Page 11 of Blood Ties (City of Blood #1)

Elina

After a full week of nightly vigils in my bar by Sebastien, I’ve had enough.

I haven’t spoken to him since last week except for me to greet him when he sits, give him his whiskey, and bid him goodnight at sunrise.

He watches me, silently, from the end of the bar and Jack hasn’t made another appearance.

“Why do you think he keeps coming?” Sarah asks me on Saturday night after I give Bash his third drink.

“I have no idea, but this is the last night he sits and watches me. I can’t tell if he’s trying to wear me down with his presence or if he thinks I need his protection. Whatever it is, I’m tired of him just sitting there.” I walk over to him and lean across the bar.

“Hey, Bash, you’re here. Again. Why have you been here every night? You’re here from sundown to sun up every day. Since you’re, well, you, I would assume you had like kingdom business or something. Instead, you sit here all night and drink whiskey after whiskey. Why are you here?”

“Why, hello, Elina. What a break from your standard protocol of ignoring me. Am I not allowed to patronize this bar? I don’t have anything going on as, you know, Re Marcus is more than capable of handling business on his own.

” He pauses, his face contemplative. “Listen, I will make you a deal. Tomorrow is Sunday and the bar is closed. Give me two hours tomorrow night and if you don’t want me to come back, I’ll never come here again.

Just two hours Elina. Please.” He looks at me expectantly, a small look of triumph on his face, like he can already hear my yes.

He never abandons our eye contact, never even looks down, though I know he can see down my corset. It's sweet in a medieval sort of way.

“Where would we go? The streets are dangerous at night for me—” because of your people, I add silently.

“Not if you’re with me, they aren’t,” he cuts in.

“Ok, but it's Sunday night. The Rest Day Law means everything in The City of Blood is closed.”

“Again, not if you’re with me, they aren’t.” I frown at him. So, the rich and powerful vamps can flout the law and the humans are trapped in their houses. Of course.

“Sunday is the only day of the week I am not working—I work day and night, 6 days a week. On my only day off, I can’t do anything during the day and I am forced to stay inside at night, and you and your rich nepo-baby vampire friends are breaking the laws you set? And I am to participate in that?”

“Elina, it’s my only opportunity to be with you, outside of these walls, because it’s your only day off.” His voice is a little pleading but he doesn’t acknowledge my, very valid, points. “Will you give me a different day? I can make up for the money you’ll lose by taking the night off.”

“Wow Bash, you’re really unbelievable. Are you trying to buy me now?

” I pick up the brothel menu and slam it on the counter in front of him.

“This is what you can buy. I am not for sale.” With the satisfaction of having the final word, I walk away.

I glance over my shoulder and see the dejected look on his face as I reach Sarah.

“Don’t you think that was a little harsh, Lina? I mean, I know you’re trying really hard to not like him, but it didn't sound like he was trying to offend you. It was a stupid misstep in the conversation.” Sarah gives me a scolding look.

“Sarah, he and I? We are too different. That's the point I’m trying to make. I can go out on the street because he’s there to protect me?

I don’t want his protection. I only need protection because of his family.

I can go out and enjoy a night on the town on a Sunday night?

I, only, can’t do that now because of his family.

He can’t solve the problem he created that easily. ”

“Just give him a chance please. Maybe it will be a waste of time, but at least you’ll have done something.

And if it's a disaster, he won’t come back.

If it’s not a disaster, maybe you’ll find yourself in a position that matters instead of behind this bar, selling other humans to the vampires so you’re not out on the street.

Give him a chance.” She looks at me pleadingly, having grabbed my hands at some point.

I get it, I really do, this is a chance to, at the very least, have an important vampire see humans as more than entertainment or food. But, it’s dangerous too, for all of us.

“Fine Sarah, I’ll give him a chance. I refuse to believe that anyone who sits at the right hand of my captor is doing anything other than playing a cat and mouse game.

I never even hinted at telling you to try and give Ethan a chance.

Remember that.” I practically spit at her and her face crumples.

I immediately regret letting the thought leave my head.

“Fuck. I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have mentioned him.

I’m sorry. I love you. I’ll try.” Sarah hangs her head, dropping my hands and walking away. Fuck.

I spend the next 4 or 5 hours working the bar like my life depends on it.

Pouring drinks, ordering girls for the customers, and keeping tension down through my sunny disposition alone.

Ok, even I don’t believe that last part.

I refill Bash’s glass 2 more times and pocket two $50s in tips from him without an ounce of guilt.

A few minutes before the last call, I wander over to make sure he doesn’t need a refill before I shut the drinks off.

“Need anything else before I close the well?”

