My body senses the sun approaching the horizon, even though I cannot see it. Soon, I will fall into the dreamless sleep of the Upyr, the sleep of death. I’m not afraid of Gideon seeing me in my most vulnerable state. I almost relish this knife edge I walk with him. I wonder if I could become addicted to the intoxication of trust, as I’ve seen so many others fall under the spell of opium.
Weariness clasps my limbs. I settle into his body, his cock still wet and warm inside me. He kisses my ears, his fingers trailing over my naked throat, whispering words I barely hear, as I slip into sleep…
25
Gideon
Sinead:I’ve just been informed of a little blip in the security system, but it seems to have righted itself. Carlton thinks it’s probably due to the stream being diverted over some of the network cables.
IMOVE AWAY FROM THE PARTY, my head hung in shame.
What was I thinking? I never should have put that sculpture on display.
I thought I knew Arabella. She used to love pomp and pageantry. She belongs on a stage, baring her soul when she dances, not buttoned up in her designer suits, moving money around for rich, pompous vampires who are utterly beneath her. (I include myself in that list.)
I thought the sculpture would say that.
But maybe I don’t know her at all.
She offered to save Sanctus.
I realise I’m not alone. Members of the Nevermore Coven surround me.
Winnie pats my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Gideon. I thought she’d love the statue. But I didn’t realise just howabysmalit was.”
“Thanks, Winnie. That makes me feel so much better,” I mutter.
Alaric pats me on the shoulder. “It certainly made a statement.”
“What kind of statement?”
“That you are blind to her beauty and filled with rage.”
“So it’s not aliteralcopy of her figure,” I snap. “Art doesn’t always have to look like stuff, right? That’s what the impressionists were always saying. Maybe it’s a metaphor?”
“It is a metaphor,” Maisie adds. “It’s a metaphor for ‘the person who inspired this statue is someone I hate’.”
“Are you going to talk to her now?” Isis asks.
“I don’t know if I should.” Arabella’s words bounce off the inside of my skull. “I don’t think she wants to talk to me ever again.”
Which means not only have I lost my chance with Arabella, but I’ve lost Sanctus, too.
Celeste comes running up to the group, her bright hair whipping around her face. “Someone defaced Arabella’s house.”
“What?”
“I walked her home, and she was fuming about the sculpture…” Celeste flashes me a sympathetic look. “But then we saw someone pinned a beheaded bird to her door and wrote ‘MINE’ underneath. It looks like it’s written inblood.”
My heart hammers against my ribs.
“But that’s impossible. Sanctus security would never allow that to happen…” I reach for my phone but realise that it’s in the stream. “Is Arabella okay?”
“She’s grumpy, so I fear for the life of the perpetrator when she gets her claws into him.”
“She shouldn’t have to dirty her claws. I’ll take great pleasure in gutting this bastard myself.”
It can’t be Lucien. He’s long gone. I made certain of that.
