Page 72 of Vampire so Virtuous (Boston Vampires #1)

Antoine led her out of the back entrance of Minh’s club—the club formerly belonging to Minh.

“Gray SUVs,” she noted bitterly. “I didn’t tell you, but his thralls killed an innocent retired doctor, just because I was there at the time.”

He squeezed her hand. “Not your fault, ma chérie. We are not responsible for the actions of others.”

“I know, but still.” She shook her head. Then, more fiercely, “I’m glad you killed him. What is the point of being a powerful witch if I can’t even stop a vampire like Minh? All this magic I supposedly have, and I couldn’t even—”

She broke off as they reached the black shutter gate, torn off its mountings. “It’s never hard to guess which entrance you used, is it?”

Antoine’s face hardened, his pale blue eyes flashing red. “I don’t like being kept from you.”

“Clearly,” she said dryly, but added her other hand to their clasp. “I think I’m warming to that theme.”

The sharpness in his eyes softened, replaced by something deeper—a quiet hunger. “Let’s go home,” he said.

She’d missed his intense, broody gazes. “More than ready. Did you bring your car?”

“You blew it up.”

“I told you that wasn’t me. And you have another.”

“I left it in the middle of Route 9 when the traffic got too heavy.”

She stared at him. “You abandoned your car in the middle of the road?”

He shrugged. “I was in a rush.”

“Well, now it will have been impounded,” she said. “I suppose we could get an Uber.”

“I could carry you, ma chérie. ”

“Thought you’d never ask,” she said, and pushed against his arm.

He blinked, his expression flickering between surprise and pleasure. Then, without hesitation, he bent and swept her off her feet. “It is always my honor to carry you like this.”

She laid her hand against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin where the vampire spawns had torn through his T-shirt with their teeth and claws. “I’m sorry about your coat. Will you be warm enough?”

“How could I be cold with you in my arms?”

With an exhilarating whoosh, he shot up through the parking garage, shadows curling around them. He barely paused at the street before leaping to the nearest rooftop.

The rain hit fast and hard, drenching them in seconds.

“I forgot it was raining,” she said, pulling up her hood and snuggling closer against his chest for warmth.

The lights of the city flashed past as he leaped from building to building, but she kept her face buried in the crook of his neck, hiding from the rain and wind.

She recognized his scent—subtle cologne and the pleasing hint of musk that lay beneath—but this time, there was no trace of leather from his coat.

Instead, she smelled the metallic tang of blood covering his clothes and skin, a reminder of the evening’s violence.

“You need a shower.”

“We both do. You smell of Minh.”

“Yuck. Do I? How repulsive.”

“He’s dead now. We can wash this stench from our bodies and never have to consider him again.”

The words hung between them, and it was as if Cally had already forgotten the dead vampire and his wraith-like spawn.

Her thoughts shifted to the idea of sharing a shower with Antoine.

He’d gone quiet, as if reflecting on what he’d just said.

She wondered if he was thinking what she was, or if his mind was still consumed with memories of the carnage.

“Is it really over?” she asked, hoping to help settle his thoughts.

“I hope so, ma chérie . It is a time of instability, but I am more powerful than I have ever been—largely due to you—and, with any fortune, we will ride it out until the Curia leaves and normality returns.”

Below, skyscrapers gave way to smaller, residential apartment blocks. The rain had soaked through all her clothing, and she shivered with the cold, pressing herself closer to him, seeking warmth. He held her tighter in response.

“Thank you for coming for me.”

“Of course, ma chérie . I always will. We are bonded now.”

Yes, they were bonded—and what a double-edged sword that was.

It was ironic: she’d finally accepted that he wasn’t the monster she’d always thought him to be, yet to him, she’d always be a chattel.

Food. A necessity for survival. And now, because of the bond, his weakness too.

Belle had said no vampire of power would ever tie themselves to a witch.

“I’m sorry about the bond. I know it… troubles you.”

“Not at all, ma chérie. I told you just this morning. Have you forgotten? The promise of it thrills me.”

He had said that, and somehow, she’d forgotten. No, not forgotten—it had simply been lost in the whirlwind of the day.

“Was it really only this morning?” she said. “So much has happened since then.” The sudden shift in her mind was dizzying. Zoey and Noah, unconscious in the car. Gabe, feeding on her as he gave her his resistance, the bite already healed and faded.

Joon, dead on his mats while the dojang burned.

She was silent, her thoughts tangled in a rush of guilt and anger—mixing chaotically with Antoine’s cautious hopes for their future.

I couldn’t do anything.

