Текст книги "Darkest distiny"

Автор книги: Pepper winters

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

Chapter Thirty-One

LUCIEN HAD BEEN QUIET, WHICH WAS his usual mood after blood drawing.

He sipped a drink while resting in his window seat, his eyes closed as if he was sleeping but his hands bunched as if he suffered rising claustrophobia from being trapped.

I’d stayed out of his way as much as I could, afraid to meet his eyes in case he guessed what happened last night and the thievery of his blood.

I focused on cleaning outside: sweeping his private courtyard, weeding the flowerbeds around the wall, and finding I actually liked working with plants. My headache hadn’t gone—I doubted it ever would—but it eased enough that I’d had a rather pleasant time.

Especially as Whisper kept me company, lounging with his tail and front paw dangling over a branch where he lay in the only tree.

By the time I heard Lucien in the kitchen, I’d done most of the chores outside and even planted a few veggie seeds I’d found in the small shed holding the pruning gear.

With dusk falling and my fingernails black from soil, I brushed off the dirt on my knees, shook out the creases in my calico linen dress, and headed toward the tree in the centre of the courtyard.

“I’m leaving.” Smiling into the branches, I tugged Whisper’s tail gently. “You’ll visit me tonight?”

The huge cat yawned with his giant fangs.

I took that as a yes.

Which meant I would actually sleep. I hated that he’d become a strange sort of sleeping pill. My love of napping had faded in the last few weeks, thanks to the other girls getting desperate.

Another few bodies had been removed, steadily erasing the would-be killers. But the more Lucien exterminated, the bolder the ones left behind became.

Not for the first time, I wondered if it would be safer to move into Lucien’s palace. To claim a wing for myself instead of heading to my pavilion on the outskirts of his estate every night.

Squeezing Whisper’s tail one last time, I headed toward the patio doors.

The heavy thud of the panther dropping behind me hinted he’d left his snoozing spot and followed. I shut the door once we were both inside and pulled the curtains, transforming the space into a sanctuary instead of a prison.

Lamps and lanterns cast a golden glow over the huge library shelves, the couch with its panther-shaped divot, the half-set chessboard, and the tower of books by the window seat. The room seemed homely and calm but after spending twenty years in this place without leaving, it would be just as sickening as a jail cell.

Shaking away those thoughts and shoving aside the pity I felt, I left Whisper to prowl toward the kitchen to find Lucien and slipped out the door—

“Ahhhh!” Clutching my racing heart, I staggered backward.

“Are you always this reactive?” Lucien narrowed his eyes where he stood in the middle of the corridor as if he’d just returned from somewhere.

Dropping my hand, I rolled my eyes. “Only when someone scares me.”

“You’re the one who appeared, not me.”

“Weren’t you in the kitchen?”

“I was but now I’m here.”

I exhaled and forced a smile. “What are you doing lurking about?”

“I was coming to find you actually.”

“Me?”

He nodded, his eyes locking on mine with an intensity I didn’t like. “I couldn’t find you.”

“I was in the courtyard.”

His gaze dragged over my dirt-streaked dress. His jaw flexed. “You’re filthy.”

“That’s why I was going home. To shower.”

Home?

This place wasn’t my home, no matter how much of a routine I fell into.

“Not yet you’re not,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“Come with me.” He grabbed my wrist and dragged me back the way I’d come. Whisper grunted in welcome as Lucien carted me toward the centre of the living room where the massive chandelier shone the brightest.

Placing me in front of him, I waited for him to let me go.

He didn’t.

His dark gaze locked on mine, piercing and intense. I swallowed hard as his fingers tightened around my wrist. My pulse slowly climbed, the longer we stared at each other.

Whisper glanced between us, nudging my hip with his nose, breaking the spell between me and his master.

Lucien let me go with a cough.

My cheeks burned.

Nervousness made me blurt, “What are you doing?”

His lips tightened, hard and unamused. “Teaching you something.”

“Teaching me...” I studied him, trying to ignore how good he looked dressed all in black, how severe and deadly. My traitorous heart skipped a beat that had nothing to do with him dragging me back here.

