Page 74 of Wicked Bonds
The force of it would have knocked me across the room if I were solid. Instead, it passes through me like a violent wind, scattering dust and sending the pages of Rose’s book fluttering.
But it’s too late. Rose is already gone.
Thirty-Five
`
Soren
The connection snaps tight like a wire around my throat. One second I’m dumping my cup of atrociously sweet cider into the harvest arrangement beside me, the next Rose’s panic floods through the tenuous bond that has begun to form between us. The bond I pretend doesn’t exist, the one that formed when I fed from her dreams and tasted something I shouldn’t have wanted to taste again. Then the alarms are ringing.
I’m out the door before the cup hits the floor.
For a terrifying minute I lose our connection. It’s just there, and then it’s not, but then it’s back again. Fourth floor dormitory. The knowledge slams into me with absolute certainty. Not her room, on the quad, but the forbidden floor where that pathetic ghost spends his days.
The night air hits my face as I burst outside, and that’s when I feel him, the vampire prince in his over-starched collar, movingas fast as me across the quad. The bloodsucker must have sensed it too, like how he stalks Rose when he thinks no one’s watching. As if I don’t notice him lurking outside her classes, following her like a lovesick hound.
“Fuck off back to your masters, dog,” I snarl as he falls into step beside me. We’re both running full tilt now, supernatural speed turning us into shadows that normal eyes could never see.
“I’m not going anywhere.” His voice is that aristocratic drawl that makes me want to rip his throat out. “Rose needs?—”
“What? You? The Coven’s favorite pet?” I vault over a stone bench without breaking stride. “She needs you like she needs a curse.”
“At least I’m not feeding on her while she sleeps.”
“At least I’m not handing her over to the Coven.”
We hit the dormitory entrance at the same time, shoulders colliding as we both try to go through first. The door frame cracks under the impact. Neither of us gives an inch.
“Move.” His eyes flash red for a second.
“Make me, corpse.”
We shove through together, racing for the stairwell. My connection to Rose feels stronger now that we’re closer, but it’s different, less stable.
We take the stairs three at a time. “She’s done something,” Lucien says.
“Something that’s going to get her killed, yes, I’m aware.” I grab the railing and use it to launch myself up half a flight. “Which is why I need to get there, not you.”
“To protect her?” His laugh is bitter as winter. “That’s rich, coming from someone who crawled into her dreams uninvited.”
“She didn’t seem to mind.” The words come out defensive, which annoys me. I don’t defend myself to anyone, least of all sanctimonious vampires.
“She was unconscious.”
“She pulled me in.” I wheel around on the second-floor landing to face him. “Her need, her desire, it called to me. I didn’t force anything.”
“You took advantage.” He’s right behind me, too close. “Just like you always do.”
“And what do you do?” I’m moving again, taking the next flight even faster. “Follow her around, document her every move for Wickersly, pretend you’re protecting her while you’re really just Wickersly’s dog?”
“I’m trying to keep her alive.”
“For them! So they can drain her properly over two years instead of executing her tomorrow. What a hero you are, Prince Lucien. What a noble fucking sacrifice.”
Third floor. One more to go. The connection to Rose stutters, flickers, and for a second I lose it entirely. She’s gone, completely gone.
Then she’s back, but different. No, that’s not right. She’s overlapping with someone else, someone from a different time, and the distortion makes my head spin.
