Page 7

Chapter 6

Rolf

“D o you mind?” the vampire asked, holding the weakened rabbit in the air. He followed her finger as she pointed to the sink.

“By all means. I hate cleaning blood off my floors.” And he didn’t like cleaning up unnecessary spills. He turned to the fire, giving her his back, even though each time he did so, he could feel her glacial stare driving into him. It took every ounce of willpower he had to keep his heart steady when he felt so vulnerable.

Rolf shaped the end of the stick into a needle-thin point. He turned it in his hands, finally satisfied that it was as sharp as he could get it, and set it down on the floor next to his chair. It was an old habit, constantly finding and making weapons out of whatever he had nearby:—a sharp stick, his axe, a heavy rock—even his bare hands had worked on more than one occasion.

His skills were varied, but they all centered around one thing: survival.

The fire popped as the wood split and fell into the ash. To save himself the agony of hearing his guest bite into the poor dying creature, he grabbed a few logs and threw them into the flames. Sparks flew every which way as the green wood fought against the flame. Smoke filled part of the cabin, so he stalked to the nearest window and cracked it. Snow poured in and melted upon contact with the warm window ledge.

He stood there for a few moments, breathing in the fresh air so he wouldn’t have to smell the coppery tang of fresh blood. It was a scent that repulsed him, and the vampire could barely contain her noises as she ate. It took all he had not to react to the abrasiveness of the sound of the squishy, twitching rabbit in her mouth.If he had hackles, they’d be raised. It was the most unforgiving sound he had heard in a while.

The vampire was not going to leave. He knew this as he stared out the window, the snow piling higher and higher against the side of his home.A storm of this magnitude was at least a month early, and given the volume of snow falling, it would be late in the spring before it melted again. He was thankful he at least had the wherewithal to replenish his woodpile the other week. But food? Rations? He hadn’t had a chance to harvest the rest of his garden. All of those root vegetables and squashes are now buried underneath at least three feet of snow.

And if he were to have an unwanted guest for a few more days, how on earth would he be able to keep her from his neck? The rabbit was the only source of blood he had, besides his own. And the gods themselves would have to come hold him down before he offered himself up.

He had a plan, and all he needed was for the rabbit blood to work its way through her system. He shuddered and rotated the spear in his hands.

“I’m finished,” she said. “You can turn now. Don’t worry, I am a clean eater.”

Doubtful, he thought as his stomach swirled. As slowly and casually as he could manage, he closed the window and pivoted to focus on her face. She had managed to keep everything clean. Not even the stain of fresh blood marred her porcelain skin?—

Her vampire skin, he silently corrected himself.

Rolf watched as her fingers lingered on the corner of her rose-colored mouth. Though he had originally tried his best not to look the night before as he undressed her from her wet clothing, now, in the light of the cabin and the roaring fire, he had to peel his eyes off her curves. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, centering himself again.

She had to be influencing him. He had heard about the Vampire doing this, rumors that swirled in the seedy underbellies of the cities he had passed through. But all this time, he thought that’s what they were—rumors.

But now? His eyes snapped open, and her icy glare met him, along with a question.

“How did you know?” she asked. Her hands moved deftly in her hair, taking out countless pins and shaking out the tresses.

Her amber-and-vanilla scent filled the room, and images of cobblestones wet with rain mingled with the blossoming of late-summer flowers. He watched entranced as she smoothed her hair and twisted it into a knot at the top of her head, and her fingers wove the pins back in. They disappeared seamlessly into the dark depths of her curls, and he wondered why she didn’t leave her hair down.

“You have a slow heartbeat.” Rolf leaned back against the windowsill. “And with how cold and wet you were, you should have been dead hours ago. And yet…”

He gestured to her clothing and then, finally, to her.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, humming in agreement. “And yet, here I stand.”

“And here you stand.” Rolf squinted, unwilling to let her read him.

Her eyes fluttered down and back up, then quickly looked away. He almost smirked when her gaze flicked back to his arms.

“So, vampire.” He almost growled the words. He couldn’t help it. He loathed her kind with every fiber of his being. Not only did he hate them, but he had also practically driven them out of his woods over the years single-handedly. It wasn’t something he ever set out to do. It was just in his nature. “Tell me, why are you here? In my woods, armed to the teeth? What had you ‘walking for hours’ so close to daylight?”

“Adeline,” she snapped back. “The name is Adeline. I might be a vampire, but I do have a name. I’d prefer you to use it.”

The corner of his mouth curved into a sardonic smile. Her name rolled around in his head for a moment. It was a pretty name, simple, but as with all mythical creatures who resided in the human world, names held much meaning. “Adeline. That’s an interesting name. ‘Nobility’ in the old language, correct?”

A subtle dip of her chin gave it away.

“Choosing to be tight-lipped now, hmm?” he asked, pushing away from the window and stepping closer to her.

Adeline held her ground and straightened her back. He stepped even closer, and still, she didn’t shrink away. Which meant she hadn’t figured him out yet, either. That was good. It could work in his favor.

“Adeline, of noble birth. Vampire huntress. How are you able to be awake in the daylight?” He narrowed his eyes as he looked down at her. They were almost chest-to-chest. Rather, he was a good twelve inches taller, so he was chest-to-her-head. Her eyes stared at the pulsing vein in his neck.

He stepped even closer, and her face betrayed nothing, but her breath hitched. Her eyes were unwavering as they met his scrutinizing gaze, and he could have sworn she was immune to the electricity between them as her body swayed closer to his. She looked like such a delicate creature, her curves begging to be free of the countless layers of cotton undergarments. And gods, how he loved a woman with a body he could really sink into. The thought caused his blood to rush to his ears, and he cursed inwardly, wondering if this was because his loneliness had finally gotten the better of him or if she was playing with his emotions. He always knew it would be hard to live alone, but he hadn’t realized how hungry his own body would be for touch.

And now, of course, his flesh threatened to betray him. But he wouldn’t give in. Not yet.

Push her to the edge, he thought. See how easily she snaps.