My mind fled back to last night and the accusations Evelyn and Lydia had hurled.

“You expect us to believe he’s that generous to you for no reason?”

“What is it about you that he finds so tolerable?”

Their voices stuck in my head like a thorn...because they had a point.

Why was he so generous to me that he’d willingly bled himself? What made me so different, apart from being able to ease some of his pain?

“What are you thinking?” He leaned forward, his spine curving until our faces were close. His nostrils flared as if scenting all the things I wouldn’t reveal. “Tell me. Why have you gone...sad?”

“Sad?” I backed up, unable to handle his scalding intensity. “I’m not sad.”

“Are you angry that I haven’t let you leave?”

The way he said it...the way he swooped back to his tall height with a callous sneer—like he was guarding himself. His words were sharp, but his eyes were pained.

My heart crashed against my ribs in shock. Delusion. Definitely had to be delusion.

The way he exhaled sharply, straightened too quickly, his careful mask slamming back into place—it hurtled me back to the almost-kiss we’d shared in my room when he’d thrown me on the bed and used me as a strange sort of painkiller.

I’d felt things that night.

I still felt those things but...I’d thought they were one-sided.

However, the way he watched me—the way the air went thick and tingly the longer we stared.

I stopped breathing.

He...he couldn’t feel the same, could he?

The thought was utterly absurd, yet...there was something...

The longer we stood there, just the two of us—like it had been for over a month—I began to wonder.

And my stupid, stupid heart skipped a beat.

“Now you look afraid.” His hair dangled over his forehead as he tipped close again. “What the hell is the matter with you?” His temper appeared. “Tell me.”

I shouldn’t.

I really shouldn’t but...I had no control when he looked at me like that: wary and guarded but intensely curious—like a feral animal wanting to trust but still unable to.

“I...”

“Yes?” He cocked an eyebrow.

My stomach fluttered. Did he have to be so effortlessly gorgeous? So dangerous to my sanity?

Common sense flew far, far away.

“I need to ask you a question,” I blurted.

His arms crossed tight across his chest, biceps straining against his black shirt. “What question?”

God, why?

Why did I say that?

I wanted to take it all back. To tell him to forget it but...after so long on my own. After accepting that I might never have the strength to care for someone again after losing my parents so horrifically, I didn’t want fear to stop me.

I didn’t care that I was trapped in here with him.

I didn’t care all of this was like some nightmarish fairytale.

For now, we had no choice but to be caged together but...what if we no longer had to be enemies?

Forcing myself to meet his eyes, I brought up the one thing I wasn’t going to. “You gave me your blood yesterday.”

His eyes narrowed. “So?”

“You only permit me to stay by your side—”

“Your point?”

“We’ve spent over a month together—”

“You’re saying you’re bored of me already?”

“And now...now you want to teach me things.” I swallowed hard. “What things?”

Sexual things?

Images exploded in my mind of him adding to my daily duties. Of requesting I service him in other ways.

I blushed as red as a rose.

Not because of the highlight reel my thoughts became on how I could serve him, but because I wasn’t running away screaming like I should.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” I squeaked.

“Like you expect me to order you to your knees and blow me.”

I choked. “A-Are you?”

“Wait.” He went rigid. “Is that what you were thinking?”

I looked away, my cheeks about to catch fire. I wanted to deny it. To bluster and deflect but my mouth betrayed me. “You did say you wanted to teach me something...”

“And you thought it meant how to fuck me?” He laughed bitterly, crossing his arms even tighter.

“Yes. I mean...no.” Nervousness made me trip over truth. “I mean, if you were going to add onto my duties...I suppose I would need to be taught.”

God, what are you saying?!

He went fatally, deadly, lethally still. “You’re saying you’re a virgin?”

My head pounded and a wave of vertigo had me wobbling on the spot. “I have zero experience in the bedroom if that’s what you’re asking.” My vision went a little hazy as my mouth decided to get me killed. “Kind of like you, I suppose.”

“What?!”

Oh my God, shut up!

