you’d been?”
After a moment, he nodded.
“You stopped so you wouldn’t hurt anyone else.”
He opened his mouth, closed it again. “Yes. Although at times like these, it hardly feels sufficient.”
“That’s because you care. Because Balthasar couldn’t strip your humanity away. Not completely, even as much as you like to think otherwise.”
And that was the sum of him. He might not ever truly forgive himself for the man—the boy—he’d been for so many years, for the things he’d been taught by a vampire bent on turning his pupils into the same monster he’d become. Ethan had tried in the ensuing centuries to make himself into something more than he’d been. He was still trying to make a better future for his vampires; that was why we were sitting on the floor of our closet as dawn crawled toward us.
I’d made my decision long ago. I leaned forward, met Ethan’s gaze directly. “I have no blinders, Ethan. I see you exactly as you are.”
The love in his eyes, the green fire of them, was nearly blinding. Relief and magic mixed and danced in the air.
“God, but I love you.”
I smiled at him. “Once upon a time, I chose not to be your Consort. I did that because I deserved more, because we both deserved more than that. More than physical release. Because we both deserved love and understanding. And because we are more than the sum of our pasts. Far be it from me to snatch that back from you now.”
He smiled at me. “Far be it from you, Sentinel.”
Silence fell again, this time companionable. “You have to kick her ass in the phys testing.”
Eyebrow arched, he slid me a glance. “I have to ‘kick her ass’?”
“Between you and her, I’d much rather have you in charge.”
“The devil you know?” he asked with a half smile.
“Pretty much.”
We looked at each other for a long time. He still hadn’t touched me, but he’d shared something. We weren’t back on completely solid ground. But we were getting there. And I’d take progress over stagnation, over that barrier, any night of the week.
Ethan looked back, smiled softly. “Will things ever really be easy between us, Merit?”
Not easy, perhaps, but easier.
I reached forward, put a hand on his cheek. “She has no power over you anymore. Over us. Not with your past, not with your regrets.”
I leaned forward and kissed him softly, then left him with his thoughts to change into my pajamas.
It wasn’t yet dawn, but I was emotionally exhausted. I climbed into bed and closed my eyes, felt when he climbed into bed beside me.
We slept together, our arms and legs and bodies entwined, as if we might save each other.
And we forgot completely about the crème brûlée.
Chapter Nineteen
HUNGER GAMES
I woke at dusk the next night with a hunger so fierce I wasn’t capable of naming it. I sat up, found Ethan’s side of the bed empty, but heard the shower running in the bathroom. I pushed back the covers, slid my feet onto the floor, clenched my hands into fists to stop them from shaking.
I rose to my feet, the dull ache at the back of my head a mere whisper compared to the lust for blood that colored my vision. I pushed open the bathroom door, took in Ethan’s long and lean form in the shower, slicked with soap and water.
He must have sensed me, or the magic I was throwing off. His head snapped back, eyes widening. He turned off the spray, opened the door, stepped outside, body gleaming.
My breath hitched at the sight of him, at the sudden silvering of his eyes . . . and his sudden and obvious arousal.
“Merit,” he said, the word a low and lusty growl. We were predators in a haze of bloodlust, facing each other like warriors prepared for another battle.
“Ethan,” I managed, gripping the doorjamb to stay upright. “Blood.”
He stalked forward, steam rising from his body, and took my face in his hands. His mouth crushed down onto mine, tongue and fangs and lips entwining. We sparred with our kiss, antagonizing and provoking. He was moved by lust, maybe love. I was moved by lust for body and blood. For all that he could offer, and all that I would take.
I pulled back, nipped his lip, caught the bright and sudden smell of blood.
A single drop of vermillion rose on his lip. I lunged forward, the taste of him filling my mouth as his guttural groan filled the air.
“Take me,” he said, arching his neck to offer me access to all of him, to his life’s blood, and the thing I wanted from him alone.
I kissed the smooth and golden skin . . . and then I bit. He cried out, the sound carried on a wave of magic that shook the room as it traveled.