Page 110 of Chain Me

“Your room is at the top of the stairs,” Dublin told me, nodding to a grand oak staircase straight ahead.

“And mine?” Dmitri wondered.

I jumped, turning to find him standing uncomfortably close behind me. His eyes sparkled, his lips quirking as he folded his arms over his chest.

“There’s a shed out back,” Dublin replied without missing a beat. He continued forward, leaving the foyer to show me the rest of the house.

There was a dining room, a modest kitchen, and a parlor-slash-library. Overall, it was a smaller dwelling, as suspected, but an air of security tainted the atmosphere, impossible to ignore. Something told me that Dublin had more of his shadowy agents already positioned at various stations. Watching.

And waiting.

Yet…

I couldn’t name what else was lingering in the air, taunting me as I followed Dublin up the stairs next. An inexplicable unease deepened the shadows stretching across the hallway. For some reason, I found myself holding my breath as he approached a closed door and palmed the doorknob.

“You can sleep in here,” he explained, pushing the door open.

Tension crept into my muscles, holding them rigid as I peered into the space beyond, wary of what I might find. Then…

I laughed, my eyes widened in shock. “Interesting color choice, Mr. Helos.”

The furniture was white. The bed, the wardrobe, the curtains, the sheets. Even the fur rug spread over the hardwood floors was a pale, delicate shade.

For all their brooding seriousness, apparently some vampires still retained a sense of humor.

“I thought you hated the color?”

“On you,” he admitted, but something in his gaze made me doubt that assertion. “I suppose it will do for décor.”

I grinned wickedly. “I should redecorate Gray Manor in the color scheme. White lace everywhere.”

He grimaced and I nearly clapped my hands in glee.

“Can you imagine?” I asked. “My room will resemble a biblical virgin’s paradise. I shall order doilies and I’m sure I could find a cradle that—” I broke off, confused by the careless admission. Cancer had been a pathetic denial to cling to—I could admit that now—but the inverse of that claim terrified me far more. Even acknowledging it to myself was a struggle. God, I couldn’t even look at Dublin.

“I’m sure that could be arranged.” His finger slipped under my chin, lifting it despite my attempts. He frowned, brushing his thumb across my lower lip. “Though there are other rooms to choose from if this one doesn’t satisfy you.”

“No.” Pushing past him, I approached the bed and ran my fingers over the delicate duvet. “This is perfect. Though”—I bit my lip—“it’s just that this bed is so very large…”

“Oh?” His gaze was awaiting mine when I looked over, swallowing me whole, body and soul. “It might cause a bit of inconvenience on my part, but I think I can find a solution to that.”

Heat sweltered in my blood. The hand I braced against the bed involuntarily clenched, seizing a fistful of soft fabric. At the same time, he reached for the door handle, shoving it back.

In retrospect, the bed wasn’t all that big. His body had to curve around mine just to fit. Neither he nor I were prone to hugs. So the arm he allowed to fall across my hip was merely there by necessity. The cool fingers that brushed my belly were accidental.

The shiver that racked my body was entirely from his chill alone.

Nothing else.

Regardless, I slept, unplagued by nightmares, his taste on my tongue.

And I knew, even as I drifted off, that my mother’s iron-grip on Gray Manor’s interior would most definitely come to an end.

A Company of Witches

“Oh dear.” Dmitri’s narrowed eyes flickered along the length of my body as I descended the stairs the next morning. “This will simply not do. You are dressed all wrong.”

“How so?” I fingered the hem of my skirt. It was a sensible cut, exquisitely detailed though relatively plain. “What’s wrong with it?”