A rush of sickness made me break out in a sweat. “I mean...it makes sense why you haven’t. I get why you haven’t but...if you’ve changed your mind, then—”

“You’ll help relieve me of my celibacy?” he said so quietly, so coldly it crackled with frost.

He’s going to kill me.

Even Whisper pushed himself between us as if trying to defuse the electrical tension.

My eyesight went grey on the edges; I tripped to the couch. Sitting heavily on the arm, I pressed my face into my hands.

It would be better if he did kill me.

At least then I wouldn’t have to die of embarrassment.

I felt him coming.

Felt the prickle of his energy as it reached out, snatched mine, and twisted us together with stinging chemistry.

“So you’ve avoided me all day—deliberately stayed outside and away from my company—because you think I’m going to drag you into my bed?”

I dared look up.

His face was black as a storm cloud. “Well?”

I didn’t know how long I would be able to withstand his temper and not blackout, but I did my best to be as honest as I could. Honesty was the only thing I had. The only thing that would hopefully save me. “I’ve heard the others gossiping about you. I know they all want to get pregnant and use you. So it makes sense that you flatly refuse to touch them, even though I’m sure you’re lonely.”

“I’d be very, very careful if I were you,” he breathed, his hands balling by his thighs.

I stupidly didn’t heed that warning, panic making me far too chatty. “Then again, you’ve almost eradicated all those who were trying to hurt you and the ones left behind are.... Well, those are the girls who are willing to look after you in any way you want.”

He physically shuddered as if the thought of letting any of them near him sent his skin crawling.

I hated that his reaction made my heart flutter.

That his revulsion to other women only added to my ridiculous notion that...I was different.

God, Rook, will you stop being such an idiot!

“Go on,” he commanded, his chest straining with a harsh breath.

I wanted the floor to open up and eat me.

“Y-You have to admit, we’ve spent a lot of time together lately. You don’t leave when I’m cleaning, you’ve let me into your world, and trust me to keep your secrets—”

“Finish what you were going to say.” His fists shook. “Before you can’t.”

I swallowed hard and had every intention of turning mute, but the final sentence fell off my tongue. “No matter how much you try to scare me, I’ve...grown used to you. I don’t think you’ll hurt me which makes me bolder than I should be. I’ve seen you at your weakest. I’ve seen the way you adore Whisper. I’ve seen you. But...you’ve also seen me. You’ve helped me when I was hurting and gave me your blood to prevent me hurting again. You do care, even if you pride yourself on making it seem like you don’t. Which makes me wonder if...”

“If?” he snarled.

Ugh, just get it over with, seeing as you were stupid enough to start.

Tipping up my chin, I announced, “If you have feelings for me.”

He didn’t move. Not even to breathe. “You’re asking if I like you? What are you? Twelve?”

I flinched as something dark and starving flickered in his stare before being smothered with a mocking scoff.

Before I could reply, he muttered, “Out of all the whores and killers they’ve sent me, you’re the weakest and most useless. You can barely stand upright when having a conversation. You have a tendency of stealing my wine and threaten to pass out if I so much as look at you wrong. You would rather nap than work and have an annoying little habit of distracting me.” He laughed softly. “Do you think I could like those qualities?” He stepped into me, tall and threatening. “That I could like you?”

Swooping to my feet, I backed up.

I almost fell over Whisper as he slunk to my side and pressed against me. “You don’t have to be cruel about it.”

“Is it cruel to tell the truth?”

“It’s cruel to take pleasure in it.”

“I’ve never felt pleasure,” he snapped. “Not once. Not a single fucking day have I ever experienced a single droplet of pleasure or happiness, yet here you are expecting me to command you to give me one.” Stepping into me, he flicked my forehead with his finger. “I fear for what’s going on in that broken brain of yours.”

I froze.

Did he just...flick me?

He shook his head with a chuckle as if my reaction amused him.

He acted like a schoolboy tugging the pigtails of the girl he liked.

It made me even more confused and—

“This is what I wanted to teach you,” he growled, yanking the dagger he’d stolen out of his waistband.

My mouth went dry as he held it up.

