Page 7 of Viktor’s Temptation (East Coast Territory #2)
Viktor watched her intently, unable to tear his gaze from the fascinating woman before him.
She was beautiful, yes—but there was something more.
Something about her vulnerability, her strength beneath the confusion, stirred a possessiveness in him that was both unexpected and deeply unsettling.
He prided himself on his control, yet Gracie was unraveling it effortlessly.
The fact that she had no idea of the effect she had on him only deepened his irritation.
She sat curled up on the sofa, arms wrapped tightly around herself, her brow furrowed as she tried to remember.
Viktor wanted to reach out, to offer his strength, but he held back, unsure if his touch would soothe her or frighten her further.
Her denial of what had happened to her was frustrating, but he understood.
The transition was painful and bewildering, especially when forced upon someone without consent.
But Viktor suspected this transformation wasn’t random—it was connected to the bodies his men had found, the ones that had baffled both the police and his clan.
The threads of the mystery were tangled, and Gracie held a key, even if she didn’t yet realize it.
“Please, tell me what happened,” he urged, his voice low and coaxing. “Go back to the last thing you remember.”
Gracie lowered her head, and Viktor’s gaze was drawn to the elegant curve of her neck. The sight of her long, delicate throat, with its pale skin and faint blue veins, sent a wave of longing through him. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to focus on her words as she struggled to answer.
“The last thing I remember is…” She bit her lower lip in thought, then yelped softly as her fangs punctured the skin. “Ouch!”
He smiled gently, pushing aside the desire to lean closer. “You’ll learn to control them,” he reassured her, an amused spark to his grey eyes.
“How?” she asked, her fingers brushing the tiny punctures, a drop of blood welling briefly before it disappeared.
“I’ll teach you,” he promised, waving her question aside for now. “But first, I need to know how you were transitioned.”
She dropped her head again, and Viktor’s eyes betrayed him, once more drawn to the vulnerable line of her neck. When she looked up again, her dark hair cascaded forward, shielding her throat from view, and he exhaled slowly, regaining his composure.
“What is today’s date?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“Why?”
“Because I’m trying to think back,” she explained, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. “You asked me to tell you the last thing I remember.”
He nodded, watching as she closed her eyes, as though retreating inward to search for clarity.
“I remember being really tired from my job,” she began haltingly. “I am… I was a nurse. A surgical nurse.” Her voice cracked slightly, and she wiped at her eyes. “I loved my job. My patients. Taking care of them.”
“At which hospital do you work?” Viktor prompted, leaning forward.
“Memorial Hospital,” she replied, her voice a little steadier.
“Then you know Dr. Hurst?” he asked, his tone tightening.
Her face lit up briefly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Everyone knows Dr. Hurst. He’s the hospital stud.”
Viktor’s jaw tightened. His eyes darkened as a hot spike of jealousy coursed through him. “But of course, you have better judgment than most, don’t you?”
Gracie blinked at his tone, her smile fading as she caught the edge in his voice. “Dr. Hurst is an excellent surgeon,” she said carefully, shrugging. “But he’s a bit of a player. He prefers thin, attractive women. I’m just the invisible, dumpy nurse that hands him tools.”
His eyes narrowed, the intensity of his gaze making her squirm.
“You will avoid Hurst, Gracie,” he said firmly.
She tilted her head, startled by his bluntness. “Are you jealous, by any chance?”
“Yes,” he admitted without hesitation, his honesty hitting her like a physical blow.
Her lips parted in surprise, and she averted her gaze, staring down at her knees. “You… I… I don’t understand why,” she stammered. “I mean, I suspect you’re trying to flatter me, but…” Her voice trailed off, her confusion deepening.
“Tell me about the last day you remember,” Viktor said, steering her back to her memories, though his irritation over Hurst simmered beneath the surface.
She licked her lips nervously, a gesture that sent his attention briefly back to her mouth.
“It was a long day,” she began, her hands twisting again.
“We had a difficult surgery—a biker who’d been in an accident.
Multiple broken bones, severe lacerations, a massive concussion.
” She stopped, glancing at him. “You don’t need all those details, do you? ”
“Every detail is important,” he replied, his tone firm. “Sometimes the smallest detail can reveal something crucial.”
She nodded, her voice steadier now. “It was late when I got home. Warren…” Her voice faltered, and she looked away.
“Who is Warren?” Viktor asked, his voice low and sharp.
