Page 11 of Blood Descendants
“Yes, sir,” Ares answers. And something in my view of him shifts just a bit when I note the respect he gives the doorman. “I’m Ares Hunt. This is my fiancée, Lana.”
“Pleasure,” he says. He’s eying Ares, and I can’t exactly blame him. My new fake fiancé looks like he should be making shady deals in Harlem, not moving into multi-million dollarapartments like it’s no big deal. “Name’s Lazlo, but most just call me Laz. You need anything, just let me know.”
“Thank you, Laz,” Ares says. He offers Lazlo a small, polite smile and slips his hand into mine.
There’s that hurricane again.
“Nice to meet you,” I offer, remembering my manners as Ares turns us to the elevator. It dings before Ares even presses the button, and the three movers step out, giving Ares a nod before they head back out to the truck.
This building is old. Older than most that surround us. But as we take the elevator up eight floors to the top level, it doesn’t shake, doesn’t creak or squeal. It’s as smooth as any brand-new skyscraper. It opens to reveal a hallway with brilliant white walls and glossy white floors.
I follow as Ares pulls a set of keys from his pocket. He stops at a door marked 8A and slips one of the keys off the ring. “Welcome home, Vengeance,” he says as he extends it to me.
That fucking name. It sends a wave of goosebumps washing down my entire body. I’m embarrassed to take the key in case he notices them. I don’t want him seeing the effect he has on me just by calling me a nickname.
My fingers close around the key, and I’m careful to avoid skin contact. If he notices me acting weird, he doesn’t make it obvious. He simply pushes open the door, already unlocked for the movers.
I step inside, and utterly freeze.
There’s no way this is the right place.
I try to hiss Ares’ name to call him back, to tell him he’s accidentally unlocked the wrong apartment. But the words are trapped in my lungs.
And Ares strides in without hesitating.
It’s the most beautiful apartment I could ever imagine.
The floors are a perfect walnut color, and even though I can tell they’re old, they’re gorgeous. White walls climb above me before they meet a ceiling crisscrossed with beautiful beams the same color as the floor. White pillars hold up an arch that separates this space as the entryway. Beyond that, there is a massive living room. Huge windows look out over Central Park.
“Lana?” Ares calls as he looks over his shoulder back at me, his brows furrowing just slightly.
I just blink, taking it all in, my mouth slightly agape.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, taking a step back toward me.
I take a breath, but still, words don’t come for a moment. I take it all in. The immaculate and obviously brand-new furniture. The paintings hanging on the wall. I’m floored by the beauty of it all, and I can barely see any of the space.
“You bought this place?” I ask, my words not wanting to work. “This… this is ours to live in?”
I feel him studying me, but I can’t look away from the most beautiful space I’ve ever seen. “Welcome home,” he simply says again.
Finally, my feet find life again. I take a step inside and then another, followed by another.
“This is…” I say breathlessly as the room opens up. It’s lovely, simply put. Cozy couches and plush armchairs in the most modernly cozy way possible. Heavy drapes frame the truly massive windows, displaying the nearly dark night. And outside, there’s so much green.
Green comes at such a high price in this city. And we have endless amounts before us.
“A housekeeper will be coming in twice a week,” Ares saysas he walks down the hall. He opens a door, looking inside. And I get the feeling that he hasn’t really looked around yet. “A cook will come in twice a week as well. You have any kind of food allergies?”
“No,” I reply automatically before what he actually said sinks in. “Wait. What? A cook?”
Ares nods and wanders farther down the hall. He opens another door. “You like to cook?”
“I don’t even really know how,” I confess without thinking. “But you’re just going to have someone come in here and cook for us? Do you even eat food?”
Ares turns back toward me slightly, an eyebrow raising. “Yes, I eat food, Lana.”
Huh. It never would have crossed my mind that a vampire would still eat normal food. Guess I should have expected that. How would one ever sustain a body like Ares’ on blood alone? That kind of physique takes a serious protein intake.