The metal glinted with the many lightbulbs from the chandelier above.

I stiffened. “What...what are you doing?”

“Stopping you from getting into even deeper trouble than you already are.” Running his thumb along the sharp edge, his eyes narrowed. “Romance is an utter waste of time. I have no interest in it. No desire to feel it. Just because I find comfort in your company doesn’t mean I want anything more than that.”

“You find comfort in my company?”

He drew himself up as if he hadn’t meant to say that.

His voice dropped to a growl. “You are here to do what I ask, that’s all. I will never ask you to sleep with me because the very idea of losing any more control than I already have sickens me.”

“Never say never,” I blurted stupidly.

God, why?

What is wrong with you?

The knife twinkled in his hand as he shook a little. “You truly have a death wish today, don’t you?”

“It’s your fault.” I groaned and hung my head. “What is it about you that makes me say things that I know are hazardous to my health?”

He gave a low, humourless laugh. “I don’t know...you tell me. You’re the only one reckless enough to talk to the monster everyone else wants to bleed to death.”

My heart physically hurt. “So you admit you’re not as cold-hearted as you pretend to be?”

“Oh, I’m not cold.” He shrugged a little too casually. “I burn every minute of every fucking day. The searing pain in my veins means I want nothing more than revenge on those who did this to me and if it wasn’t for the fact that your presence helps temper that pain, I wouldn’t bother being anywhere near you.” He grinned and traced the tip of the dagger along my neck. “Do you honestly think you would still be alive if I didn’t get some benefit from keeping you that way?”

I gulped, leaning away from the knife.

“I get it.” My chin strained upward, trying to avoid the cold kiss of metal. “I’ll stop. I’m sorry. I—”

“Quiet.” The dagger froze against my skin.

For a heartbeat, I thought he’d decided I wasn’t worth the trouble and decided to slit my neck, but a growl rumbled in his chest, exactly like Whisper.

Slowly, deliberately, he tilted my chin higher with the flat of the blade.

The cold edge pressed just below my jaw, angling my face into the light.

“Who,” he asked softly, almost politely, “did this?”

Chapter Thirty-Two

I BLINKED. I BLANKED. MY HEART thundered. “What?”

The dagger left my skin just as his fingers replaced it. He traced the thin, angry line Lydia had autographed on me last night. His touch was so careful, so gentle, it burned.

“Who cut you?” His voice shook with barely controlled fury. “Who dared fucking hurt you?”

I swallowed, heat rising into my face. “It’s nothing.” I couldn’t tell him what happened because that would lead to confessing I’d lost his blood. And after this fun little conversation where I’d learned the only reason he kept me alive was because I was some unexplainable pharmaceutical for his pain, no way did I want to antagonise him any further.

He inhaled sharply as his hand fell from my jaw, clenched into a fist, then opened again as if he couldn’t decide what to do with it.

“Was it those two who never leave my front steps?” The veins in his temples stood out; a shimmer of sweat appeared by his brow, making it seem as if he strained against some internal leash.

I tried to step away, to avoid the rage pouring off him but his hand lashed out and wrapped exquisitely tight around my wrist. “Answer me.”

Whisper slunk low to the ground, flattening his ears.

Lucien’s hand trembled around me, his jaw clenched so tight the tendons in his neck twitched. He looked...dangerous. Unhinged. Fury was a living thing, stalking under his skin, filling with pressure and hate and violence.

Our eyes snared and I drowned in him. In his rage and misery and pain.

Such, such pain.

His teeth ground together just as a soft beep sounded. A flash of red appeared beneath his shirt. He sucked in a ragged breath as his spine snapped straight.

He stumbled, the dagger clattering from his fingers as he doubled over. Gagging on despair, his impossibly handsome face twisted, beautiful and terrible, his teeth bared as he clutched his chest with both hands.

“Fuck.” His knees buckled.

I caught him without thinking—my arms snapping around his waist, hauling his bulk against me, but it was no use. I didn’t have the strength to keep him upright and we collapsed together. Me beneath him—his burning, burning body crushing mine against the carpet. His head fell forward; his lips smashed to mine, entirely by accident.

