Page 91 of Her Vampire, His Ruin

“I just spoke to Dorian, he⁠—”

“He did it, didn’t he? He murdered those men.”

“Yes…” I whisper, my voice trailing off as everything I’ve learnt begins to truly sink in.

I should be disgusted. I should be calling the police. Instead, I’m trying to wrap my head around the fact Dorian broke into my home whilst I was sleeping, and how that makes me feel. Part of me is enraged. I feel betrayed, at the mercy of a man who has no regard for my boundaries, or my privacy. Yet, there’s a frightening part of me that is thrilled by the fact he wanted to see me so badly he broke into my home in the middle of the night. He was in my bedroom and he could’ve done anything to me. Why is that a turn on? That isn’t who I am. Is it? This man has already messed with my heart, and now he’s messing with my head. Jesus Christ, I need to get a hold of myself.

“Fuck.” She exhales, and I can almost hear her thoughts churning as she formulates a response. “I stand by what I said,” she eventually says. “Those men deserved everything they got.”

“Henrietta…” I begin. “They murdered them⁠—”

“Good.”

“Jesus.”

“I mean it, Edie,” she insists. “The things those bastards have done. The things they could have done to us, to other women and children. I’m glad they’re dead.”

I can’t bring myself to tell her what else Dorian admitted, so instead, I nod my head. “I am too.”

Chapter 21

Dorian

“Edie, let me in,” I shout, my fist hammering at her door as thunder rumbles overhead and rain pours down in relentless sheets. I’m soaked within seconds. Not that I give a fuck. I’d rather be struck by lightning than walk away without speaking to her.

“Go away, Dorian,” I hear her reply.

“Let me in. We need to talk.”

“Talk? Isn’t this you just doing damage control? Were you ever going to tell me what you did?”

“It’s no excuse, but I had urgent matters to deal with⁠—”

“Discarding bodies, you mean?”

“Actually, no. I was caught up with Sybil.”

“Of course you were.”

“Not like that. Sybil was out of line that night at the club, so I made absolutely certain she understood I won’t tolerate that kind of behaviour.”

“And that took weeks, did it?”

“It took longer than necessary,” I concede, choosing my words carefully.

Even after our most recent discussion, Sybil had been defiant, protective of what we’ve built together, but most of all afraid. She warned me, again, of the consequences of pursuing Edie, and I assured her I’m well aware of what’s at stake. In the end she conceded, not because she wanted to, but because she had no choice. Now I just have to figure out how the fuck I’m going to handle this mess.

“I don’t care. Just go away.”

“I’m not going to leave anytime soon, so unless you want me to break down this door, I suggest you let me in.”

“You might be built like a brick shit-house, but even you can’t get past the numerous locks on my front door,” she snaps back.

As much as I’d like to prove her wrong, I’d rather not draw too much attention to myself. Instead, I say, “There’s always your bedroom window.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”