Page 26 of Sleepless Beauties
My lashes flutter and I pull my head up from his cotton shirt to find him staring down at me. There’s tension in his brow. A concerned sort of appearance that I’m just not comfortable receiving from someone so hot and hostile one minute, and cool and calm the next.
I’m all too aware of his body, and of mine. My fingers that are clinging to his neck lift, and I don’t know why I just slightly brush them over the bottom of his messy hair.
My heart seizes.
I have to be deadly careful of my heartbeat from here on out!
And I will be.
“Put me down,” I finally whisper.
I don’t look at him. It surprises me how gentle he is when he lowers me down his hard body and lets my heels click against the sidewalk before finally dragging his hands away. One hand grazes the open back part of my dress and a shiver races after his touch as he skims his fingers down my spine.
What the fuck is happening?
Why is my pulse sounding alarms right now?
I inhale slowly and exhale even slower.
Everything will be fine.
I count the drumming within my chest until it’s no longer something I can hear, but only something I’ll depend on dearly for the next four weeks.
Stay alive.
That’s the only goal when you’re a human walking into a den of thirsty vampires.
If I’m not careful, I could end up dead… or worse.
Something looming sends a spider crawling chill across my flesh. My attention drifts to the moon haloing the lone building just past the draping vines of the willow trees surrounding us. Through the dry leaves, the spikes of the church can be seen piercing the starless sky. The jagged metal sheathing the tips of the pointed roof top are as ornate as they are ominous.
But there’s not a single cross in sight.
But it’s still a place of religion. It was once a house of God, though now its faith is one of a different kind.
A very,verydifferent kind.
I think back to when I snuck up to the property of Hell after Kyra’s confession that she feared someone within the council. Some vampires can walk relatively freely in the daylight, but they’re still very much creatures of the night. I had spied on the cruelest vampire: Aston. He was exactly as my sister described: Heartless to the core.
I spotted him cornering Kyra. I knew who he was by her body language during their simple interaction: from the way she repelled away from him, but he just kept going. He kept on antagonizing her. It was quiet in the bright afternoon hours as I watched through the window. And I was just as quiet while I plotted his gruesome death.
I’ll finally be able to make good on that plan.
Today I’ll walk in as Kyra, and walk out as a killer.
And knowing that no one will ever have to fear the man who took so much from Kyra ever again, that will be enough to ease my conscience.
I’m skipping too far ahead, though. I can’t think about that right now. I have to focus on… not breaking my very mortal neck in these monstrously high heels. It’s pathetic that this entire plan of theirs could crumple all because of a sprained ankle.
I lift my head high, straighten my shoulders to an impossible standard, and stride down the smooth brick sidewalk.
I only make it a few steps before I get pulled back into the brushing limbs of the tree. They sway around my hair in the cold breeze. I peer up at the dark eyes searching my face.
Vuitton’s worry isn’t a mask like Prey’s. The line between his eyebrows is deep and his apprehension in his gaze goes even deeper.
“Be careful, Kira,” he whispers as he steps away. “I’ll be watching. Keeping you safe.”
That’s sweet. He sounds a little creepy, but the situation calls for some borderline stalking, I think…
