Page 10 of Bitten & Burned
“Exactly,” I said, laughing. “Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him play a game. Unless you count coming up with ways to insult me. If you do, he’s a candidate master at that.”
“He doesn’t hate you, Rowena. He’s just… resistant to change.”
“I’ve been coming there every other weekend for months now. And hey—I never said he hated me!”
“You said he insults you.”
“Not the same as hate… wait…” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Doeshe hate me? What do you know?”
Vael’s gaze flicked away—brief, but enough to make my stomach drop. “Nothing.”
“Vael.”
“Nothing! I swear!” Vael raised both hands in surrender. “And he doesn’t hate you. I think.”
I scoffed. “Can I bring him something? Bribe him, maybe?”
Vael snorted. “Why do you care what he thinks of you?”
“Because. He’s in your coven. I care about you; therefore, I want your coven to like me. And that includes Quil.”
Vael’s smile was easy, but his eyes lingered on me a moment too long. “Well. You’ve never failed at anything once you’ve set your mind to it.”
“Thank you,” I said, snuggling up to him.
“Can you put your mind to making him like me, too, while you’re at it?” Vael asked.
I laughed. “I’m a high achiever, not a Quil-whisperer.”
He chuckled and kissed the top of my head. “I believe in you, Witchling. You can do anything. Even make that grump like you.” He buttoned the coat and turned towards me. “Breakfast? I will have to start it over, but you should eat something after all that?—”
“Energy I just exerted?”
He smirked. “Blood loss. But yes, I suppose you did work yourself up into a frenzy.”
“Afrenzy?” I squealed. “A frenzy? You’re the one who?—”
Vael grinned and pulled me into his arms for a smoldering kiss. “You make me a weak man, Witchling. Only for you.” He swept from the room, and I swayed a bit on my feet. Either from the blood loss he’d mentioned, or maybe just from the kiss. I followed him, sat in the kitchen while he prepared my breakfast with an apron over his impeccable outfit.
He messed up the first two, sliding them onto a separate plate. “I suppose those are mine!” I smiled. It seemed as if sometimes, he did it on purpose so he could eat them.
It might have been surprising to some, but lots of vampires ate food; they didn’t need to, but they could if they wished. Dmitri claimed it tethered them to their human years, Anton said it made the blood sit sweeter, and Vael—predictably—called it nostalgia wrapped in etiquette. “It helps humans feel more at home around us, it’s a service, truly,” he’d said, mouth full of tea and toast.
Regardless of Vael’s cooking “mishaps”, I was soon eating my eggs and toast, sipping a fresh cup of tea with my bare foot in Vael’s lap. His hands were rubbing the sole, and he looked… pensive.
I hadn’t forgotten what Vael had said before, but it didn’t seem like the right time to bring it up. He was only half-paying attention.
No… less than that. Quarter-paying attention, at best.
“Will you let me look at that amulet sometime?” he asked, proving a point without even knowing it.
“Sure. You want it now?” I fingered the chain where it lay against my chest, then slipped it free and let the silver links slide into my palm. I passed it to him.
It felt oddly warm as it left my skin—probably my imagination. Or not. Everything about the amulet was strange.
Vael turned it over, tracing the back of the setting. Watching him examine it pulled me back to the moment Silas first gave it to me, apologizing for the chain being silver, worried it might harm Vael. I’d laughed at the thought. The old myths were just that. Silver wasn’t dangerous to vampires unless they had some rare allergy, like a nosegay to humans. It seemed like something my mentor should know, but perhaps not.
Almost everyone in Vael’s coven had handled the amulet at least once. Anton had joked that it gave him a weird tingling. Dmitri had grunted something noncommittal. Cassian had held it with only his fingertips, studying the runes as Vael did now.