He froze.

I froze.

Every nerve lit like a firework about to ignite.

His lips burned as hot as the rest of him, pressed tight to mine, his body solid and unmovable.

For one dizzying heartbeat, I gave in. For one destroying insanity, he sank heavier over me. Our bodies pressed and heated, all of him against all of me, his lips parting, the warmth of his mouth dark and—

“What the fuck are you doing?” Wrenching away, he rolled off me and lay panting on his back.

Scrambling to my knees, I touched my lips.

Another barely-there kiss but...wow.

I’d been kissed before, but only once, and only by a boy I’d had no feelings for. I’d chosen to lose that first kiss label because I was sick of being mocked for it. I sometimes regretted not losing my virginity that night too, just to get it over with.

That kiss when I was sixteen had lasted a far sight longer than this one, yet this one?

It kept stinging and stinging and stinging.

The faint flavour of his taste—honey water that he liked to sip, and the lingering scent of peppermint tea almost made me drunk.

Rook, stop being so ridiculous!

Sitting upright, he planted one hand on the carpet and scooted against the couch. Resting his head against the back of it, his fingers clutched the silver disc trapping his heart.

He looked so wretched, so drained and agonised, I crawled toward him and pressed the back of my hand to his slick forehead.

His eyes closed as he groaned, but he didn’t stop me from touching him.

His temperature would blow apart a thermometer.

“Why is it hurting you so much?” I asked softly.

His lips pulled back in a snarl. “Apparently, they thought I wasn’t behaving.”

“Behaving? But don’t they want you to be with someone...for obvious reasons?”

He gasped as his fingers turned white, twisting the shirt over his chest. “If my—” Another grunt escaped him. “If my pulse climbs...they remind me to...stay calm.”

“By hurting you?” Anger filled me on his behalf. “Why would they hurt you when they need you?”

He laughed morbidly. “Hilarious, isn’t it?”

“That’s not the word I’d use.”

He exhaled heavily as he braced against another wave. “They do it because...they’d rather keep me sick and powerless than...let me kill myself.”

I stiffened.

My hand fell away from his forehead as my fingers curled into fists. “I really, really hate those men.”

His eyes cracked open. They found mine, and whatever he saw on my face made him frown. “You’re angry at them?”

“Furious,” I spat. “Livid.”

“Because they stole your life and threw you in here—?”

“Because they’ve kept you trapped and at their mercy and it’s not fair.”

His breathing evened out as he shifted higher against the back of the couch. His hand slid from his chest into his lap while his other raked through his sweat-damp hair.

“You’re...” His voice trailed off before he muttered, “Confusing.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Nope.” He gave a short, humourless laugh and rested his head against the couch. “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like that I’m confusing?”

His fingers flexed over his thighs, restless with pain. “I never mean to tell you the truth, yet somehow I always do.” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t trust you, yet you know more about me than any of the others. And only because I’ve stupidly told you.”

“Maybe that means you do trust me.”

“Impossible.”

“What did we just talk about?” I cracked a smile. “Never say never.” Bravery made me stupid. “Didn’t you say you weren’t interested in romance? Now look what just happened. We kissed.”

He made a low, dangerous sound in his throat. “I’d stop if I were you.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that—”

“Whatever happened was an accident.”

“Just like the other night was an accident?”

The air went thin as glass, as fragile as the paper lanterns on the walls.

His angry mask slipped, revealing that I hadn’t been the only one affected by those ‘accidents’.

My heart swelled as another smile hooked the corner of my mouth. “Forget it. You hate everything and everyone.”

His temper flared and his mask snapped back into furious place.

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself back to his feet. “Get up.”

I obeyed. My hands splayed to catch him again, just in case.

Shaking his head as if getting rid of the dregs of whatever pain they’d injected into him, he fumbled around his waistband. His eyes tightened as if he’d lost something, before glancing at the floor and finding the dagger he’d dropped.

Bending to grab it, he held it up and ordered, “Hold out your hand.”

I shivered. “Why?”

