Page 71

I dropped my hand from the door handle and took a step back. It was time for me to chill. I wouldn’t chase him. I sure as hell wouldn’t beg him. If Zand wanted to resurrect walls between us, he’d have to do it while looking me in the eye. I could give him five minutes to reconsider, to remember who we are to each other now and what we’ve promised to be. And then I’m going downstairs to claim my place at his side, whether he likes it or not.

It was time for me to get ready for the day. I couldn’t get back to sleep. The bathroom felt like a space of comfort as I stripped and stepped into the shower. I turned the water temperature as high as I could stand. Steam billowed around me, warming me up. The expensive body wash was a small luxury that I savored. I rinsed quickly and stepped out onto the marble floor.

I braced myself in front of the mirror. My reflection stared back. Water droplets trailed down my neck like silent accusations. Whatever was happening downstairs, I’m being deliberately excluded, and that knowledge burned hotter than anger. Five minutes had passed, then ten, and still no sign of Zand returning to explain his rude behavior. Fine. If the king won’t come to the queen, the queen will go to the king.

I dressed in dark jeans, a simple black tank top, hair twisted into a quick knot at the nape of my neck. No makeup, no jewelry except for the black diamond engagement ring that suddenly feltlike both armor and a challenge. We weren’t married yet, and this was already getting difficult.

The marble floor and the bedroom mirror offered no encouragement, no solace. I turned away from my reflection, wrenching open the door with more force than necessary.

My bare feet made no sound on the sleek staircase as I descended. One of my hands slid along the polished banister. The loft was designed with vampire acoustics in mind. Still, I heard snippets of urgent conversation drifting upward, coming from more than two voices. Someone other than Zand was here now. Who? It didn’t matter if they heard me coming. I’m here.

I rounded the final curve of the staircase and stopped dead in my tracks. My fingers tightened on the banister. The living room had been transformed into a war meeting. Zand stood at the center of a loose circle formed by Donté, Harlen, Morgan, Josh, and Natasha. All six pairs of eyes turned toward me simultaneously. What the hell was going on? And why was Morgan standing with these people? That was my friend, despite her being a vampire.

Zand looked like a darker version of the man who left our bedroom. His face was a mask of tension. His honey-colored eyes were without an emotion I could decipher. Beside him, Donté’s usually relaxed features had hardened into something foreign. Harlen fidgeted with nervous energy. While Morgan was frozen in place, Josh maintained his stoic facade, but his eyes tracked my movement with unusual intensity. And Natasha watched me with the unflinching focus of a scientist observing a particularly interesting specimen.

What the fuck was going on?The silence stretched and filled the open space of the loft. I was the only human in a space full of vampires.

Fuck it!I stepped forward, breaking the silence. “What is this?” My irate voice was all they would get this early in themorning. “Why are all of you here this early in the morning?” It wasn’t even light outside yet. “Looking at me like I grew a second head?”

None of those blood drinkers responded. Zand’s hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

“Chanel.” He finally said my name. “Do you hear what I hear?”

The question made no sense. I frowned, scanning their pale faces for some hint of explanation. “What the fuck are you talking about?” It was too early in the morning to cuss, but oh well.

Zand tilted his head in a robotic way. “Listen. Just... listen. Do you hear it?”

“Hear what?” Frustration course through my voice as I took another step into the room. “All I see is a bunch of vampires being cryptic and weird in the morning.”

“Yes.” Morgan said. Her gray eyes were wide and focused. “It’s there. I can hear it too.”

Oh, okay. My bestie was about to be ten or twelve bitches if she didn’t tell me what the fuck was up. One by one, the others nodded.

“Yes.” They all said in near unison like church folks saying amen to a pastor.

Confusion twisted my brain and turned into panic. “Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”

The silence broke without warning. Natasha lunged forward with speed, crossing the space between us before I can even back up. She stopped inches from my face. Her posture tensed, but her movements were controlled. She leaned in close, too close, and then she did the unthinkable.

This crazy bitch sniffed me. Not subtly, not metaphorically, but actually drew in a deep breath through her button nose. She moved from my neck to my hair and Zand let her do it. Icouldn’t believe it. Then she disturbingly directed her attention to my abdomen. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled me like those vampires in movies.

I recoiled, stepping back so quickly I nearly tripped over the arm of a chair. My hand rose instinctively to push her away. “What in the actual fuck, Natasha?”

Anger flooded my veins. This violation of my personal space. Six feet covid space bitch! This bizarre behavior coupled with this secretive gathering. Was I going to have to fight for my life?

“Don’t touch me.” I warned. I was so mad, but something said I should be afraid.

Natasha straightened her posture. She was apparently satisfied with whatever information her olfactory investigation had provided. Her expression shifted from scientific detachment to something almost like awe as she turned away to face the others.

Behind her, Zand had become a statue. His eyes never left my face. He was watching me with an intensity that felt intimate and distant all at the same time.

My instinct said ‘run bitch run’ but the other three, or two point five Black people in the room, weren’t running. Before I could back further away, Natasha reached out with startling speed. Her cool palm pressed directly against my stomach through the thin fabric of my tank top. The unexpectedness of the contact made me jerk backward.

“Don’t touch me.” I said through my anger and fear. I stepped back out of her reach. My back hit the wall, giving me nowhere else to go. “Zand!” I called out for his help.

Zand didn’t move. His eyes never left me, but he still did nothing to help me. The power of his gaze felt like a weight pressing against my skin.

“Remarkable,” Natasha crooned, stepping back. “I’ve heard of old ancient myths about human breeders, but I’ve never seenone in modern day. I thought they were just stories the elders told.”