Page 32 of The Curse of Eternity
“Your escort will arrive shortly. I hope the dress fits.” She eyed my full hips, and I shifted from one foot to the other. “If not, perhaps Lucian will have you taken to his private rooms—nude.” A catty smile flitted across her face on her exit. Movement a blur, she left the room with such haste that it must’ve been meant to unsettle me.
Except as the door clicked shut, locked once more from the outside, I couldn’t suppress my shiver. Come hell or high water, I was going to stuff myself into that damn dress. I wiped my sweaty palms on my disgusting jeans and then unbuttoned them.
The orb in my pocket went straight into my sock, held snugly between my foot and combat boot. Alone, and naked, since my underwear reeked as badly as my tank top, I worked on getting the dress over my head. Even with the zipper undone, it was a hassle figuring out which were the neck and arm holes. By the time it was on straight, it felt like my ribs were encased in fabric shackles.
No matter how many times I held my breath, the stupid zipper was stuck only a couple of inches from closing. Flushed and frustrated, I gave up on it. Then I plopped onto the bed to catch my breath from the minimal effort. This wasn’t good, and even with the orb up my sleeve—or down my sock—I had no idea what it was meant to do or really how to activate it.
I closed my eyes for a long moment that turned into several more while my heart raced. There was no knock at the door before it creaked, and my eyes flew open. I was on my feet instantly, woozy but determined not to show it. Especially when I recognized who stood in the back-lit doorway.
“What areyoudoing here?” I demanded, and the sorcerer had the gall to look offended by my tone.
“Every respectable young lady needs an escort,” Ezra answered, the corners of his lips twitching when my eyes narrowed.
“Very funny,” I grumbled, frowning at his offered arm. Undead monsters lunging at my throat, I could handle. Outdated etiquette in the proverbial lion’s den was way out of my comfort zone. When I showed no indication of moving things along, Ezra sighed.
“You will fare better if you play your part,” he advised, and I scoffed.
“Is that what you’re doing? Are you just acting like a traitor to your own kind, or are you really that low?” Despite my vitriol, Ezra appeared unfazed.
“It’s the latter. Happy?” His bright smile lit up his piercing green eyes. Gritting my teeth, I stared at his arm.
“Do I have to?” I asked, my voice smaller than intended, and only then did it seem like Ezra’s expression faltered.
“It’s in your best interest.” His tone was flat, but there was something in his stare that made me uncomfortable. Like I was being scrutinized under an x-ray. Then his attention traveled lower, landing on my boot. A frown pinched his features, and I quickly closed the distance between us.
“Okay, fine,” I snapped, my pulse pounding, fearing what he might have sensed. Thankfully, his gaze returned to mine when I awkwardly grasped his arm like I did to the handlebars on my first bicycle. “Let’s get out of this room. I’m sick of it, anyway.”
A sour smile spread across his lips while he adjusted my arm so that it was under and around his. The oddly intimate contact with the man who caused me such intense psychic pain only a few days ago made me stiffen, and I kept my back straight as Ezra led us out into the hall.
There was no guard outside the door to my prison, but Ezra was more than capable of knocking me down if needed. Slowly, I breathed in and out while my gaze roamed the wide hallway. Paintings were hung interspersed between weapons on display, almost like how Caleb had decorated his bedroom.
Except while Caleb collected band posters and Native American artifacts, all of the pointy objects here looked like something out of medieval Europe. Every window was shuttered closed, locked down so tightly that no ounce of sun or moonlight would penetrate. Lit sconces lined the wallpapered hall, emitting an eerie glow over the golden runner we strode down.
“What do these monsters have against natural lighting?” I muttered, bristling when Ezra chuckled. I looked him up and down, from his dark purple suit to the oddly fitting beret atop his brown curls. “What?”
“Oh, nothing at all.” Ezra’s smiling lips pressed closed momentarily. “All brawn and no brains makes for an interesting combination.”
“Yeah, well, at least I’m not stupid enough to turn my back on my own people,” I retorted in a whisper, and then jumped when Ezra’s arm tightened against mine.
“Trust me, ‘people’ made me the man I am today.” His relaxed features were aloof, but those piercing green eyes seemed to burn behind the pupils. Swallowing hard, I struggled not to shrink from his presence.
“And vampires made me into what I have to be.” My voice pitched low, and sweat beaded on my brow, but I refused to show the sorcerer any fear.
He blinked, and the unexpectedly vulnerable reaction emboldened me. Where did he get off trying to tell me thatpeoplewere the problem? Whatever sob story existed in his past didn’t justify the hell of my present.
Ezra’s brows pulled together curiously, but I faced ahead after we turned yet another corner. A subtly beating drum was growing stronger. It pulsed louder underfoot, accompanied by the cadence of stringed instruments that filtered down the barren corridors. Hairs rose along my exposed arms, and my jaw clenched. Somewhere ahead, the scent of decay wafted closer, and the undead hungered.
“How can you even stand being around them?” I mumbled. “All they are is death and depravity.”
“You seem to manage just fine,” Ezra replied, tone lofty and superior.Was he crazy?I spun to face him.
“I’d kill every single one of those bastards given the chance—”
“I didn’t see yourbladeinside Ignatius Drake’s throat when I found you two.”
Heat rushed to my face, and I opened my mouth only to stammer in shock. “That’s not— It’s different, I— Why do you care!” My exclamation was followed by Ezra’s laughter, but it quickly died when I started to pull from his grasp.
“Not yet,” Ezra murmured, still sounding amused despite the severe grip he kept on my arm. It hurt where his suit rubbed against my bruised wrist, but his hold loosened when I stopped trying to move away.
