Page 85 of Blood as Sweet as Roses

“I’m so glad you’re ok!” I gasp, breaking away from her hug and holding her at arm’s length, looking at her throat. There’s barely a mark where Crimson punctured her airway. “You can barely see it…”

She touches the spot lightly with the tips of her fingers. “Murad’s blood,” she explains. “He gave me some once I could swallow, and I think it reduced the scarring.”

“It’s good to see you,” I tell her, squeezing her arm.

“It’s good to seeyou,” she replies. “Paige, I owe you a huge thank you. If it wasn’t for you, I would have died!”

“It’s nothing,” I answer.

“Don’t be silly,” she says, releasing me so we can take seats opposite each other at the table. “Your quick thinking saved my life. How did you know what to do?”

“I’m hoping to become a nurse one day,” I explain.

“You’d be an incredible nurse,” Eloise says. Then she shakes her head. “I just can’t believe I didn’t have my epipen. Usually I carry one around with me everywhere.”

I bite my lip. I don’t know if I should tell Eloise about our suspicions. I wouldn’t want to scare her, especially since we don’t know if they have any merit.

And now…will I even have the chance to discuss it with Crimson? Will she want to talk to me anymore, after I told her all about my mom, all about my views on substance use?

“What’s wrong, Paige?” Eloise asks softly. “Sean told me that you haven’t been downstairs in a few days.”

“I…just needed a bit of a break,” I answer.

A server brings Eloise her usual raspberry iced tea. She sips it, a concerned expression on her face. I can tell I haven’t fooled her.

I’m not used to having so many people who can sense my feelings like this. Growing up, my mother always had a lot going on, and didn’t really have time to talk to me about things that were upsetting me. Of course, Miles and I are close, but he’s younger than me, and I wouldn’t want to burden him with my feelings. Blake…well, he was never the best listener either.

But Eloise watches me patiently. “Is everything all right with Crimson?”

I wring my hands under the table. “I…I think I really messed everything up, Eloise.” My eyes dart to the window, remembering our conversation in the rose garden. “Crimson was telling me about how the vampires are planning to start selling glow, and I told her that I don’t think she should do it. I told her about…about how substance use disorders run in my family, and…I think I may have crossed a line.”

Eloise frowns, a little line forming between her eyebrows. I wait for her to tell me what a mistake I’ve made. How I shouldn’t talk about my personal life with the vampires, how it’s unprofessional, how I have no place telling a vampire king how to run their business.

“Youwere the one who told Crimson not to move forward with the glow production?” she finally says, cocking her head, a curious expression on her face.

“Yes,” I confirm, my stomach twisting. “It wastotallyout of line, I know…”

“Ithink…” Eloise raises her eyebrows. “You should go down to the lounge, and talk to Crimson.”

My breath hitches. “Am I…am I going to be fired? Is shereallymad? I’ve never told anyone about my past like that before…”

Eloise reaches out across the table and pats my arm gently. “No, no, Paige. Just go talk to her. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“Ok,” I reply nervously. I trust Eloise, but she does seem to be calmer around the vampires than I think is warranted.

Now I’m anxious, and even though it fills me with dread, I know I need to speak with Crimson quickly, or this knot in my stomach is just going to get worse. I stand up from my seat, and give Eloise a tight smile.

“I think she’s in the lounge,” she says, taking another sip of her tea.

“Thanks, Eloise.”

I slip quickly into a high-waisted skirt and a matching crop top, and then I do my best with my make-up. I have big bags under my eyesfrom spending the last few days cooped up in my room. It’s more than my fundamental make-up skills can handle, so I finally settle for some light mascara and a quick swipe of tinted lip balm. If I’m going to get in trouble, it won’t matter whether my make-up looks cute or not.

I hurry downstairs to the lounge. Chelsie and Sean are on the dance floor, and they wave me over. I give them an apologetic shake of my head, and I point to the back of the lounge, where Crimson sits on her throne. Sean and Chelsie both give me a big thumbs-up.

Crimson looms, intimidating and ferocious, over the usual festivities. My stomach gets gooey as I approach her. Tonight, she wears an all-black ensemble, a long-sleeved turtleneck tucked into a pair of dark jeans, a shining gold watch on her wrist.

Howdoes she manage to look so effortlessly sexy all the time?