Page 47 of Viktor's Temptation
“Viktor,” she whispered again, her voice barely audible. She needed him. She needed the safety and reassurance that only he could provide.
Chapter 26
Viktor knew something was wrong the moment he entered his penthouse. The air was heavy, tense, as though the walls themselves bore witness to something he had missed. Trent’s urgent call echoed in his mind, telling him Gracie needed him immediately. He had left the meeting with his directors without hesitation, but now the silence felt deafening.
“Where is she?” Viktor demanded, his sharp gaze sweeping the room. The normally calming space of his penthouse felt like an alien battleground now, its pristine surfaces and luxurious decor starkly at odds with his growing unease.
“On the sofa,” Trent replied, jerking his head toward the expansive sectional near the glass wall that overlooked the city.
But when Viktor’s eyes scanned the area, she wasn’t there. “Where?” he snarled, his voice low and dangerous.
Trent jerked his chin in the direction of the sofa. “She’s… there,” he said, gesturing toward the far end of the sectional.
Viktor’s chest tightened. He could sense her pain, raw and unrelenting, but the fact that he couldn’t see her unnerved him. He crossed the room in three long strides, his gaze searching desperately. Then he heard it—a faint whimper, barely audible but enough to send him into action.
Rounding the corner of the sectional, Viktor found her. Gracie was curled into a tight ball, her arms wrapped around her legs as if trying to hold herself together. She looked impossibly small, fragile in a way that tore at his chest. The sight of herlike this—so vulnerable, so broken—made him want to destroy whatever had caused her pain.
“Why the hell didn’t you do something?” Viktor growled at Trent, his fury barely contained. He wanted to lash out, to blame someone, but deep down, he knew that if he had walked in to find Trent comforting Gracie, his jealousy might have erupted uncontrollably.
Instead, he focused on her. Dropping to one knee, Viktor gently scooped Gracie into his arms. Her body trembled against his, and she buried her face against his neck with a shuddering sob. “You’re back!” she cried, her voice thick with relief. “Thank goodness, you’re back!”
The sheer trust in her words and the way she clung to him sent a wave of protectiveness surging through him. He tightened his arms around her, holding her as if he could shield her from every harm in the world.
“I’m here, Gracie,” he murmured, his voice soft yet unyielding. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her sobs began to fade, her breathing evening out as the tension drained from her body. Slowly, she relaxed against him, her warm breath brushing against his neck as she drifted into an exhausted sleep. Viktor leaned back against the sofa, his fingers smoothing over her hair as he cradled her close.
For a man who had spent centuries keeping the world at arm’s length, this moment was both a revelation and a torment. The trust Gracie gave him was humbling, a gift he hadn’t realized he craved until now. He marveled at how easily she fit into his arms, as if she’d been meant to be there all along.
Trent moved to stand in front of him, his expression grim. “She remembered the face of the man who did this to her,” he said, his voice low with restrained fury. “She described him in detail before the pain took over.”
Viktor’s jaw clenched, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. “What else?” he demanded, his hand absently rubbing soothing circles on Gracie’s back.
Trent began to pace, his hands fisting at his sides. “Before the memories hit, she said she wanted to go back to her house. She mentioned not trusting herself because she stayed with that prick of an ex for too long. Then she was hit with another wave of pain.”
Viktor’s focus sharpened. “She doesn’t trust her feelings for me?” His voice was dangerously quiet.
Trent lifted a hand, stepping back as if to avoid Viktor’s wrath. “Don’t ask me to explain. Relationships aren’t my thing.”
Before Viktor could press him further, Mikail strode into the room, his phone pressed to his ear. “The witches found something,” he announced, his tone clipped and urgent.
Viktor gently shifted Gracie so she rested more comfortably against him, though he kept one arm securely around her. “What did they find?”
Mikail joined Trent, his expression as serious as Viktor had ever seen it. “Sorcia’s team sensed something near an old crematorium in the Jefferson District. It’s spewing smoke, but the place was abandoned decades ago. It’s not near where we found the other burned remains.” He scowled, shaking his head. “Maybe this bastard found a more efficient way to burn hismistakes.” He sighed. “Sorcia said there’s an odd scent coming from the site, but there’s no sign of movement or vehicles parked nearby.”
Viktor’s grip on Gracie tightened instinctively. His gut told him this was it. “It’s him,” he growled, torn between his need to stay and comfort Gracie and his burning desire to eliminate the threat to her once and for all.
“Go,” Gracie whispered, her voice hoarse but determined. She lifted her head, her eyes glassy with exhaustion but sharp with resolve. “The vampire you’re looking for… he’s about five feet nine, with a rough beard and soft brown hair. He wears dark shirts and matching ties—kind of cheesy.” She winced, rubbing her temples. “I think his name is Dave. He’s painfully average.”
Viktor’s hand stilled against her back as he met Mikail’s gaze. “Do we have any Daves in our database?”
“I’m sure there are a few,” Mikail replied, already dialing his team. “I’ll narrow it down.”
Gracie’s hand found Viktor’s arm, her grip surprisingly firm. “I want to go with you,” she said softly.
He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin. “Gracie,” he began, his voice steady but pained, “I can’t focus on catching this bastard if I’m worried about you. You being with me would put us both in danger.”
She hesitated, then nodded, though her eyes filled with frustration. “I’ll stay. But you better bring him back alive, Viktor. I want to look him in the eye.”
