I choose clothes and bolt for my robe, which I left draped over a chair in the sitting room. Pulling it on, I step back out onto the balcony, having the presence of mind to close the door so as not to disturb Cole. CK doesn’t yell, ever, but I might. My anger is now rising up at this intrusion and I square my shoulders, turning around with fire in my eyes, meeting his gaze and holding it.
Seconds, minutes, who knows how much time passes?
Glaring at me, he cocks his eyebrow in acknowledgment of my strength. CK makes mincemeat out of the weak and fearful.
“Sit,” he demands.
I don’t move.
“Sit,” he says menacingly, “or I will make you.”
Regaining some of my composure, I smirk and say, “I’d like to see you try.”
His eyes flash at my defiance, but I see the spark of pride there as well.
“Don’t test my patience, my sweet. It is bad enough that I have had to come to this place, this cultural wasteland.” He sweeps his arm around in disgust.
Knowing that he is talking about Los Angeles and not my home, I still feel a bit affronted and cross my arms defensively.
“Well?” I say rudely, “make it quick. I have things to do.”
“Your boy tells me you are thinking of revealing our secret to your new human friend,” he says, getting straight to the point now.
Devon! I knew it. He is so dead.
“And?” I ask cockily.
Menacing CK is back as he snarls, “Do not forget to whom you are talking.”
“No, CK, don’t forget who you are talking to,” I retort, growing tired of this posturing. I know this man. I have seen every side of him, the good, the bad, the terrifying. “I am not some underling that you can scare into submission.”
His face softens as he smiles and says, “No, my love, that you are not. Your submission is always willing. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”
Surprise registers on my face, before I realize his game: a change of tactic to disarm me. Narrowing my eyes at him, he smiles that heavenly, innocent smile he has perfected when he is being anything but innocent.
“I know what you are doing and it’s not going to work,” I tell him with a pout.
He sighs. “It never does on you. You are the most frustrating creature on the planet.”
“I had a good master,” I say with a slight smile and drop my arms.
He laughs, a magnificent sound coming from him, and he opens his arms for me to step into them. Oh, how I love being held by him. I feel safe, cherished and loved. It’s the sire bond. Devon says that’s how he feels when we embrace.
“Oh, my sweet. It is good to see you, even under these circumstances. It has been too long since I saw you in New York.”
A spark flares through me at his tone. “Pity it takes something like this to get you to come and visit,” I say wryly.
He chuckles. “Indeed,” he agrees. He pulls away from me and I feel the loss of his comfort.
“If we must discuss this, can we please go down to my office? Cole is sleeping,” I say.
CK looks surprised. “He’s here? Sleeping?” He knows of my distaste for sharing my bed overnight, unless I’m with him, or Devon, of course.
I nod and I see the change in his face. “I see,” he says flatly. He looks almost pained.
I stare at him, dumbfounded. I have seen the many faces of my sire. The usual three are arrogance, indifference and menace, but this is one of the rarest sights: the look of loss, sorrow, regret, love? I can’t quite find the right emotion.
I inhale sharply and he adjusts his features to their usual smug-arrogance.