Page 11 of Crimson Oath (The Firebird and the Wolf #2)

Tatyana

S he went to Samson’s quarters with her backpack ready, expecting the accommodating wind vampire to be ready to take her. It was her scheduled night to call her mother, and she only had two hours to find a connection.

But Samson started shaking his head the moment he opened his door.

Not tonight, he signed.

“What do you mean?” Tatyana whispered. “It’s Omar Sharif’s birthday, and I only have two hours.”

Samson had come to his door wearing nothing but an open white shirt and a pair of loose black pants. Arosh told me that you need to stop going into town, he signed.

“But why? I’m not bothering anyone.” Shit. If her mother didn’t get a call, she was going to panic, and then Anna would probably call Oleg because apparently they were getting together for tea regularly and Oleg had sent her mother a new-to-her vehicle for the farm.

The fact that the vampire knew her mother would never take a new truck and had sent her one with just enough wear that it could be accepted as a present irked Tatyana to no end .

The man was too perceptive by half.

Samson continued, Arosh says you need to be planning for where you are going next, not playing video games online.

“Oh my god, does Arosh think I’m playing video games?”

Okay, she was playing video games sometimes, but very badly and only so she could use the direct-message features to talk to Grimace about options to disappear.

Samson shrugged and didn’t look pleased about it, but he also didn’t look like he was in the mood to defy Arosh.

No one in the compound was going to defy Arosh.

Stay here, Samson signed. You don’t need to go anywhere if you don’t want to. You don’t have to run.

Tatyana nearly growled. “That’s not what Kato and Arosh seem to think.”

Samson’s eyes burned into her, and he stepped forward. Stay here, he signed. With me.

Tatyana felt her heart stumble. She lifted her eyes from Samson’s beautiful chest and to his ghostly, pale grey eyes. His features appeared carved out of the rocks that surrounded them, but his lips were full and gentle.

She knew he was prized as a lover in the harem, and women were quick to share his skills, but though Tatyana had felt a sexual pull, she had never acted on it. She was short on friends in the immortal world, and losing one for a sexual fling didn’t seem like a great idea.

Stay with me, and he won’t send you anywhere, Samson signed. We could be happy, Tatyana. You could be content with me.

He had given her a nickname in the language he used, a T sign that curved from his temple down his jaw, mimicking the way her long hair fell into her face sometimes.

“Do you…” Tatyana didn’t know what to think. “Do you really care for me, Samson? Or are you just worried that I’ve got nowhere else to go?”

He signed nothing else, but she saw the truth in his eyes.

Not love. No, it was nothing that passionate, but caring. Concern. And yes, desire. Who was to say what might happen in a year? In two? In a decade?

“You know, before I met him” —she felt tears threatening her eyes— “you were exactly the kind of man I was looking for. You’re kind. Thoughtful. You take care of people. You are very handsome.” She laughed a little bit. “And you make me feel peaceful.”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. Those are good things.

“I know.” She nodded and forced a smile. “I’m not saying I don’t feel it.” She stepped closer and kept her voice low. “I could probably fall in love with you if I let myself.”

Samson pulled her into his room, closed the door, and bent down, cupping her cheeks with both hands and pressing his lips to hers in a velvet kiss.

His energy touched hers, then pulled back, glancing against her amnis in a delicate dance as his lips softly moved against her own.

It was gentle and tempting. Tatyana knew she was right.

If she let herself, she could fall head over heels for this gently powerful man.

She felt the elemental strength he wielded floating in the air around her, and the silken press of his lips against hers was mimicked by the brush of air against her skin.

It wasn’t a roar of passion. It wasn’t a roar at all. Samson’s kiss was a seductive whisper, and part of her yearned to cling to the safety he offered even if it wasn’t with her whole heart.

You are mine! Oleg’s voice roared in Tatyana’s mind. You belong to me only. Not to anyone else. Only to me.

Tatyana pressed her hand to Samson’s chest, and he immediately withdrew. “I can’t. I shouldn’t.”

The vampire heaved a deep sigh, cocked his head to the side, and signed, The Varangian?

Tatyana shook her head. “I don’t know how I feel about him.

Does that make any sense? I hate him, but he’s in my blood.

Until I get more distance from him, more time…

” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You deserve someone who wants to stay here for you , not because she’s on the run and only wants to be safe. ”

The corner of Samson’s mouth turned up, and he stroked a hand over her shoulder. That’s not the only reason you’d be happy here. We could be very good together.

