Original Sin (The Order of Vampires 1)

His head lowered in defeat. They had so many differences. Perhaps she was wise not to marry him. Perhaps this was the modern way of bonding, the way the new world operated. He certainly didn’t believe all the immortal males on other continents vowed an eternity to one female.

Perhaps his Amish views were clouding his salvation and he should be grateful for her presence so far and not expect more than what he deserved. But be it his faith, or culture, or just his foolish heart, he couldn’t imagine bonding with her and not sharing a home, a name, and a family as well.

Those were his only gifts to give. If she rejected them, she rejected him. And while he loved her for her willingness to help him, he didn’t want her choice to be made from pity. He wanted it made from love.

Keeping his motions slow, he bravely reached for her hand. Her eyes jerked from the road, her stare cutting to him.

“I’m sorry I lost my temper,” he whispered.

Her hand tightened around his. “Me too.”

“Please don’t ever make me listen to that again.”

She laughed. “You don’t like Rage Against the Machine?”

“I don’t like whatever that just was. And I don’t like when we argue.”

She glanced at him and smiled. “Me neither. But Adam, this expectation you have that I’ll blindly obey you... You have to get it out of your head.”

“I’m trying to bend with you, Annalise. But sometimes you can be so stubborn.”

“You can’t force me, Adam. I’ll fight you every time. Girls have bad situations thrown at them from the minute they’re born. My mom raised me to stand up for myself and stand by my beliefs. And I’ll never lose that part of her inside of me.”

“I’m not asking you to change your beliefs. I’m only asking you to respect mine. Your swearing is an abomination.”

She laughed. “Seriously?”

“Yes. I abhor hearing such words come from your mouth, and sometimes I think you use them just to upset me.”

“Well, maybe I do. But I don’t think the F word is as offensive as a man ordering a woman to obey, simply because she’s a woman.”

“I can see where I might have overstepped.”

“Might have?”

He let out a frustrated breath. He’d always dreamed of having a female who deferred to him. Someone who trusted his judgment enough to let him lead. God was a comedian.

“I will not order you to obey me if you mind your language.”

“You will not order me period, Adam. It’s as simple as that.” She pointed back and forth between them. “Equals.”

But they weren’t equal. She had abilities he did not and vice versa. Equality was a modern concept that distorted the basic nature of men and women. Biologically speaking, they were created with opposing abilities. Not only that, until they completed the bonding, they weren’t even equal species.

He opened his mouth, prepared to argue the point, and his gaze fell on the scratch at her thigh. All ego disappeared as he measured the reddened stripe with his eyes, smelled the tear in her delicate skin, and sensed the trauma he’d put her through all over again.

They were not equals. She was so much better than him. He’d attacked her and she still stood up to him.

Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed her fingers. She was his brave little English woman. It would be a tragedy to take the fight out of her.

“You’re right,” he said, holding onto her hand as they drove. “We should be equals.”

Life would be better with a partner who challenged him. Because no matter how much she infuriated him, if she ever traded her defiance for indifference, he’d be lost. She argued because she cared—because she was trying to find a way to make this work.

Chapter Thirty-Six

The cold cut through Annalise’s skirts as she wandered down the vacant street. Fog rolled over the pavement, the vapor catching the murky twilight as gas lit streetlamps flickered along the way.

Her meandering steps ticked a tempo over the cobblestone road. Darkened windows and dated entryways gaped in the shadows.

A glowing light wobbled in the distance, moving closer but still too far to make out how it traveled. She pulled her shawl tight around her shoulders, as the wind cut down the road.

The clip-clop of horse hooves disrupted the silence. Beyond the glowing light, a black carriage took shape. Twirls of steam funneled from the horse’s black snout as it marched closer.

Stumbling out of its path, she squinted at the dark glass, unable to see the driver or any passengers inside. The reins stretched from the animal’s glistening, black fur back into the shadowed cab.

Heavy hooves beat into the pavement as the driver pulled the animal to a stop. The carriage creaked as a door pushed open, but she still couldn’t see who hid inside.