Page 53 of Midnight Queen

When I picked up on her apprehension in the elevator, I was worried that she wasn’t ready. The only way I was going to allow her to walk into the vampire-ridden bar was if I couldn’t sense a single drop of fear on her. It didn’t take much for her to collect herself. The doubt melted from her eyes and her fearless mask slipped firmly into place.

Not once did it falter. She met each of the spiteful looks that were sent in her direction with an unwavering confidence that can only be accomplished by someone as strong as Quincey. She stood with her head held high and her shoulders back at my side. Even when I stepped away and she was momentarily on her own, she didn’t flinch.

Up here, away from the prying eyes of the public, her defensive walls drop. She becomes the carefree girl that enjoys reading in the garden.

I’m truly amazed how fast she learned how to switch it on and off. It’s a skill that took me longer than it should have to develop, but it’s one that comes naturally to her.

“As we discussed on the elevator ride up, I wanted to take you somewhere public where you could be seen, but I’m still a selfish man.” At my words, she stops her slow spinning and smiles at me over her shoulder. “I can only share you for so long before I need you all to myself once more.”

There isn’t a state that I don’t find Quincey attractive. The shorts she wears used to grate on my nerves when she first arrived at my house, but now I love how they hug her ass and expose her legs. I thought her casual style would always suit her best but looking at how the silk of her outfit clings to each subtle curve of her body, I know I was wrong.

It’s not solely the way the dress fits her body that makes me believe she was always meant to wear clothes like this, it’s the confidence she’s exuded since she emerged from the newly stocked closet. These clothes make her feel good about herself, and for that, I’m a fan of them.

I would stock two more closets if I thought she’d allow me. She hides it well, but underneath the bubbling confidence is an air of guilt.

The man I was a few hundred years ago relates to her humble upbringings. He knows that Quincey is not yet accustomed to a life of luxury, but the man I am today wants to use every resource he’s acquired to shower her in all the things she’s never had before.

The corners of her mouth twitch like she’s fighting a laugh.

“Is there something you find amusing, Quincey?” I stalk slowly toward her.

Her white teeth dig into her bottom lip. “You just reminded me of something Lor said once. It had something to do with your ability to share. Or more so, yourinabilityto share.”

It hasn't gone unnoticed that Quincey and Lorcan have become easy friends. It’s something I’m not completely surprised by, seeing as I’m convinced Quincey could make friends with a feral raccoon if enough time was allotted. A feral animal would at least have the decency to not imagine her naked as it mauled her to death. Meanwhile, I can almost guarantee that thoughts of touching what’s mine have danced through Lorcan’s head. He wouldn’t have the strength to stop himself.

“He’s right. I don’t share,” I agree without a second thought. “And he’s entirely mistaken if he thought I would ever share you.”Maybe it would do him good to be reminded of that soon.

Quincey’s blue eyes still twinkle with humor. “Are you going to pee a circle around me now, Silas?” Her finger swirls in a circular motion. “I want it noted for the record that doing that would be completely unnecessary, but we both know when you’ve decided something, it’s almost impossible to change your mind. You’re both selfishandstubborn like that.”

Since the beginning, Quincey has teased and taunted me like no one else ever has. Even Duke and Lorcan recognize there is a line they shouldn’t cross, but Quincey skips over that line with a devious grin on her face.

“I don’t see any falsehood in that statement,” I tell her while she picks the wineglass up from the table that only has one place setting. “I fight hard for the things that I want and once I have them in my grasp, why would I ever allow anyone else to touch them?”

“I never said those qualities were negative.” Her lips that have been coated in a rose-colored lipstick curl at the corner as she takes a sip from the glass. “No one has ever wanted me enough to fight for me the way that you have, Silas. If that makes you selfish, then I’m all for it.”

I close the distance between us and trail my fingers down her face. “I will always fight for you, Quincey. Even when you think you’re strong enough to face your own battles. I will still fight for you because you would do the same for me.”

“Of course I would.” Even in her heels, she’s still too short and has to rise up on her toes to press a soft kiss to my mouth. Just as I’m tasting the lingering sweet white wine on her lips, soft violin music begins to play.

Quincey grins against my lips and pulls away from me, her curious blue eyes searching the rooftop for the source. “Where is that coming from?”

My enhanced ears follow the sound. “Down on the street below us.”

It’s a single violin and it plays a beautifully haunting melody that fills the night air. It drowns out the boisterous sounds of the city and muffles the nosiness of traffic.

Quincey dashes toward the brick ledge so she can see. Even though the wall that encircles the roofline reaches her ribs, a trail of concern shoots down my spine at the sight of her being so close to the edge. Watching her fall three stories before has made me wary of heights where Quincey is concerned.

But when she looks over her shoulder at me and her eyes are full of joy, I force myself to relax and join her. Standing behind her, I cage her with my arms.

“Was this your doing? Did you set this up?” she asks, her eyes locked on where the man stands on the street corner. The streets are quiet due to the late hour, but those who remain on the streets stop and watch him for a moment before carrying on their way.

“While I wish I could take credit for this, I’m afraid this is just pure coincidence.” While she watches, I brush her long gold strands off one shoulder, exposing her delicate neck.

Her pulse jumps steadily under her skin, making my fangs burn as they threaten to make an appearance. Unable to stop myself, I press a kiss over the point and enjoy the way her breath hitches in her throat at the contact.

Quincey has become my biggest lesson in maintaining control. Her blood is so sweet and its content calls to me, it is hard to ignore. It goes against everything in my monstrous nature to not sink my fangs into her. It’s even more difficult to refrain from doing that when she willingly offers her vein to me.

“One day,” she promises in a breathy whisper, just like she did the night prior.

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