Not that he’d seen her even once. But he’d sensed her, smelled her about a week after his arrival. His beliefs were proven correct when one of the trainees said her name. Elias had pinned the motherfucker in the dirt and demanded to know where she was. The slayer had spat in Elias’s face, but finally yielded, pointing upstairs.
Training, he’d said.
Training to be a slayer. Of course she would be after what happened.
Her hatred for him and his kind must be the stuff of legends.
Eventually, Elias would need to go somewhere. Breaking out wouldn’t be that challenging considering his supernatural speed and strength. But the idea of leaving her vicinity cleaved his skin from his bones.
The roach he’d been watching disappeared into a crack and Elias let his eyelids fall…
And there she was.
Roksana.
Strutting past him in the casino with her sweater clutched tightly over her breasts, an air of mischief surrounding her like an aura. A shoe dropped in her wake and as he’d done countless times when replaying his first meeting with Roksana, he questioned his past self.
Knowing what happens, knowing your life will be stolen thanks to your association with Roksana, will you still follow her?
Yes.
Yes, the Elias in his memory rose every time, picked up the shoe and went.
He went over and over again. Would for all eternity.
Elias let his mind drift to the kiss, how breathless she’d been returning to him in the bar, leaving her friends staring after her. How she’d mimicked the movements of his tongue, so enthusiastic, but so unpracticed, her breath hitching, body softening—
“I’m here to kill you, vampire.”
The command in the darkness didn’t startle him at all. Voices in his head had become the standard, especially Roksana’s husky voice. Inessa often left him in the cell for weeks on end without sustenance. The amount she fed him depended on the strength with which she wanted him to battle her slayers. This time was the longest he’d gone without blood, so the voice didn’t even cause him to stir. Instead, he savored the sound of her, let it coast over him like a cool wave.
“I said, I’m here to kill you!” Something nudged him in the ribcage—and that was new.
Elias opened his eyes to find an angry angel staring down at him, a wooden stake held high over her head. Roksana.
The dead organ in his chest leapt and squeezed, before going back to unfortunate rest.
The scent of her battered his senses, making his veins shriek.
Even if his mind was in a fog, his body knew. She was really there.
Beautiful. God. So beautiful, she ravaged him. Made him want to roar at her and grovel at her feet at the same time. Would his instincts ever make sense again?
Still in shock, Elias bolted upright, his lack of strength making him stagger when he gained his feet. Shame over his weakened state strangled him around the throat. He’d been pathetically inexperienced the night he’d failed her. The night he’d let her heart be ripped to shreds. Now here he was again, unworthy of her.
Roksana still held the stake above her head, but she seemed stunned by what she saw.
What did she see?
Time and place and existence had become inconsequential to him. He could only fight when he was told to fight. That’s what Inessa demanded. Train her slayers to combat vampiric abilities. Do it without killing them, no matter how badly he had to war with his instincts to hold back. Doing her bidding for a year, in exchange for Roksana’s life, was the deal he’d made.
The deal he would make a million times again.
Greedily, his eyes ran over her new haircut, the softer sweep of her bangs. The tight leather clothing she wore. The sadness and rage and confusion she carried in her eyes.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
But he couldn’t say it out loud. He couldn’t tell Roksana he hated himself for the turmoil he’d put her through. The pain. His lack of aid. And God, the screaming.
No, he could offer her no apologies, because he might have to answer questions. His memory of the night alone could lead her to the truth—and the truth would spell her death.
Inessa was in league with the vampires.
Oh, she might hate vampires with the fire of a thousand suns, but she loved money and power more. If calling a truce with them meant a payday or an elevation in status, she did it without hesitation. He’d learned a lot while playing an authentic opponent to her training slayers. And Roksana had no idea her mother was nothing but a politician, giving and receiving favors. Not some noble avenger of humankind.
How many times had Inessa reminded Elias that Roksana learning the truth would result in her death? Hundreds at least.
Elias had been given a lot of time to think and he’d come to some conclusions. Inessa didn’t merely want Elias to keep their secret because it could destroy her relationship with Roksana. No, it had to be more than that. Perhaps a fear that Roksana wouldn’t fall into line and jeopardize the organization she’d built on lies. Because he remembered every single word of their conversation that night in the casino.