Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“I know.” The vampire cleared his throat. “And I’ll . . . leave you alone. No questions asked. I get it.”
Apex backed up a couple of steps. Then he turned away.
Then he . . . jogged away, his heavy footfalls rounding the corner and dimming as he traveled through the waiting area. After a moment, the sanatorium’s front entry opened and closed.
In the aftermath of the departure, Callum’s shoulders slumped, his head dropped, his erection deflated—
The door behind him opened. “You’re still here.”
Was he, he thought as Blade’s voice registered through the roar in his head.
“I’m going back,” he mumbled.
“Are you?” There was a stretch of silence. “Then why aren’t you leaving?”
Well, Callum thought, at least he knew the answer to that: It was because he was worried if he returned to the estate right now, he was liable to hunt down that vampire and apologize.
By getting down on his knees in front of the male.
“Will you please come in and have something to eat,” Blade drawled. The because-you-look-like-shit was left unspoken. “I have leftovers from that meal I made at dawn, you know. It was quite good. Or you can have some eggs with me.”
Callum pivoted around. When all he could do was blink and breathe, the other male shook his head.
“I know, I know, you’re not hungry. You don’t care about anything. You’re leaving right this second.” Blade shrugged. “And yet twelve hours later, you’re still here. So perhaps we start with a little food and then maybe you can dematerialize back out to that truck you left on the edge of my property.”
In the rear of Callum’s mind, a connection was suddenly made. “You’re a symphath, aren’t you.”
Those eyes narrowed. “Changing the subject so fast? Afraid I’m going to mention the fact that Apex just left and this hallway smells like sex?”
Callum recoiled. “How the fuck do you know him—”
“Don’t be jealous. It’s not like that.” The smile was smooth and even. And yet the offense had been taken. “And I know him because his and my paths have crossed professionally, you might say. Caldwell can be a very small town, especially if you’re talking about the—shall we say—otherworldly community.”
There was another period of tense silence.
“I’m not eating your food,” Callum grumbled.
“So that’s the reason you’ve starved yourself for the whole day outside my door? You think I’ll tamper with your entrée because of what I am? My dear boy, I can assure you, if I wanted to fuck with you, I don’t need you to be chewing to ruin your life.”
Callum laughed in a hard rush. “That’s already happened.” Then he pushed past the male and entered the symphath’s quarters. “You got it right the first time. My appetites are shot—appetite, I mean.”
All he knew was that he couldn’t go back to Camp Ghreylke.
And who knew this fucking place would ever be a better alternative.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Oh, good evening, s-sire. You have more questions for me?”
As the anxious inquiry was posed by Broadius’s maid, Petrie, Tohr stepped closer to the door of her third-floor apartment. Gone was the uniform, the flush from the cold, and a lot of the panic. She was wearing jeans and a comfortable sweater, and her salt-and-pepper hair was loose down her back.
But of course, she was tense. Anybody would be when a couple of brothers showed up on their stoop.
“Just one.” He smiled to try to reassure her. “May we come in?”
“Yes, of course.” The female moved back with deference and indicated the way forward. “Anything I can do to help.”
The building she was in was on the outskirts of the downtown, and it was filled with vampires, the fifty-unit development a nonprofit that was owned and managed by the Brotherhood for the benefit of the species. All kinds of domestics lived in the converted hotel, the maids, chauffeurs, butlers, and bartenders servicing the new glymera and all their new-built mansions, glitzy parties, and vacation homes.
And whereas most of their employers adhered to the old-school tradition of aristocrats taking advantage of the help, here, the civilians and doggen were watched over and protected.
“May I get you some coffee?” She glanced at Qhuinn and did a double take at all the piercings in his ear and his black-and-purple hair. “Tea?”
Tohr shook his head and noted that something smelled delicious. Stew? He’d comment on it, but no doubt she’d feel obliged to offer them some, even if she didn’t have much.
“I think we’re good, but thank you,” he said.
“Okay.”
The living area was tidy, the pale blue sofas and creamy rug making him think they were on a cloud. Winsome pastel drawings of fields of flowers and cute cottages marked the walls, and the fact that there wasn’t a TV suggested maybe the female was a big reader, and if she did do a movie or a TV show, it was on an iPad.