“No, Elina, thank you. I didn’t mean to make it sound like you were for sale before. I’m not used to this ok? This is new for me”

“Yeah, it’s new for me too.” Appraising him, I decide how to respond to his question.

“Alright Bash, you get two hours and that’s it.

I’ll set a timer. 2 hours.” I hold up two fingers in front of him, driving my point home.

A slow smile spreads across his face, lighting him up in a way I haven’t seen before.

A special smile almost, one that is only for me.

I find myself grinning in return, against my will.

“Perfetta. I’ll pick you up at 8 and get to keep you until 10, Tesoro mio.” The lapse into Italian is a little unexpected but it’s perfect coming off his lips. Tesoro mio? I’ll have to find an Italian dictionary if Bash is going to start adding Italian to our conversations.

“Alright, I’ll see you at 8. Good night, Bash”

What have I done? In 13 hours I have a date with a vamp.

And not just any vamp. An old, Italian, aristocratic vampire that may have been a vampire baby at some point and smells like fire.

A grumpy, broody, tall heir-to-the-vampire-throne vampire.

The kind of vamp you think of when you think of a stereotypical blood-drinker.

Very Dracula in the modern era—Dracula if he wore coordinating black-on-black suits.

It’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll set a timer, I’ll be home before 10:01. “Perfetta,” I tell myself, in a mock Italian accent.

Every Sunday is the same and this one is no exception.

Except there is a guillotine hanging over me, a dread in the distance.

A dread that has left butterflies in its wake.

I have breakfast with Grand-mere while I avoid the grey cloud hanging over 8 pm.

I go to church and listen to an hour-long sermon about the dangers of giving into lust and resisting the devil.

The pastor reads from 1 Peter and I am amazed at how prophetic the sermon truly is.

Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.

1 Peter 5:8

I do not feel better after church.

Sitting down with Grand-mere Celeste for supper, I fidget in my chair, trying to figure out how to tell her my plans for tonight.

“What’s wrong with you girl? You have ants in your pants. Stop squirming and tell me whatever it is that has you all worked up.” I suck in a deep breath.

“I have a date tonight,” I say quickly before I lose my nerve.

“A date? A date with who? On a Sunday night? At night?”

“Yes, tonight, at night.” I hang my head, hands in my lap and mumble out, “With Sebastien Malvani,” like I’m a child who broke the rules. I am genuinely worried about her reaction though. Life is hard for everyone and especially Grand-mere. The vamps are a touchy subject we generally avoid.

“Who? Speak up Elina,” she tells me sternly.

“I said with Sebastien Malvani,” I repeat, peeking up at her through my lashes while I wait for her response.

With that, Grand-mere Celeste gasps out loud and clutches her chest with a look of horror.

Something in her expression pulls at me.

I can’t read the emotion in her bottomless brown eyes but it’s almost like a memory, one of dread.

This is going as well as I had expected.

After about a minute, she recovers her wits and gives me a weak smile.

“Well, if that isn’t something. A Blood Raven taking you out. Are you sure that’s safe?”

“No, not really. He’s been coming into the bar for a few weeks and, I don’t know, I feel like I need to go through with this and see what happens.

Sarah thinks that if things go well, maybe I could be in a position to do something.

He is the heir after all—that has to mean something, right? ” Another gasp.

“The heir? Like, Marcus’s heir?”

“Yes, I looked up the family tree last Sunday and he’s Marcus’s nephew—the only male in the family line under Marcus. Marcus has some brothers but I guess he passed them over.” Maybe I could ask Bash about it one day.

“Bash? You are quite familiar with this man. I don’t feel well about this but it’s your choice and your life. You can’t stay here with me forever.” She gazes at me sadly, her mouth turned down, her hand still over her heart. She’s wrong—I can and I will.

“I’m going up to get ready, he will be here soon. I promise to be careful Grand-mere, and I will be home tonight. Please don’t worry about me.” I drop a kiss on her cheek and head up the stairs to get ready for the date I did not want and am scared to go on.

One long, very hot shower later, I’m getting dressed.

I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear since he didn’t tell me where we are going, but it’s probably a safe bet he is wearing black dress pants and a black button down.

Pulling on black jeans with rips in the knees, I decide I need to add a jacket.

I laugh softly to myself as I look at my outfit in the mirror, fluffing my curls before heading down the stairs.

At exactly 8 o'clock, a black sports car pulls up to the curb in front of the house and Bash unfolds himself from the driver seat. Interesting, he struck me as the type to have a driver.

Walking out the front door, I extend my hand as he waits at the bottom of the stairs. A feral grin on his face.