Page 54 of Illusory

“Now, if you’ll all excuse us, I think she’s answered enough questions for the night,” he said and then sauntered across the kitchen toward me, his dark eyes as hard as granite when he came to a stop before me and held out his hand. “Let’s get you all fixed up and better, shall we?”

As if he even had to ask.

17. THE TAINTED TRUTH

Dominic didn’t say another word to me after he picked me up into his arms and whisked me out of the kitchen, carrying me up the winding staircase and down the long corridor until we reached the privacy of my bedroom. It was exactly what I had been dreaming about for weeks, but I knew the second my feet left the ground that this wasn’t a romantic gesture. I could tell by the way the muscle in his jaw was working overtime and by the way he refused to meet my eyes the whole way there.

But I let him carry me anyway, needing the lie and the momentary safety of his arms. And the pressure taken off my mangled ankle.

Every part of my body was aware of him as he walked us into my bedroom and then set me down at the foot of my bed before circling back to the door. For a moment, my heart dropped into my stomach and fissured, thinking that he was going to leave me there without saying another word to me. And then he closed the bedroom door and locked it, his back still turned to me as he continued staring straight ahead at the door.

I couldn’t even begin to venture a guess as to what was cycling through his mind then.

Was he contemplating ripping the door off its hinges and running for the hills? Was he deciding whether he should stay here with me or not? Was he deciding if he evenwantedto?

I hated not knowing how he felt. I hated that there was a space between us that I didn’t know how to fill anymore. Really, I hated all of this.

“Dominic?” The timbre of his name on my tongue sounded far more needy than I had intended it to, especiallysince technically, I was supposed to still be mad at him. I could barely remember why, though. “Are you going to come all the way in or are you just planning on staying by the door for the rest of the night?”

He appeared to be thinking about it. “I suppose that depends,” he finally answered, and then turned around to face me, his expression a perfect mask of indifference.

I really hated that mask, too.

I swallowed against the lump that had suddenly formed at the back of my throat. “On what?”

“On whether you plan on telling me the truth about what happened tonight.” His voice was calm and even, guarded from any emotion behind it. He quirked his brow at me inquisitively. “Or do you plan on holding fast to the lie you told everyone downstairs?”

The lump that had been in my throat thickened like coal and then dropped down into my stomach. “What lie? I didn’t—”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, stopping me dead in my tracks. “Last chance, angel.”

I stared back at him like a brainless mannequin with my lips still parted on the lie I hadn’t finished telling. I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting when he carried me up to my bedroom, but I could say with absolute certainty that it definitely wasn’tthis.

“I already know you didn’t vanquish those Hellhounds,” he stated matter-of-factly, his cunning eyes still boring holes into the depths of my soul. “What I don’t know is how you managed to make it out of there alive.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Do you even need to ask?” he retorted.

Apparently I did since the only reason I could think of was if he had first-hand information—if he were somehowinvolved in it. But he couldn’t have been involved in it.

…Could he?

I narrowed my eyes at him as a needle of suspicion pricked the back of my neck. “What exactly do you know about what happened? What aren’t you telling me?” I asked and then shoved off the bed. I’d meant to close the distance, but my legs were too shaky to take another step, though I wasn’t sure if it was because of my injuries or because I was afraid of hearing his answer. “I swear to god, Dominic, if you—”

“If Iwhat?” he cut in icily and then prowled toward me with the grace of a panther, each step exuding power and absolute control. “If I had something to do with it?” he asked tersely, his eyes as dark as flint.

I resisted the urge to cower away from himandthe question which now seemed wildly inappropriate. “You just…you seem to know more than you’re saying.”

He huffed derisively, like a part of him expected the accusation. If he was hurt by it, though, he wasn’t showing it. “I always know more than I say,” he informed haughtily as he stopped in front of me and peered down at me under hooded eyes, making me feel as though he could disassemble my entire world with just a shift of those knowing eyes. “But you’ll be happy to know, despite your unfavorable opinion of me, that I know nothing of what went on at the witch’s house other than the fictional account you told everyone downstairs.”

Relief washed over me and suddenly, I felt horrible for even thinking it let alone saying it out loud. I should have known better than that—I should have known him better—but after what happened with his sire and the stark change in his demeanor toward me lately, I just couldn’t be sure of anything anymore. Until things went back to normal, nothing was out of the realm of possibilities or fully off the table.

“What Idoknow, however,” he said as he tilted forwardand dropped his voice, “is Hellhounds.”

My breath stalled in my chest as I gazed up at him, petrified of what was going to come out of his mouth next. Something told me it wasn’t going to bode very well for my story.

He smiled but it wasn’t a nice thing. “I know that once a Hellhound is summoned for a kill, it doesn’t stop until payment is delivered in flesh and blood. That even on theveryoff chance that one is taken out, another one will quickly replace it before you’d have time to wipe your blade clean. What Iknow, angel, is that you, in no uncertain terms, are lying. Because being marked by a Hellhound is in and of itselfcertain death.”

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