Page 5 of The Vampire Curse

Alaric’s warm breath brushes over my ear, sending a tingling sensation skittering down my spine.

I spin, nearly losing my balance, and catch myself on the fence.

Alaric takes a step back. The sun guilds his black hair bringing out hints of blue in the shining strands.

“What are you doing out right now? I thought the sun…” I trail off, not entirely sure what I thought. I only know that Mr. Steward told me to wait until midday before leaving my rooms.

Alaric inches closer, dipping his head as if he will whisper a secret. “The sun doesn’t kill us—if that’s what you thought. It weakens our powers, so most vampires prefer to sleep at this time. We are demon cursed, not demons themselves.”

“You don’t sleep during the day?” I ask.

He smiles. “Sometimes, but I wanted to talk with you in private.” He moves closer, caging me in with his arms, though it’s hardly necessary with his body pinning me to the fence.

We have been more intimate than this before, but there’s also something different about this moment.

“What are you doing?”

Alaric pulls in a breath, then offers a rueful smile. “Ah, yes.” He pulls back slightly. “You see, my guests are watching from the window. They believe you are marked, so if we keep our distance, it would seem odd, and they might guess the truth. So, unless you wish me to give you the mark…”

I don’t want it, so I play along. I lift a hand and run my fingers through his hair. This feels awkward. I’m not sure what to do with my other hand, but after a moment’s hesitation, I settle with resting it on his upper arm.

“Good girl,” Alaric says, but there’s no joy in his tone or expression.

If I didn’t know better, I would say he was disappointed.

Pretending for others feels wrong. Every time we’ve been close in the past, it justhappened. But that doesn’t stop my heart from hammering at his nearness now.

“So, do you?” he asks.

I lick my lips and try to remember what we are talking about. “Do I what?”

“Ride.” Alaric angles his head in the direction of the horses.

I have seen horses, I’ve been near them, but I’ve never so much as touched one, let alone ridden one. No one in Littlemire rode horses. They were beasts of burden, tools for people to use. Only the rich owned them, taking them riding on hunts as part of their celebrations.

“No, I have never had occasion to.”

“Then,” he says, moving to the side and leaping over the fence in a single, fluid motion. The horse with the white mark on its forehead trots up to him the moment his feet land. “Perhaps, this is a perfect opportunity.”

Alaric mounts the horse without a saddle or reins.

But when he holds a hand out, beckoning me to him, I have no choice but to squeeze my way between the gaps in the fence boards and go to him.

I stop beside him. Sitting astride the horse, he towers over me, and I have to crane my neck back to look up at him.

The animal is massive and made of solid muscle. Alaric sits with his legs straddling the beast, but I, however, am wearing a dress. I’m not sure how this will work.

I take a deep breath and slip my hand into his. He effortlessly pulls me up in front of him.

My eyes widen. This is so high off the ground and sitting as I am, I feel as though I could slip and fall off at any moment.

The horse shifts impatiently. I let out a small squeak.

“Are you all right?”

“I—yes, but will I fall?”

“I would never let you fall,” he says. At first, I think he’s teasing me, but his face is serious. “You can put one leg on either side of the horse if that would make you more comfortable.”