Page 7 of The Vampire Court
He’s beautiful, even as my mind struggles to understand what’s happening.
My heart hammers in my chest. I’m frozen to the spot, too shocked to remember how to move.
“Defend yourself,” he snarls, bringing his face within a hair’s breadth of mine. “Defend yourself or die.”
The air whooshes out of me in a single breath. “A-Alaric?”
A growl issues up from deep within his chest. I flinch.
He’s going to kill me.
The space between heartbeats stretches on as time seems to slow to a stop.
I don’t understand.Sleep clings to my mind as I struggle to come up with an explanation for his mood change.
An ache forms in my chest. Somewhere in the time that I had fallen asleep, he changed from my friend into a monster that is seconds from ripping my throat out. I squeeze my eyes shut against the burning that rises. A single traitorous tear slips out of the corner of one eye.
Alaric’s weight is gone as he shifts to the side. “Clara?”
I don’t move.
Alaric’s thumb brushes across my temple, wiping away the tear. Then his arms are around me, pulling me into him. “I’m sorry. That was obviously the wrong way to do things.”
My eyes snap open. I press my hands against his chest and shove backward. He releases me without a fight.
I flop back onto the pillows. “The wrong way to… what?” I snap.
He ducks his head. “You need to learn to defend yourself. I should have been adamant about it long before now.”
I rise to sit, glaring down on him. “And you thought attacking me as a wakeup call, without warning, was a good way to go about that?”
“You must always be prepared. You can trust no one here—and even if you think you can, you must treat them as if they will turn on you when you least expect it.” He reaches his hand up, but I push it away.
I set my jaw, teeth clenched, and ask, “And you? Can I trust you, Alaric?”
He takes me in as my heart continues to drum against my chest. I tell myself that it’s from the way he woke me and not because of the way his messy hair falls across his forehead, half obscuring one eye… or the way he seems to look through me to who I am… as if he knows me even when I don’t.
Slowly, he rises and leans forward. “I will do everything I can to keep you safe while we are here, but no, my dear, Clara, you should not even trust me.”
* * *
Exiting the bathing room,I pause to take in the opulent main room. Brocade curtains and a wall-to-ceiling double door leading to a rotund balcony. The four-poster bed is large enough to fit several people. Drapes hang from each post, tied back with thick, braided, golden ropes. The bed is situated on the opposite wall of the black stone fireplace. A large painting above it has been turned around to display only the back of the canvas.
I forget about the oddly positioned painting when movement catches my attention. Alaric leans against the bed, straightening out the cuff of a sleeve. Cherno is perched on his shoulder, quiet and barely moving. The demon’s entire demeanor has changed since arriving.
Alaric looks up and smiles, uncertainty lingering in his expression. “I really hope you can forgive me for this morning. There’s no excuse for my actions, regardless of my intentions.”
He lifts Cherno off his shoulder and whispers something to him before setting him down on the bed.
“It’s all right,” I say, waving off his apology. I don’t want to dwell on it, I don’t want to examine how betrayed I feel or how my chest aches as if a fissure has ripped its ways across the surface of my heart, threatening to rent it in two. “I was startled, that’s all.”
I don’t meet his gaze as I cross to the mirror and run my fingers through my hair to keep my hands busy.
“I will teach you how to defend yourself,” he says.
The words glide across my cheek. He takes my hair and lays it over one shoulder. I watch his reflection in the mirror. His gaze is locked on the bare skin of the crook of my neck.
“I don’t trust anyone here.”