Page 61 of Vampire so Virtuous
It was amazing she hadn’t had more nightmares.
But then Antoine had shown up, and she’d immediately known they’d met before. She’d felt it in the pit of her stomach, a visceral reaction, like a gut punch, her body instinctively recognizing him.
Antoine. Anthony Du Pont.One and the same?
Antoine was a vampire, so what was Anthony? Who could walk into a police station—dressed with a retro dystopian vibe, no less—and get all the charges dropped on a triple homicide, where the suspect looked as guilty as a puppy sitting next to a chewed remote?
She went to put the kettle on, leaning against the counter while she waited.
Antoine had protected her from Minh, that much was clear. Or had hewanted to intercede for his own reasons? Hell, she couldn’t discount that they were working together.
No, she could. The animosity had been real.
Sinking his teeth into the other vampire, the ruthlessness with which he’d acted—it all happened so fast. Red eyes locked onto hers as he drank deeply. The memory made her shiver.
And afterward, the way he’d taken her hand, bowed above it, and called her ‘machérie.’ She didn’t speak French, but she still knew what that meant.
It had been… gallant. And not in a forced way, but with sincerity that felt genuine.
Strangely comforting.
His gorgeous pale blue eyes capturing hers as he brushed his lips across her hand.
She pressed her palms flat against the cool counter top.
Goddammit, Cally, are you falling for the stereotypical dark, brooding psycho?
She couldn’t deny there was a sensation in the pit of her stomach. No, it was lower than that. Shewantedit to be in her stomach. Perhaps nausea, or revulsion. But, in truth, he didn’t make her sick.
Which was a shame. It would make everything a lot easier.
She felt another jolt, stronger this time, and it seemed to pull at her whole body.
Yes, yes, I get it, I get it. Memories of my mysterious vampire are for some insane reason turning me on. Can we pay attention now?
She frowned. Hewasmysterious, alluring—that much she could not deny— but the more she dwelled on the sensation, the more wrong it felt. This wasn’t just attraction, it was the same feeling from the police station. Something unnatural, something… more than justfrom her. Had he done something to her?
And it was getting stronger, like it was physically pulling at her.
She focused on the feeling, trying to identify it, and it was like… well, it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Like a compass needle, drawn inexorably to magnetic north. As if she were tethered by a single strand of spider’s web, tugging relentlessly at her soul. An unseen force, demanding she follow.
What had he done to her?
She concentrated on pouring boiling water into the mug, stirring the coffee and adding milk. Small, deliberate actions that required no thought, and she poured all her attention into them.
Think of something else, anything else.
She closed her eyes, flicking through thoughts and memories, concentrating hard. Combinations of taekwondo kicks; Joon staggering back when she caught him too hard. The guilt of not seeing her dad often enough. The balance of her bank account. The taste of the coffee, bitter and dark. That girl in elementary school who always used to pull her hair when they passed in the corridor—what was her name? Susan? No, Sarah. What a bitch. Eve had tipped her lunch tray over her head one day. The memory was still funny.
She opened her eyes. The sensation had faded; there was no tug anymore. That was a relief. But as soon as she thought about it, it began to return. A growing tingle—still there—if not as enthusiastically as before.
Fuck.
“She’s already marked. See for yourself.”
But if that was true, why hadn’t she felt this before?
Unless he’d been lying.
