She’s slipping just as I wrench the vampire free, and I grip her shoulder to balance her.
“Margot!” My voice echoes, and Gwyn is already moving down the stairs, unable to disobey my earlier command. “Sit down,” I growl, and she does, her body crashing to the steps. The fledgeling struggles in my arms, and I shove her at Margot the second she arrives. “Put the baby back. Now.”
“The baby?” Gwyn pants, rubbing her neck.
“Fledgeling. New vamp. Must’ve smelled your blood.” I shrug and continue down the stairs behind Margot and the struggling vampire, wondering how long it will take Gwyn to follow.
I’m only one flight down when I hear her move, clearly aware I’m all that stands between her and the rest of them.
13
GYWN
Roman is standingat the end of my bed, absolutely silent, when I open my eyes. I sit up, scrambling backward, a screech tickling its way up my throat and out my mouth. He’s dressed in a casual suit, no jacket, and his hands are in his pockets. With his shirtsleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, displaying the dark ink swirling over his skin, he is the picture of intimidation. He raises a brow, his lips twitching as he stares at me in silence. I don’t know what to do, curled up at the head of the bed. The thin sheet did little in the way to protect me from the cold last night, and it does even less now against Roman.
I watch the rise and fall of his chest, instinctively matching my breathing with his to calm myself. It’s something I’ve done for as long as I can remember, and now is no exception. My jaw is aching, clenched teeth in my sleep causing pain to radiate down my neck and up the back of my skull. After a moment, I can breathe again, even if his dark eyes on mine feel suffocating.
“What do you want?” I ask, and he huffs a laugh. I should be frightened of my kidnapper, but all I feel is incandescent rage. “Is this funny to you?”
“Get dressed,” he commands, pointing to a stack of clothing on the foot of the bed he must have put there. He turns around, affording me a small amount of privacy, and I pull my shirt off.
“I’m not allowed to shower first?”
“You showered last night.”
“Oh, of course you watched that, you fucking pervert.” He’s silent, ignoring my protestation as I continue dressing. “I took the fastest shower of my life. I probably still smell bad from being shut in a trunk in my own piss.”
He stretches his neck, tilting his head slowly to the right, then slowly to the left. Adjusting his shoulders, shirt stretching over his broad back, he takes a deep breath. “You don’t smell bad. Besides, would you prefer someone else’s piss? Wouldn’t have guessed you were into that.”
I ignore him, moving onto my knees and pulling down my pants before reaching for the underwear and jeans he brought. They’re exactly my size, and the jeans are my favorite brand. I shake my head, a laugh of disbelief crossing my lips. I suppose if one is going to be kidnapped, it pays for it to be someone who stalked you.
“Are you rich or something?” I ask.
“Why do you ask?” He turns his head, and I stare at his profile. He has tidied up his beard since last night, and his wavy hair looks perfectly tousled. I hate him for being so pretty.
“Something tells me Viking Vampire Daddy doesn’t care enough to buy me my favorite jeans.”
His posture stiffens. “I didn’t buy them because they’re your favorite. I bought them because I knew they’d fit you.”
“Still. They’re not cheap.” Jeans that fit my ass without creating a weird gap at my waist are scarce. He could have picked any jeans in this size, but he picked the brand that costs over a hundred dollars each.
“I’m not hurting for money,” he says, turning around when he hears the pants zip.
“I imagine stalking can be quite lucrative. How many others have you stalked and stolen from?”
Roman grins, stepping around the side of the bed to sit at the end of it. I’m still near the headboard, doing my best to take up as little space as possible. It’s a twin and possibly the least comfortable thing I’ve ever slept on. Although I guess my trunk was worse.
“You’re my first, sweetheart.”
I tuck my legs up, wrapping my arms around them as I stare at the man sitting before me. He could kill me in an instant. He could probably reach into my chest and pull out my still-beating heart before I could even blink. But I can’t help but think about the missing pickle from my burger and the exact right pair of jeans. He hasn’t physically injured me other than biting me at the swamp, and he left me alone after throwing me into my cell last night. He has a moral code, and I have to figure out how to exploit it. I have to endear him to me.
“Tell me about Remy.”
He balks, physically jolting away from me. “Who told you his name? Don’t you say his fucking name.”
I gasp, readjusting as I look around the small room, trying to find an escape, even though I know I won’t find one. It’s smaller than my childhood bedroom and the only furniture in it is this bed. There’s a bathroom connected, but he could break that door down in an instant. There is nowhere to go.
“I—I heard you and Margot talking last night. In the elevator.” His eyes narrow, a predator gaze moving down to my hands. I’m picking at my nails, and I can’t stop myself from fidgeting.