Page 83 of Chain Me

“Helpful advice, considering you claimed it was an abomination,” I snapped. But as Dmitri raised an eyebrow, I realized I was shielding my belly with both hands.

“Ah, but that is where you misunderstood the meaning of the word, my darling.” He chuckled once and leaned back against the leather cushions of his seat. “Iam an abomination. As are Dublin and Raphael. Powerful, unfathomable creatures are always glitches in the grand design, or so I choose to believe. I will admit that even I do not understand the nuances of your predicament. Why would you require blood, for instance, when from what I can tell, you are persistently mortal? Perhaps the requirement is meant solely to mock him with what you may never become? Ah, but who could envision such a cruel torment?”

With that, he turned his attention to his giggling flight attendant and nuzzled her throat. Then he wrenched her head to one side and—

I turned to the window and didn’t dare take my eyes off the view until Dublin returned. He occupied the seat beside me without a word, resolute in whatever mood had been building in him since the moment Dmitri had arrived.

It all had to do with that name. The figure who had driven us out of the country and was no doubt awaiting our return.

The man who seemed to want me dead, though I didn’t even know why.

Mero.

Where the Lonely Roam

“Eleanor.”

A gentle pressure settled over my shoulder, jarring me awake. Blinking, I gradually pieced together my surroundings. Somewhere small. Darkened. Confined. A car—histo be exact. Dublin himself was driving, and a glance at the back seat revealed that Dmitri was nowhere in sight. I was sitting up front, slumped within a leather seat, my head propped against a firm, muscular forearm.

“We’re in the States,” Dublin explained while manipulating the steering wheel. “Not far from the city. It’s been about an hour since we landed. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Oh? I scrambled upright and peered through the windshield. Dawn painted the horizon in a mixture of pink and orange hues.

Already, I could sense my body protesting the change in time zone. Exhaustion weighed my eyelids down, and my stomach rumbled, voicing its displeasure at having been denied a solid meal in nearly a week. An unwelcome reminder, Dmitri’s warning invaded my thoughts.

“If you continue to be so reckless with your health, the results may be disastrous…”

Gritting my teeth, I banished him with a shake of my head. “Where to?” I asked Dublin, steeling myself for another whirlwind journey.

Another high-rise? Another distant country?

“Somewhere safe,” was his reply.

He was still wearing the same black suit, his hair only slightly mussed from the journey. I eyed his expression, hunting for a clue to feed on. A frown. A raised eyebrow. Anything.

The man didn’t even blink, remarkably closed-off.

“What about the books?” I didn’t spy them in the car anywhere. “And answers. And what if—”

“I’m handling it,” Dublin gently insisted. “You’ve been through a lot. At least allow yourself a few days to readjust—in fact, consider it nonnegotiable. I promise arrangements have been made in the meantime.”

Yet not even five minutes later, he parked and exited the vehicle without waiting for me. Or a word of explanation. Frozen with shock, I gaped after him, struggling to process our destination.

“Safe?” I hurried from the car, craning my neck to eye the structure before us in disbelief. “Here?”

As though Gray Manor wasn’t what loomed up ahead, Dublin leisurely strode to the front door.

“Trust me when I say that I can protect you here as well as I could anywhere else.”

But there was a caveat to his statement, I suspected. One betrayed by the subtle clenching of his jaw. This newfound protection had come at a price.

One he refused to reveal as he opened the door and ushered me inside with a wave of his hand.

“You have nothing to fear,” he insisted as I hesitated beyond the threshold.

I wasn’t sure if the words were meant to be comforting. They weren’t, considering that everyone from my sister to her mysterious club apparently wanted me dead.Plentyto fear in all respects.

Returning here at all—especially after what had happened in the crypt—felt like slathering myself in butter, ready for the slaughter. I eyed Dublin’s neutral expression as doubt strained my worn, battered nerves. My trust felt all but indebted to him after the way he’d cared for me. Yet…