Funny how I went from not sticking my neck out to throwing myself in front of him as aliteralhuman shield in under twenty-four hours.
Cairo sets the things he carried for me just inside my apartment door without stepping inside. “Alpha’s taking a big risk by not throwing you and him out of here, Connie. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
So do I.
There’s barely constrained anger, and resentment, and maybe even a tinge of grief in his energy as he walks away.
A missed opportunity there, I’m certain. I’d had paid errands to run that afternoon for Theophilus, and always meant to take Cairo up on his rain check, but never got around to it.
I hope I didn’t screw up.
As I step inside and close and lock my apartment door, I take a deep breath.
Please let my chosen path be the right one.
* * *
I quickly unpack everything—groceriesand blood into the fridge, his shower kit on my bathroom counter, and I hang his garment bag on my shower curtain rod, because, well,duh.
I’d left my bed open earlier, so I set his other things on that. Digging out the painter’s tape, I quickly run a strip of it around the door seam and hope this isn’t too little too late.
Pleasedon’t let it be too little too late.
There are still several hours between now and dark. I’m not even sure what’s “safe” dark for him. I mean, does it have to be twilight? Is dusk okay? Is there some sort of light meter for safe levels?
Is there a freakingappfor that?
Comeon, there has to be some bored, rich vamp app dev somewhere who knowsallthe programming languages—because ofcoursethey would—who could develop something like that.
Right?
I grab my phone and send Dexter a text, deleting and typing probably a dozen or more times before I finally settle on something I hope isn’t totally inane.
I’m back.I’ll keep my phone close.
As the hours tick by,I fight the urge to pace. Every noise out in the hall makes me jump, and I double and triple and quadruple check my deadbolt and lock and chain, staring through the fish-eye viewfinder in the door to make sure there’s not an angry horde outside my door.
I drag the comfy chair in front of the door.
Again, Iknowit won’t stop a shifter, but it makes me feel a little better.
During this wait, my mind fucks with me, too. It tells me what a fucking dumbass I am to put my neck on the line for a vampire I’ve only known a short amount of time.
Tries to convince me that vampires are masters of manipulation. Sure, he can’t pull me into his thrall with his powers, but maybe he’s still trying to control me in more mundane ways.
I wouldn’t be the first woman to fall for a sob story spun by a hunky guy, or mistake really great sex for something more than that. He’s lived alongfreaking time. Plenty of time to learn exactly what to say, to hone the sob story, to refine the details for maximum effect with minimum effort. Maybe he’s a sociopath, or a psychopath, or an emotional sadist.
Even trying to convince myself Lucius vouching for him is a good thing leads me down darker paths.
I’ve witnessed firsthand what Lucius and other vampires can do to others, not to mention each other. As long as his human staff don’t betray him—meaning try to kill him or get him killed—Lucius honestly treats them like anyone else would. I’m trulynotafraid of him, because he could have killed me at any time and hasn’t. I’m more valuable to him alive than dead. Most of the vampires who know me are wary of me. Because besides my protection from Lucius and Selene, while they could easily kill me, they know that unless they sneak up on me, I’ll probably put a hurting on them in the process, and that juice just ain’t worth the squeeze.
Literally.
Eh, juice meaning blood, obvs.
Yeah, being honest with myself, it’s another reason if I’m not at work at night I like to be home, in my apartment.
Where vampires can’t get in unless I invite them, and sonofabitch, looky what I freaking did?
