He wasn’t large and bulky like Bobby, but had a quieter, more lithe strength. I was supposed to hate him. After all, he’d made me this blood-sucking aberration. But as I watched him, all I could hate was the fact my fingers itched to trail through the dark hair streaming over his shoulders. I could only hope he never realized it, never saw me staring when he wasn’t looking, but sometimes I was afraid he knew me better than I knew myself. It wasn’t a comforting feeling.

The book in Nathanial’s lap snapped shut. He tossed it on the table and leaned back in his chair. He reached up, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. If he’d been human enough to sigh, I think he would have at that moment, but he only wasted energy on breathing to speak and for show. As if a silent alarm went off in his head, his hand dropped, and he turned, peering into the darkness where I stood.

Caught.

I stepped through the doorway, and Nathanial flowed to his feet.

He glided across the kitchen. Awareness of his presence filled the space around me before the doors had time to swing shut. His grace wasn’t feline like the shifters I’d grown up around, but it was definitely predatory. And it was all male.

He ran a finger down the side of my cheek then pressed his lips, feather-light, across my forehead.

My heart lurched like it could propel me to step closer to him, to move into his embrace. Instead I scooted away.

“When did you get back?” I asked, hoping he hadn’t been home long enough to note my absence. I doubted I was that lucky. Very little got past Nathanial. Besides, the pile of books on the table was impressive.

He frowned, and I squirmed under his measured gaze until I finally looked down to escape it. My palms were gray with dust from the sarcophagus, and flakes of red rust clung to my fingers like spots of dried blood. I brushed my hands on my thighs. It didn’t help, and I scrubbed harder. Nathanial stepped forward. His hands slid around mine, stilling me.

“Where were you, Kita?”

I shrugged without looking up. “With Gil.”

It wasn’t an answer. Not really. But, after a beat, he stepped back as if he’d accepted more than I said. “The council wants to speak to you.”

He’d changed the subject? Seriously? He never let me get away with half-answers this easily. Of course, it wasn’t every day I discovered a body and got summoned by Haven’s vampiric council.

I nodded and tugged my hands free. Without a word, he ushered me out the door and onto the porch, but when he turned, the frown melted off his face, leaving in its place a look of nonchalant arrogance. His expression, as empty of true emotion as if he’d put the opera mask back on, spoke volumes about the emotions he wasn’t sharing.

At least, it did to me.

It was his public face, the one he hid behind. The fact he was wearing it while it was just the two of us made my anxiety level skyrocket. “What?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’re starting to creep me out, Nathanial.”

He blinked, as if startled. Did he think I wouldn’t notice he’d shut down and was being all secretive?

“I am going to say something you will not appreciate,” he said, his tone as guarded as his face.

Like I hadn’t figured that out. I tapped my fingers against the gray elbows of my coat, waiting.

“Tatius will not approve of your current condition. He instructed you to feed. You need blood before we go.”

My hands clenched, my fingers digging into my arms until the pain became small red points I could focus on. I wanted to stomp my feet, to yell. I’d hunted not once, but twice tonight. Can’t he be satisfied with—I cut that thought off.

Sucking in air, I filled my lungs with the scent of night, of the nearby woods, of the spicy scent of Nathanial’s skin. I kept drawing in air until my lungs pressed against my ribs and expanded in my diaphragm. Then I let all the air rush out of me, emptying my body of every drop, every scent, every breath. If I yelled, Nathanial would wait me out. If I ran, he would come after me. If I hit something, it would break. So I stood there, perfectly still, perfectly empty.

The mask slipped from Nathanial’s expression as his eyes warmed. One edge of his lips quirked like I’d amused him.

What, had he expected me to have an outburst? Probably.

But I wasn’t going to. Not this time.

“I’ve hunted. I’m fine.”

Nathanial stepped closer and moved into my space, filled it. He wasn’t a big man, but his presence, maybe even his power, closed around me. His fingers traced the edge of my face as he studied me, and my pulse quickened. It was like his touch pulled a girlish giddiness from deep inside to the surface, made me want to smile against my will. Focus, Kita.

“I’m fine. I’m not even cold.” Not much, at least, but I didn’t add that.

“You look drawn, tired.”

Gee, isn’t that what every girl wants to hear? I backed away from him, though it felt like losing a part of myself to pull away from his touch. “Let’s just go.”