Gracie hesitated, her hands tightening into fists. “He’s… my fiancé,” she admitted reluctantly.
Viktor’s lips thinned, his expression darkening. “Your fiancé,” he repeated, the word dripping with disdain. “And what happened when you got home?”
Her brow furrowed as she struggled to piece together the memories. “He was angry. About dinner, I think. He said I should have been home to cook.”
“You work long hours,” Viktor said, his tone hard. “Why was he angry?”
She looked up at him, trying to maintain a blank facade, to not show her revulsion at Warren’s laziness.
“He’s unemployed,” she said flatly, her voice tinged with bitterness.
“He was fired two months ago and hasn’t bothered to look for a new job.
It’s my salary that pays the bills.” She clutched her head, her frustration mounting as she tried to make sense of her jumbled thoughts.
“Did he hurt you?” Viktor’s voice was dangerously soft.
She flinched, her hands dropping to her lap. “I… he slapped me,” she admitted quietly. “That night.”
Viktor’s hands tightened into fists, his fury barely contained. “He dared to lay a hand on you?”
Gracie nodded, tears pricking her eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. “I’m never going back to him. Not after that.”
“It does matter,” Viktor growled, his jealousy now mingled with anger. “And he will pay for what he’s done.”
Her silver eyes met his, wide and startled. “You don’t have to—”
“I do,” Viktor interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. “You are under my protection now, Gracie. And I do not tolerate harm to those in my care.”
His words sent a flicker of warmth through her, despite her lingering fear. For the first time in a long time, she felt like someone was truly on her side.
“Do you cook often?” Viktor asked, his tone light but his eyes sharp, as though he were studying her every move.
Gracie laughed softly, shaking her head. “No. I make a mean grilled cheese and open a can of soup, but there are weeks when I’m too tired from work to do more than just make popcorn for dinner.”
“Sounds delicious,” he teased, his lips curving into a faint smile.
Gracie tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her silver eyes. “Do you… eat normal food?”
He chuckled, the deep sound curling around her like a caress. “I enjoy delicacies occasionally. Wine is my preference.” His grin widened, his tone turning playful. “You’ll enjoy enhanced senses as well as incredible strength, among other powers.”
Her heart thudded against her ribs, the rhythm erratic and unnerving. “Enhanced senses? What do you mean?”
He tapped his nose lightly. “A vampire’s sense of smell is far superior to a human’s. And we can hear better than most animals. Once you adjust, you’ll start to notice other people’s heartbeats. You’ll be able to smell their blood—and sometimes other things, less… pleasant.”
Gracie leaned forward, captivated despite herself. “What kinds of scents aren’t pleasant?”
He shrugged casually, as if discussing the weather. “Garbage. Rotting food. Just as you’ll smell blood, with all its subtleties—like illness or disease like cancer or diabetes—you’ll also be overwhelmed by things like heavy cologne or someone who hasn’t bathed recently.”
“You can smell things like cancer in someone’s blood?” she asked, her voice soft with awe.
“You can too now,” Viktor replied evenly.
She blinked, pulling back slightly. “I’m not…”
“I know. You’re still not convinced you’re a vampire.” He sighed, giving her a look of exasperated affection. “All evidence to the contrary.”
Gracie rubbed her temples, her mind spinning. “This can’t be real,” she murmured. “It just… can’t.”
Viktor leaned forward slightly, his presence magnetic, his tone softening. “Tell me about that night. You came home late. What time?”
She bit her lip, the action sending another small thrill through her when her tongue brushed against her sharp fangs. “I’m not sure. I think it was around nine-thirty? The surgery finished at seven, but I stayed to make sure the patient came out of anesthesia okay.”
“That’s very conscientious of you,” Viktor said, his voice warm.
Gracie flushed and shrugged awkwardly. “I enjoy working with my patients. I want to know they’re doing well.”
Viktor nodded, clearly approving. “What time did you leave the hospital?”
“A little after nine,” she replied. “Maybe closer to nine-fifteen. It’s a ten-minute drive home, so I should have been home by nine-thirty, maybe a little later.”
“Did you notice anyone unusual at the hospital or in the parking lot?” Viktor’s gaze sharpened, his intensity drawing her back into her jumbled memories.
Gracie stared down at her hands, fidgeting as she tried to think. But Viktor was sitting so close, his sheer presence making it impossible to focus. And then there was the other issue—that she was a vampire! A monster! How could she think clearly when her very identity felt like it was unraveling?