“You don’t need your mother,” I say. “You’re brave. And it was just a nightmare.”
“A nightmare…” she repeats. Her eyes start to flutter closed.
“Sleep now. The rest of your dreams will be peaceful and serene.”
Nodding slightly, the girl lies back into the grass and drifts off.
The sound of approaching footsteps forces me to look up. Vittoria is stomping our way, the second girl tossed over her shoulder, also lost in deep sleep. On Vittoria’s face is pure irritation and anger.
“I never agreed to babysit,” she says, her gaze flicking to Elliot who’s still pinned belly-down in the dirt.
Elliot’s baby-blue eyes burn into me, her lip curled in a silent snarl.
“This could have ended far worse than it did,” I say. “There were kids?—”
Vittoria’s jaw tightens. “An oversight. One that won’t happen again.”
“It had better not.” I roll the tension from my shoulders. “How many dead?”
“Inside?” She hesitates. “Two.”
“Did the woman survive?”
“She’s been mesmerized.”
“Good.”
Vittoria’s eyes cut to Olivia, then back to me. The pieces slide into place. “Lucian.”
She wants to reprimand me for caring but restrains herself.
“Put them back in the treehouse,” I say. “Help Andrew with the clean-up. I’ll meet you back at VMR.”
She wants to push back more, but her lips press into a thin line. She picks up Olivia easily and tosses her over her other shoulder before walking off.
Then I turn back to Elliot.
The blonde picks herself up from the ground, her eyes blazing with unholy fire as they fasten on me and she wipes the dirt from her cheek.
“Fuck you, Lucian. You did this to me. You turned me into a monster.”
She stomps off, past the treehouse, into the full coverage of the wooded backyard. I debate whether or not to follow her, but since she’s such a wild card still, I groan and march after her.
“Get away from me, Lucy,” she bites out, speeding up. “Leave me alone.”
“Never.” I catch up to her easily and seize her by the back of the neck. She squeals.
“Lucian!”
De Santis’s estate is barely visible through the tree line, and being alone with her, in the darkness, has lust spinning high. This is regular lust. Nothing to do with blood. Everything to do with sex.
I shove her forward, pressing the front of her body into the rough bark of a tree.
“I almost bit achild,” she grunts from the force of it. “I could’ve killed her.”
“But you didn’t,” I say and step closer.
“Only because you stopped me.”