He arched an eyebrow that gave no room for arguments.

“Fine.” I huffed, holding out my right hand.

Without warning, he snatched me, spread my fingers, and inserted the dagger’s hilt against my palm. “Grip it.” Not letting me go, he closed his hand over mine, heavy and possessive and very, very hot.

The world narrowed to the capture of his large hand, the smoothness of wood, and the rhythm of our fast breathing.

“What are you doing?” I swallowed hard, trying to tug my fingers from his.

“Teaching you.”

“Teaching me what exactly?”

His fingers slid tighter over mine, aligning our grip until I fisted the dagger firmly.

An electrical thrill sparked. A quicksilver jolt from where he touched me, crackling along my arm and setting up an aching home behind my ribs.

He sucked in a breath as awareness thickened. The noise of the world turned down, everything went quiet apart from the thundering of my heart.

He moved closer.

Whisper lounged like a living shadow watching everything.

Lucien’s hand tightened even more, grinding my palm against the wooden hilt, while his other hand found my wrist, turning my arm so the dagger flashed in the golden lamplight.

Tugging me forward, he guided with pressure and proximity, not caring I struggled as he pressed the tip of the dagger against his own throat.

My eyes went wide. I tried to yank the weapon away from his skin. “What the hell are you doing?”

He didn’t look away from me, his hold fierce and unfightable. “If you’re going to kill with a knife, this is the best spot.” Dragging the blade across his neck, hard enough to leave a line but not hard enough to cut, he murmured, “No bones to get in the way. No fatty flesh to absorb the blow. Cut deep enough, and the gush of blood will do the rest for you.”

My mind filled with gruesome images—of his blood pouring like a wave down his chest, of his panther licking it up, of me covered in bright crimson—

“Stop it. Let me go.”

He sucked in a breath, and with both hands, manipulated me until the dagger drew a dangerous line down his front. His gaze never left mine as he angled the tip of the dagger right above his heart.

The room shrank until it was just the two of us. I couldn’t look away from him, stop him. Everything about this was absurd. The ridiculous intimacy of being taught to kill by a man I helped bleed every week. The rawness of our connection even while both of us denied it.

“Stabbing someone in the heart is another appropriate place, but me? The vitalsync core will get in the way.” Digging his thumb into the delicate bones of my wrist, he forced my hand back up.

I couldn’t breathe as he pressed the knife directly over his larynx. “It’s up to you if you want to slash or stab...either will work.”

I felt sick and sweaty and shivery. My headache came back in full force. “Why are you teaching me this? I have absolutely zero intention of hurting you.”

He stared at me for the longest heartbeat, the chandelier painting the planes of his face with dancing shadows. His fingers tightened, delivering pain even as he trembled, but then he released me and stepped back.

I dropped the knife.

My pulse drummed in my throat.

Stalking toward a side table with carved blossom flowers weaving around its legs, he wrenched open a drawer and pulled out another knife. Coming back toward me, he held it out. “I added this to my collection the other night. Take it.”

I backed up. “And if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll kill you.”

“How does that even make sense?”

“Take it.”

I locked my knees and glowered at him. The air between us turned electric once again, echoing in my teeth and fingertips, prickling down the back of my neck. “Are you teaching me how to kill to protect myself from the girls out there?”

Was this his version of a confession that he did like me?

“I’m teaching you this because it will be useful in the future.”

“Useful how?” I narrowed my eyes.

“If you stay alive, you’ll find out one day.” Stepping forward with a blast of black, he snatched my hand and slapped the dagger into it. The hilt was some sort of stone or bone—cold and slippery compared to the wooden one. “If you throw this away, I’ll kill you. If you don’t practice how to use it, I’ll kill you. If you’re late to work tomorrow, I’ll—”

“Kill me. Yeah, I know.”

His lips pursed as if he wanted to curse but he gave a curt nod and let me go. “Leave.”

I held his eyes, wondering if I should rebel against such an order.

After everything that’d happened today.

After all the things we’d said and felt—

But in the end, I accepted defeat and left.

I also took that awful knife with me...just because he told me to.