Page 120 of House of Crimson Hearts
She glowers at me from the corner and crosses her legs. “I like to think that I’d change the city for good. I’d stop the segregation the territories create. We’d become one united city. I’d impose more laws protecting humans.”
That catches my attention. “Why? Why do that when they’ve treated you so badly?”
She opens her mouth and then closes it, choosing instead to stare out of the window. After a moment she turns back to me.
“I think… because of you.”
“Me?” I say, touching my chest.
“I have always led with a hard hand. Forced my club-goers to bend to the mansion’s magic. Forced their kindness towards me. If they come into the club, they can’t ignore me or treat me like a freak. It goes against all of their natural instincts, of course, and it hasn’t worked.”
“They all flinch away from you. They don’t catch your eye if they can avoid it. Which brings me back to my original question. Why the change?”
“Because I treat everyone around me with derision. Even the goyles. And yet, you treat them with kindness and generosity, and they behave differently towards you. So, I suppose you have become my muse, Verity. Your kindness is something I think I should try to emulate. And perhaps, the humans may in turn come to see me for more than the monster they’ve made me.”
I smile. “I think that’s a beautiful thing to do. And I have a good feeling that you’ll find they do come around to you. Hell, apparently,Idon’t hate you anymore.”
“You don’t?”
I shrug. “I don’t.”
She laughs, it’s a soft tinkling sound that makes me smile because it’s so different to the husky tone of her voice.
“I like your laugh. You should laugh more often.”
I lean forward and glance out of the window and whistle. While it’s tough to see far because we’re in the depths of the night, I can make out the woods nearest us. I must have lost track of time, we’re deep into the Montague territory. The carriage rocks unsteadily from side to side as the horses struggle to make their way through the overgrown forest paths.
“Wow, this part of the city is neglected,” I breathe. “It’s kind of creepy.”
Octavia gets up and comes to lean beside me. Her face is so close to mine, warmth bubbles between us. The now familiar scents of oud and spice and winter nights wrap around me. Her long locks drape over my shoulder, and I have the urge to lean in and smell her hair. Curl a lock around my finger.
My heart kicks up. She faces me, “Your heart…”
“I know,” I nod.
“Are you okay?”
I shake my head realising I’m far from okay. I want to kiss her, only there’s no blood in my system driving the desire. It’s just me and my wants and realising that is making me dizzy. My legs tremble. She slides her arm around me.
“Verity…”
“I’m okay, I just… I think I wanted to kiss you.” I cover my mouth shocked that I let the words out.
“So kiss me,” she grins.
I do. I lean up onto tiptoes and press my lips to hers. It’s tender, compared to the wanton fury in the club; this kiss is fuelled by desire and want and need. We stand there, locked against each other, drifting in the blissful taste of each other’s mouths, her hands roaming my back, tugging at me and pulling me closer.
My lips slide over hers, I suck her bottom lip into my mouth, and she groans against me.
“You don’t have my blood in your system,” she says.
“No, I don’t.”
“You actually wanted to kiss me?” she says, pulling away. Her eyes grow watery.
“I guess I did. Is that okay?” I ask, realising that she’s trying not to cry.
“Fuck. I’ve made a mess of this.” She sinks down onto the carriage seat.
