The Bleeding Dusk (The Gardella Vampire Chronicles 3)

“Silver? Wide at the top of her arm?” he asked. “Yes, I took it also. It was the only jewelry she wore, and the only other thing I could do for her.”

“Where is it? What did you do with it?”

“I didn’t realize it was important to you. It’s…I put it here to be safe from…behind Catherine Gardella’s portrait. Apparently she liked jewelry.”

A wave of relief, followed by annoyance, rushed over Victoria. “But why didn’t you send it to me when you sent the vis bulla?”

His eyes flickered away, then came back to hers with a hint of chagrin in their expression. “I…ah…didn’t think it would have quite the same…flair,” he said with a discomfited expression, “to send both. The vis…well, it was more intimate.” He quirked a smile.

Then, shrugging off whatever bit of discomposure he’d had, Sebastian reached for her again, and this time he caught her upper arms with both hands. “Besides…what if I needed a reason to contact you again?” he murmured as he pulled her close enough that her skirt swished against his trousers. “I’m not one to leave all my cards on the table.”

His grip was strong, surprisingly strong. Victoria was tempted to twist away and send him sprawling to the stone floor, perhaps clipping his head on a table on the way down—but at the same time, looking up into his face, she found herself focused on his mouth. It was close, and she well remembered how it felt sliding and fitting sensually to hers. Warm and mobile, slick and coaxing.

Perhaps it would be prudent to put him off guard. Prudent and enjoyable…and then she could change the subject back to a more pertinent one.

But apparently, for once Sebastian had other ideas; for he sobered, the flirtatiousness fading from his face, as if he’d just recalled something important. “Victoria, you must take care. He’s made it clear that he wants you for himself,” he said, maintaining the distance between them…yet looking at any moment like he might change his mind.

At first Victoria didn’t know who he meant. She looked away from his lips and their eyes met.

“Beauregard,” Sebastian said, his voice tight and without its normal light edge. “I’m speaking of Beauregard. Although from what I understand, you’ve wasted no time in finding other, less dangerous men to amuse you, such as that redheaded Scot.”

Now she shoved hard at his solid chest, and he released her, stumbling back a step but easily remaining on his feet. “You are playing the jealous lover. How can that be, Sebastian, when you’ve been no lover at all these past months? When, in fact, our attachment was of the briefest kind?”

His expression changed, the annoyance easing into a knowing smile. “So you have missed me.” Triumph colored his amber eyes, and he reached for her a third time.

This time she let him bring her so that their bodies were flush: breast to chest, thigh to thigh, feet mingling. Her skin warmed, the flush traveling from her face down to her neck and beyond. It was good to touch him again, to feel the warmth of a man’s body and the strength of his arms about her.

“Hardly.” They both knew she was lying.

She shouldn’t have missed him—she couldn’t trust him, for his loyalty was to Beauregard—but she had missed him, and she did trust him…after a fashion. It wasn’t as if he could replace Phillip and the love and regard they’d had for so brief a time, but she was human.

And she was a woman. A woman who’d grown up cuddled and petted by Melly and her two friends, a woman who liked to be touched, who enjoyed being reminded that she was desirable, and who had made choices that kept her outside normal societal conventions so that she was a lonely outcast.

He made her feel. He’d brought pleasure to a life that had once been so simple, so normal and easy and bland, and had become stark and dark and violent. With his irrepressible charm and unabashed flirtation, Sebastian had made her heart beat faster and her body reawaken from the grief-imposed stupor resulting from Phillip’s death. Even now, as they faced each other, her belly flipped deep inside, knowing there was more to come. And she was ready for it. Her heart rammed in her chest as she remembered the way his hands would glide over her bare skin….

“Believe me, I didn’t want to stay away, Victoria,” he said, his mouth hovering in front of hers, his lips twitching in a racy grin, and the clove scent on his breath a light brush over her skin. “I wished only to keep you safe.”

“Safe?” She reared her head away from him so she could look directly in his eyes, knowing that her own were narrowed in annoyance. “What did you mean to keep me safe from? The vampires I hunt every night? That is a poor excuse and another false note. Can you not even once be truthful?”

“From Beauregard.” His voice had chilled, and eyes that had been soft and coaxing a moment earlier had flattened. “You have no idea—”

“I can protect myself.”

“I am fully aware of your Venatorial qualities, for you see fit to remind me of them—as well as my own shortcomings—at every opportunity.”

“I am who I am,” she told him. “I told you this last autumn—I made the choice, and if it’s too much for you to bear, knowing that I’m stronger and faster than you, that I have no need for you to protect me, that I’m not like other women who will sit at home waiting to be taken care of by the men in this world, then begone with you, Sebastian. I need you no more than you need me.”

She realized suddenly that she was crying. My God, crying! Victoria, Illa Gardella, who’d not even squeaked in shock when her beloved aunt was killed in front of her, had tears rolling down her cheeks.

Now she was angry—at herself, at Sebastian, at the choices she’d made and the losses she’d endured—and she tore herself from his hold, turning away to focus her attention on something else…anything else. Anything.

The sparkling water of the fountain caught and then mesmerized her, soothing in its rhythm, beautiful in its clarity, comforting in its holiness.

And then…the realization came…a suspicion that must have been buried deeply suddenly came billowing out. She whirled toward him just in time to see Sebastian reaching to gather her back into his arms.

She went willingly, meeting his mouth with all of the angst and anger that had built inside her since she’d had those five dreams that called her to her duty as a Venator.