The weight of it pressed down on her chest. She wanted to scream, to rail against the unfairness of it all, but only a shaky breath escaped her. She buried her face in his chest, seeking warmth, trying to hold onto something real.

Antoine’s fingers brushed through her wet hair, his voice a soft murmur. “It’s over, ma cherie. We are safe now.”

“I was thinking of Joon,” she said, her voice cracking.

“Minh killed him in front of me, and I… I couldn’t…

” She exhaled sharply, the frustration and anger flooding into that one breath.

“I want to get stronger, Antoine. I want to learn what I can do as a witch. I never want to be that helpless again.”

“I know how heavy the loss feels.” His voice carried the weight of conviction and personal experience. He lingered in silence. “There might be things we could discover. But if such ancient records survived, we would not find them in America.”

She pulled back to look at his face. “Europe?”

“ Oui. But it is complicated. I cannot merely walk into another vampire’s territory and help myself to their resources.”

“Are there ways?”

“There are always ways.” He hesitated, lips pressed thin. “The vampires in Europe are old and powerful. Even now, I would be nothing to them.” He looked down at her. “You have experienced Belle for yourself, yet even she is far from the top of the European hierarchy. ”

Cally imagined vampires more powerful than Belle, but with no reason to help them. She shivered.

“Let me think on it,” Antoine said. “But I will help you, ma chérie, whatever it takes.”

“Thank you.” His promise opened a path to strength, and some peace came with it.

She saw Joon’s body again and clenched her jaw.

Next time, she’d be better prepared. “My mom.” Cally’s voice softened as her mind circled back to the thought.

“I learned she was bitten by a vampire, hours before I was born. Do you think that’s why I’m a witch? ”

“In truth, I don’t know, ma cherie. This is as much news to me as it is to you. But it seems possible, does it not? Likely, even.” He paused. “Belle might know.”

“I don’t want to ask her,” she said quickly. “The ‘how’ of it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“I suppose not.” Another pause. “Your mother. Did she live?”

“No.”

“I am sorry for your loss.” He sounded genuine, his voice tinged with guilt—and something else, something darker. Self-loathing. She knew instinctively.

“We are not responsible for the actions of others, Antoine.”

“A timely reminder, ma chérie, thank you.” He cleared his throat. “This is why you went to Milton?”

“Yes.”

“Busy day.” He made a wry sound, causing his chest to vibrate against her. “ Terror. Pouvoir. Excitation. ”

“What?”

“Nothing, just a memory. Forget I said anything.”

“You must have a lot of memories.”

“That is true, but I look forward to making some new ones. Maybe even some happy ones.” He was quiet for several soaring leaps. Then, “Do you think we could be happy?”

Her breath caught in her throat. He sounded wistful, almost… human. Asking her if they could be happy together. A chattel and a vampire—no, a witch and a vampire. That sounded better, somehow.

Her lips curved against his neck. “I don’t know, Antoine. Are you still blaming me for your Lamborghini?”

A stunned silence, then he laughed aloud. “You know, I never liked that car. I bought it on a whim, and largely at Marcel’s encouragement.”

“So I did you a favor. ”

“Perhaps, ma cherie. And yet, some part of me wishes to make you pay for it. Over and over again.”

She shivered at those words. “You could buy another one easily.”

“True.”

“I could blow that one up, too.”

He chuckled. “And I would have to make you pay.”

“Over and over?”

“Exactement.”

“Are we nearly there?” She was ready to be there.

“A few more minutes.”

And then they could shut the world out and be alone.

“Oh! I sent Eve to you. For her safety. I was worried that she… that Minh might…”

“I understand. A moment, please.” He was silent long enough to make two leaps. “Noah tells me she is asleep in her room, and, rather concerningly, she has taken my copy of the Le Comte de Monte-Cristo with her . Can she read French?”

Cally exhaled, both relieved and amused. “Uh, I don’t know? I doubt it?”

“It is as I feared. She means to blackmail me.”

“Just her way of looking out for me.”

“A reminder that I should behave myself?”

“Exac-ter-mong,” Cally imitated, deliberately butchering the accent.

Antoine winced, and she surprised herself with a giggle.

“And you call me a monster,” he said.

“Not anymore I don’t.”

He said nothing, his silence stretching out. “But I am a monster.”

She knew how he saw himself, and she couldn’t hope to undo the damage of so many lifetimes in one night—especially a night where she’d watched as he’d literally torn a vampire’s head off.

Instead, she licked at the side of his neck. “Then be a monster, Antoine. But be my monster.”