“Maybe someday we will be,” Tatyana whispered. “But if I stay right now, you’ll always wonder if I stayed for you or because I had no place else to go. You know I’m right.”

Samson dropped his hand from her shoulder and looked away, pursing his full lips. Then he bit his lip a little bit and shook his head. What do you want me to do?

“Can you tell Arosh I’m looking for a place to go?” Tatyana asked. “Can you tell him I need this time to find some options that don’t involve going back to Oleg?”

I’ll tell him —Samson stepped back and quickly buttoned his shirt— when we get back from calling your mother. He glanced at an old clock on the small table by the door. After all, it’s almost Omar Sharif’s birthday.

The creeping feeling that someone was watching her never went away even when Tatyana hunkered down in a corner of the quiet bar. Samson remained near the door as he always did, and there were no visible security cameras, though that was no guarantee they weren’t there.

Cameras could masquerade as anything now, though most clubs and bars wanted the patrons to know they were being watched for security reasons.

She’d logged on, caught up with her mother, listened to her mother talk about the lavender border Oleg had planted on the narrow road leading to Anna’s house, and then she’d quickly logged into her accounts, left a message for Grimace, and flown back to Arosh’s compound with Samson .

She’d been looking over her shoulder all night, so returning to the tightly controlled compound felt like a relief. She still remembered the overwhelming feeling of safety the first time she’d flown in. The first night she felt secure.

Understanding more about vampire life now, Tatyana knew that it was an illusion. All of it was an illusion. There was no true safety in this world—there was only struggle, negotiation, and finding short seasons of reprieve before it all started over again.

This was not a restful life, but her mother was still alive. As long as Anna was alive, Tatyana would be too.

When her mother passed? She couldn’t say. That was too long in the future. For now her only focus was finding a safe and relatively stable place to rest her head.

And drink some blood.

She tapped on the numbered door that belonged to the next woman on Cora’s list.

Sibella Ardelian. Room 315.

Not a name she’d heard before. Armenian maybe?

Having a room in the 300s meant that Sibella was new to the compound, so Tatyana was hoping strongly that Sibella wasn’t new to vampire feeding. She still felt like an awkward newcomer to the exchange.

A voice came from behind the door. “Who is it?”

She spoke thickly accented English, so Tatyana responded in English as well.

“I’m Tatyana Vorona. Cora said you would be expecting me?”

The woman opened her door, and Tatyana looked down. She was tiny and petite, rubbing dark brown eyes that were thickly lashed as she yawned.

“I thought you were coming at dusk.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Sorry, I went to sleep because I guessed that you had fed from someone else.” Her brown eyes turned from sleepy to suspicious. “You’re Tatyana?”

“Yes. ”

“Do you have an ID?”

What an odd question. “No.”

“Then how do I know that you’re her?”

Tatyana was irritated now. “Do a lot of young female vampires live here that I don’t know about? If you don’t want to give me your blood, there are six other names on my list.” She started to turn.

“Wait!” Sibella called out. “I suppose you are right. Come in.”

If she was new, maybe she didn’t realize how secure Arosh’s compound was. Perhaps that was the reason for her overt suspicion.

“No human has ever been killed by a vampire in Arosh’s home.” Tatyana walked in, and Sibella pointed to a table where she set her backpack. “You must be new.”

“So are you.” Sibella walked over and turned on the lamp beside the bed. “Because I guarantee you some humans have been killed here.”

“How do you know?” Tatyana took a seat on the short sofa near a low bookcase. It looked like the most comfortable place to take the woman’s blood.

“Because you’re vampires,” Sibella said with a wave of her hand. “Accidents happen. You just want blood, right?” She’d walked over to the small kitchenette and was drinking a tall glass of water. “I don’t do sex with women or old men, but if you get affectionate, I don’t care so much.”

“No problem. I just want blood. I don’t like connecting the two either. Makes things…” She flashed to a memory of Oleg at her vein. “Makes things complicated.”

“Giving blood is always complicated.” Sibella rubbed her fingers together in the universal sign for money. “But lucrative for me.”

“Is that why you came?” She noticed that Sibella didn’t seem shy or insecure in the least. The longer she spent with the young woman, the more she set Tatyana at ease.