Harrison smiles, making my stomach gurgle more. “Are you going to let him speak to me that way, Violet?”
Cyrus steps in front of me. “You have no claim to Violet. Leave before I make you leave.”
My maker’s laugh echoes off the brick walls of the cemetery. “I believe you are confused, Knight.” He lifts his head into the air, making a production out of smelling his surroundings. “Smell that?” he asks. “That’s my blood running through her body. That is my claim to Violet.”
“The exchange of money between the two of us overpowered any blood she might carry. She belongs to me, now.”
I step around my buyer, moving between Harrison and Cyrus. “Are you two serious?” I look between the two of them. “My name is Violet Ann Du Four. I don’t belong to either of you pompous jerks.” Both vampires look at me with a mixture of amusement and confusion covering their faces. “Last time I checked,” I hold up my ring finger for both to see, “I am not married to either one of you. In my world, that means I can do whatever the hell I want.” I turn, moving toward the entrance. “Right now, what I want is to get away from both of you.”
I exit the cemetery, moving at vampire speed until I’m standing in front of the familiar home and garden entrance. Storming inside, I find Simon wearing a loincloth and stretching his body in ways I’ve never seen.
He stands, looking around me. “Where’s Cyrus?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care.” I stomp into thehouse. “Tell them to leave me alone,” I shout before slamming the door behind me.
It doesn’t take long before I feel the energies of both vampires. I didn’t doubt Cyrus would follow me, but Harrison? To their credit, both men stay downstairs. I hear bits and pieces of their conversation, but strangely, my vampire ears don’t pick up much. Mostly, they’ve spoken about vampire politics, the weather of all things, and the cities of New Orleans and St. Augustine. Simon said to assume everything is a test, which means, no doubt, I’m right in the middle of one.
“Violet,”my name rings through my mind. Did I imagine that?“Come downstairs.”
What the hell was that? Have I officially lost my mind?
“I know you can hear me.”I hear again.
“No, I can’t,”I answer. A deep laugh follows my words.
“If you can’t hear me, then how did you know to answer?”
“Harrison? Am I insane?”
My maker laughs once more.“Although that’s quite possible, hearing my voice in your head is not the reason. We share blood, and I am your maker. That makes it possible for us to communicate through our minds.”
“Not if I ignore you,”I retort.
“Come downstairs,”he repeats.
“Hell, no,” I answer out loud. A deep sigh echoes.Seconds later, my door is slammed open, and Harrison Chamberlin is standing in the doorframe.
“I believe I asked you to come downstairs,” he demands.
I stand, moving toward my maker. Something inside is pulling me to him, but the stubborn human that still clings to life refuses. Standing in front of the vampire, I barely come to his chin. “No,” I answer, not sure where the strength is coming from.
A heartbeat later, my back is slammed into the large wardrobe, knocking the doors off their hinges. Long fingers are wrapped around my throat, and the face of my maker has shifted from the handsome stranger who charmed my friends and me to that of the monster who took my humanity. “Perhaps this will help change your mind,” he spews, spitting in my face with his words. “I asked…” Harrison’s words are cut short as the grip he held on me is gone, and his body is slammed into the marble fireplace, cracking every tile that surrounds it. Standing in front of my maker is Cyrus. His dark hair is disheveled, and his clothes are wrinkled, making him appear more human than I’ve seen before.
“Don’t confuse my hospitality with acceptance,” he says, sending chill bumps down my spine. “Violet does not belong to you any longer. Therefore, you will not touch her again.”
Harrison stands, straightening the antiquated waistcoat he’s wearing. “I made her, Knight. That makes her mine.”
“I will never be yours,” I spew. “Is that why you’re here? To drag me back into your hell?”
My maker takes a minute before responding. “No. I’m here to warn you…both of you.”
“Warn me?” I step closer. “Warn me about what? That you’re going to try to kill me…again?”
“There are far worse things than me, Violet,” he answers, turning toward Cyrus. “Callum is coming.”
Cyrus’s energy shifts in an instant. “When?” he asks.
“It could be today, tomorrow, next month, or he could already be here.”
