Page 33 of Trapped for Her Blood
“Ember,” he says, “if I am correct, for centuries, I have been searching for you.”
“For me?” I lean back. “For centuries? I’m twenty-five.”
“Yes.” He smiles as if I unlocked some riddle. “But if I am correct, you aredescendedfrom something very ancient indeed.”
“Some—thing?”
He nods. “There are different accounts in history of beings whose blood allows vampires to walk in the light, but the most credible of those accounts is the myth of the Illuminant.”
The air rushes out of my chest. Gullveig the Illuminant is what I saw carved into the farmhouse door the day my mother was taken. I haven’t eventhoughtof those words in a long time.
“What?” he asks. “What are you thinking? Tell me.” His eyes are so full of interest and excitement as he looks into mine.
Shaking my head, I look to the side. “It’s just that…this is all…overwhelming.” As much as I want to trust him, I don’t want Zuben to know that I recognize that name—not yet—not until I understand what’s going on.
“I don’t get it.” I turn back toward him. “How did your research, your interest in my blood—how did it lead to Ryker’s capture, and mine?”
Zuben swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing like he swallowed a golf ball, and guilt spreads across his face.
“An error in my judgment. Rykerisa thief, and he deserves punishment for his crimes, but piracy is not the reason I wanted him arrested.”
“Then why?”
“You.” He looks into my eyes. “I wanted to get him away from you before he discovered what…what Isuspectyour blood can do. He is a scoundrel. And I knew that, if Ryker discovered that he could use you to walk in the light, he would take you away, hide you, use you forever for your blood.”
I pull in a ragged breath. Zuben definitely knows that Ryker could take sunlight after drinking my blood. But much worse than that realization, he’s right. Rykerwastaking me to Montréal to hide me. Was that only so he could lock me away anduseme?
And Zuben is a vampire too. He could use me the same way.
“Is…” I fight for the words as my heart sinks under the burden of my thoughts. “Is my blood the only reason you want to protect me?”
He blinks, clearly startled by my question.
“I cannot deny that your blood is my driving motivation for wanting to protect you.”
I crumple inside. It’s not like I’m in love with Zuben or anything, but this is the second time in less than a week that I’ve mistaken a man’s interest in me, and I feel like such a fool.
Bending, he rests his forehead against mine and takes a few long breaths before straightening to look into my eyes, and he looks like he’s in pain.
“That’s okay,” I tell him, blood rushing in my ears so loudly my voice sounds strange. “I understand. It’s okay.”
“Your blood is why I cannot let DEFTA know you are down here. Why it is difficult to explain your presence without causing you more danger. Why I could not simply request your release.”
I nod. That all makes sense.
“If the CEO knew that her security team had mistaken a human for a vampire, she would wonder why and…it is very possible that she would figure out what you are.”
WhatI am.
A shiver traces through me, and Zuben wraps his arms around me, pulling me toward him as I sit between his legs.
“I should have been honest from the start,” he says against my hair. “I should have outbid Ryker at the auction and then explained everything to you. Instead I used the auction to gather evidence of Ryker’s piracy.” He shakes his head.
Pulling back, he looks deep into my eyes, holding my head in his hands. “I wanted Ryker out of the way, out ofmyway. I thought that with him out of the picture I could…” His voice trails off and he looks down.
“That you could what? Tell me.” My heart is beating hard in my chest and I can’t believe how badly I want him to tell me that he wants me for more than my blood or his research. That he might actuallycareabout me. But that’s silly. That’s just the desperation of an orphaned, loner girl, who just found out that the man who took her virginity ditched her.
And yet…something in his eyes still tells me he cares more than he’s admitted.