“You need blood. Blood that is not from an animal. Take from me.” He lifted his wrist, but I grabbed it before he could open a vein.

“No.” Taking blood was too weird, too intimate. And he was already too… everything. Just the idea made heat lift to my cheeks. I shook my head. “No.”

“I have been patient these last two weeks. I have let you try to survive on animals. I have never forced you—”

“So don’t start now.”

We were standing close enough that I had to tip my head back to meet his eyes, but I didn’t dare look away as he studied me. The silence built between us, growing sharp.

Then he shook his head, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest.

“If attitude alone determined power…” He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and smiled. “Or denial.”

“I’m not in denial,” I huffed under my breath, which only made the edge of Nathanial’s lips twitch higher.

“Of course.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and drew me closer to him, engulfing me in his scent. “Tatius will want you to recount the events of the night. Please, mind your tongue,” he whispered the last into my hair, the amusement fading from his voice.

Then we were in the air, the little cabin disappearing below us as we hurtled toward the council.

Chapter Five

I dragged my feet through the underground rooms of Death’s Angel. I most certainly wasn’t anxious to reach the council’s chambers. Of course, I could only walk so slowly, especially with Nathanial steering me ever onward as Anaya sauntered down the dark hallway in front of us. She and Clive had been waiting for us when we arrived at the club, gleefully anticipating delivering us to Tatius.

Anaya stopped at a pair of double doors. I expected her to knock. She didn’t. Instead she threw the doors open, the knobs slamming into the inside walls with a resounding boom.

Every undead eye turned toward the doorway. I cringed, inching behind Nathanial.

“The favored child and his companion have arrived,” Anaya announced into the stunned silence enveloping the room.

Then she turned and sauntered back into the hall.

Her name was so going on my shit list.

Tatius shook his head from the center of the room where he sat atop the council table. His gaze raked across me, bearing down as he hesitated. Then his eyes moved on and the weight lifted from my skin, but not the feeling that I’d been worn down just by the brush of his attention.

“Everyone out.” Tatius’s voice was smooth, not even lifted, but the non-council vampires in the room jumped. Then as one, they turned and headed for the door.

“Hermit, thank you for gracing the rest of the council with your presence. You’ll understand that we moved on without you, so show yourself and your companion to the sitting room. I’ll be there when I have time to deal with you,” Tatius said, his attention returning to the vampires around the table.

Nathanial nodded and led me past the large council table before lifting a cloth panel and revealing the doorway to a small, dark room. Plush carpet muffled the sound of my steps as I followed him to a dark leather couch in the center of the room. Paintings instead of fabric lined the finished walls. The only thing missing was electric light. Instead, unlit candelabras were scattered around the room. Anywhere else, the room would have been unremarkable, but its very normalcy made it remarkable compared to what I’d seen of the underground parts of Death’s Angel thus far.

Nathanial sank onto the couch. He crossed an ankle over his knee, and I frowned as he pulled a small book from the inner pocket of his tux jacket. How can he read at a time like this?

“You should take a seat,” he said, glancing up from the book. “We made Tatius wait. He will return the favor.”

I didn’t take his advice. I was too jittery to sit. Instead I paced a circle around the room and fidgeted with a marble from my coat pocket, rolling it through my fingers.

It was hard to mark time in an underground room, but it felt like we’d been waiting for over an hour when Nathanial leaned back, his gray eyes fixing on me. “Kita, sit.”

“Sorry. I’m a cat. Not a dog. I don’t do tricks.”

The edge of his lips twitched in an almost smile, and the small change lit his face, breaking the mask of indifference I was growing accustomed to seeing tonight. The change was small, subtle, but even the air in the room responded, seeming less thick, less dangerous.

Okay, so we were waiting on the head of the vampire council, and yeah, Tatius had considered killing me once, but I hadn’t done anything wrong this time. I’d found a body.

Hell, he’d been in the same room when I’d discovered it. He couldn’t have that many questions. I’d tell him what I knew and we’d leave. Simple as that.

I sank onto the couch beside Nathanial, and his hand slipped around mine, entwining my fingers with his. The warmth of his palm pressed into mine, spiraling up my arm to gather in a burn across my cheeks. Or, at least, I hoped it was just his warmth that made my cheeks hot.