Page 91 of Anatomy of the Immortal Species
“Nyavolski said this guy isn’t setting foot in his car,” Helena said from the front seat. “You’ll have to sit next to him. And don’t touch him!”
Amelia glanced back at the mummy. So, this was the grand conclusion to the evening’s chaos: sharing a seat with a mummy, unable to touch it.
Well, she could have been in a far worse situation – like sharing a bed with Ban Ban right now…
33
“Flawless victory!”
Diana bowed while Constantine massaged his bruised backside. She had succeeded in an impressive front flip with her hands on the floor, but instead of landing, she’d wrapped her legs around his neck, squeezing. He was still struggling to inhale.
All right, perhaps he had underestimated her. With that move, the vampire would take down at least one of the tournament’s contenders. And she had much more to show.
It was fascinating to watch her, to provoke her into revealing her full potential, and to offer her advice and guidance on refining her technique. But the more he tried to dissuade Diana from entering the tournament, the more determined she became to join it. Offering advice had been his original Plan B – in case Plan A, convincing her to quit, failed.
Yet, his annoying need to be close to her had led him to the training hall day after day. Instead of talking her out of the tournament, he had strengthened her resolution. If only he’d been able to use his secondary form, Constantine would have shown her the level of opposition she would face in the tournament. But he still couldn’t.
Sometimes, he was surprised by how these sparring sessions affected him. He discovered the time spent with Diana distracted him from his desire to stuff his body and mind with the dirtiest and most vile things. When he was with her, he didn’t think about Mada and his restraints. Sure, sex was on his mind, but in the normal way it was for any man in the company of anattractive woman – a basic instinct, not a necessity to feed his twisted mind.
He still couldn’t decide what he wanted from her, or whether it was worth chasing after, but he intended to give her his gift.
No better time than right now.
Constantine went to the locker where his clothes were stored and took out the sleek SIG Sauer from his jacket. The pistol had an intricate design. A dragon tail was encrusted on the length of the slide, while a fire-breathing dragon snout marked the handle. The decoration was delicate and didn’t hinder the grip. It was a small, exquisite weapon that would feel right at home in Diana’s hand.
He approached her and handed it to her. “It’s for you.”
Diana lowered her eyes to the gun. “I…”
“Take it.” He held her palm and placed the metal in it. When her fingers wrapped around the handle, Constantine felt like he’d just slipped a beautiful diamond bracelet around her wrist.
“It’s gorgeous,” she said after inspecting it. “But you know that firearms aren’t allowed in the tournament?”
“It’s small and easy to hide. I want you to stash it somewhere in your clothes, and if you feel someone is about to take your life, use it to fill the fucker’s head with bullets.”
Diana laughed. “If I break the rules, the tournament guards will kill me on the spot.”
“Nonetheless, you will have an extra thirty seconds to escape.” Constantine smiled, but he wasn’t joking in the slightest. He hoped Diana would listen. In complete contradiction, he also didn’t want the moment to feel more sentimental than it already did, so he added, “Come on. Hide it somewhere and let’s continue.”
Diana nodded and tucked the pistol away in her gym bag. They were starting another round when his phone went off. It was Nyavolski, letting him know they’d returned from the temple.
“I have to go,” Constantine told Diana. She’d taken the gun out of her gym bag again and was staring at it, her expression softer than usual. He decided to take advantage of the moment. “Diana, how about I take you out to dinner?”
She frowned.Damn.This woman couldn’t be impressed.
The gun rolled between her fingers as she toyed with it. “I… drink blood, Constantine.”
His lips twisted into a thin smile. So, that was it. Diana was one of those creatures who adhered to their species’ traditions. It wasn’t unexpected that she’d only consume the basics.
“Leave that to me.” He winked. “After all, it’s not right to leave without once being served blood in a champagne glass, right?”
He’d intended to say it wasn’t rightto die, but suddenly, the phrase felt too grim, even if meant in jest.
She looked at him from beneath her black eyelashes. “I suppose you’re right.”
***
Constantine strode into the Council meeting room, still wearing his workout clothes. An uneasy hush hung over the room like a shroud. Helena Nyavolska sat in her usual spot, her gaze fixated on her long nails. Her husband leaned beside her, scowling. Viktor paced around the table with his hands clasped behind his back, while Alex was huddled in a chair, eyes cast down at her shoes. Amelia stood by the window with her back to the room.
