Page 20 of The Crimson Princess
“Also gone, and for a very long time.”
He doesn’t offer details, and despite my desire to know more of the vampire king, I decide it’s best to let this go. Instead, I offer him a treat and we dig into a variety of pastries, and I’m pleased at how much he seems to enjoy the sweets. I almost forget the reputation vampires hold as the biggest threat to gale in existence, even more so than the druids. We just…get along. I share tales of me and my mom being taste-testers for Naomi, and he tells me all about a famous bakery in his kingdom with the best cherry chocolate cookies he’s ever tasted.
“Since I can’t visit,” I declare, “you cannot, and must not, return to Ravengale without cookies in hand. You understand that, right? It’s a necessary peace offering.”
He surprises me with a deep rumble of masculine laughter that defies the stories of his lethal ability to rip one’s throat out, but then, so does his love of cherry chocolate cookies. “In the name of peace, I will one day bring you cookies.”
I smile my approval and motion to his cup. “Do you like the cocoa?” I ask. “It’s my favorite thing Naomi serves here, even above the chocolate cookie.”
“I told them to pick a drink for me. It tastes like a vanilla coffee.”
“Why in the world didn’t they give you the cocoa? That’s unacceptable. Did you at least try it when you were here with my mother?”
“I was on edge when I met your mother, convinced it was a trick set-up by your father. I’m afraid I didn’t try the cocoa then, either.”
“That has to be remedied.” I glance behind me, and spy the long line at the counter, quickly ruling out a quest for another cup of cocoa before returning my attention to Toren. “I suppose it would be highly inappropriate for me to let you taste mine?”
“Appropriate is highly overrated,” he assures me.
There’s heat between us, the air thicker than any air I’ve ever breathed. “Well, then,” I say. “I wouldn’t want to start a war.” I offer him my cup, and when he reaches for it, our fingers collide and my lips part in shock, a slight tremble in my belly.
I swear his power of seduction is magic. It has to be magic.
He sips from the cup, right where my mouth had been moments before, and I watch the thick muscle of his throat bob. “It’s good,” he says. “Unique in a good way.” He sets the cocoa on the bar, his full attention on me, not the delicious drink. “You’re beautiful, Satima, a practiced warrior and far more powerful than you realize. That’s a lethal combination.”
“Meaning what?” I prod cautiously, the compliment lost in some deeper meaning.
“I respect your magic. What you do with it determines if I’ll still respect it later.”
His tone is even, but there’s a sharpness to his mood I do not miss. “Is that a threat?”
“I told you, princess, you’ll know if I threaten you. We are not enemies. Let’s not change that.”
“Why are you saying this now? Why is it necessary to you?”
“Because one day, I have no doubt, we’ll be faced with a decision to either stand together or stand against each other. I’m telling you right now, no matter what your father tells you, I’m with you until you give me no other choice.”
“Do you plan to give me a reason to stand againstyou, Toren?”
“Of course not, but in the too near future my brother will force us to make choices we would not otherwise make.”
“I don’t see how your brother could turn us against each other.”
“Your father’s a calculating man who wants power above peace.”
There is no defensiveness to be found in me. He’s not wrong. “But he’s no fool,” I counter, “proven by the fact that he’s been in power for what some might call an eternity.”
“He had your mother by his side many of those years. You’re more powerful than she was.”
“And you know this, how?” I ask, but even as I say the words, I answer for him. “Power knows power.”
“Power knows power,” he repeats. “And you knew mine the minute I walked into the room, just as I knew yours.”
But my father doesn’t, I think. Maybe because he hasn’t even really tried? But that makes no sense to me. He doesn’t have to try. He’s King Killian.Unless…unless it’s only Toren who can sense such things in me,I think uneasily, a warning inside me screaming at how close I’m allowing myself to become with my father’s enemy. “I should get back,” I say, justifying my sudden departure by adding, “One more day of the Tribute.” I scoot my stool back, and before I can slide off and to my feet, he’s standing, offering me his hand.
I hesitate, all too aware of what touching him does to me, the way it enviably heats my body inside and out. And so is he. A mix of satisfaction and challenge radiates from the depths of those blue eyes and both the warrior and woman in me will not allow him to believe I’m afraid of his touch. I press my palm to his, heat radiating up my arms and across my chest. He eases me to my feet, and far too close to him, the heat of his body next to mine. Vampires are not the cold, dead creatures of human horror stories, proven by the fire in my belly and the spark in the air between us.
“Thank you for sharing your memories with me tonight,” he murmurs, still holding my hand, his words a testament to his understanding of what those sweet treats meant to me.
