Page 78 of Craving Her Vampire

“Jesus, where did all the bravery go,” Turner sneers. Gone.

“Fuck off. Anyone would pause.” I march forward with determination, relying on my acting skills, plus I stole the car keys. If all else fails, I’m running my ass back to the car.

I follow Turner to the door, and the creak as he opens it sends a shiver down my spine. He steps to the side, motioning with his hand. I peer into the dark interior and pause with my foot lifted. I really don’t want to cross the threshold, but he moves to push on my back, and I hustle inside. He would have felt the metal hanging through my belt.

The slam of the door shutting is ominous, and I force my body not to react.

“This way,” he says.

I reluctantly follow him through the dark. Looking around, I try to get an idea of the layout, but it’s too dark in the entryway and he moves too quickly for my eyes to adjust to my coyote’s. It's so dark that when we enter another room, I have to squint my eyes since the room is lit brightly.

“Holy crap,” I whisper. The room is what I would think a drawing room would be years ago. Antique chairs with red upholstery, thick velvet curtains, and a long, uncomfortable-looking couch fill the room. A large fireplace is lit and has two chairs in front of it.

“Sit,” Turner orders. “He’ll be here soon.”

I don’t push him and sit on one of the chairs. “You said my brother is here.”

“Be patient,” he scolds as he sits on the couch.

“I’ve been patient, asshole.” I glare at him. “I want to see my brother.”

“You are a pain in my ass.”

“I’ve heard that for years; it doesn’t have any effect.” I keep my eyes glued on the doorway for someone or something to walk through. “I’m sick of waiting for men to decide when and what to tell me. What did you do with my brother?”

“Liam was weak.”“What is your idea of weak?” I ask, turning toward him. “Because he didn’t want to follow your path in life?”

“He couldn’t handle anything.” He sits back, crossing his arms. “So I sent him here to get stronger.”

“What did you do to him?” I grip the arms of the chair, my claws ripping the cushion, restraining myself from tearing out his throat.

“I didn’t do anything,” he denies, glancing at my fingers. I see a spark of fear in his expression. “Carter did.”

“Who the fuck is Carter?” I demand.

“I knew you would be fierce.” A voice floats from the darkness. A body steps into the light. He’s wearing a suit. Great, he thinks he’s some kind of elegant thug. “You don’t recognize me,” he states. I study his face, and something seems familiar.

“No.” I don’t remember seeing him, but I can’t ignore the tiny spark of recognition. It would be helpful if I remembered the first seven years of life. He has dark blonde hair and blue eyes. His scent tells me he is a coyote. “How do you know me?”

He sits gracefully across from my chair. “You were quite young, so you may not recall. I am family.”

“You aren’t my family,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

“But I am. I should be offended you don’t remember your favorite uncle,” he says, waiting for my reaction.

“Uncle.” My heart thuds in my ears, but I show none of my trepidation. This man will take advantage of every weakness.“Well, uncle, why did we wait so long for a reunion?” I casually cross my legs, but my claws still grip the arm rests.

He throws back his head, laughing. “Turner, I told you she was special. Your updates didn’t do her justice.”

“Sure,” Turner mutters.

“That’s me. Special. Updates?” I glance at Turner and then back to Carter. “Will you tell me what the fuck is going on, Uncle?” I growl.

“Are you ready to know the truth?” he asks, tilting his head.

“Once again, a man is stalling in telling the truth. Would I fucking be here in this damp castle in the middle of fucking nowhere if I didn’t want answers?” I pry my nails out of the chair, press my palms together, and leave my claws out.

“Of course. It must have been frustrating to be raised by Turner. He isn’t the best choice, but he was the only one at the time.” He smiles sympathetically, and I want to gouge his eyes out.

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