Page 34 of Ouch! My Vampire Doms Keep Biting Me
“Just a moment, love,” Will tells her. He gets up, sets her back on the chair with a blanket, and pulls on a pair of drawstring pants. “I need to speak to you, Xander.”
I lead the way out of his office and down the hall. When we’re far enough away from his office that she won’t overhear us, I say, “She can’t stay. We had a fucking agreement, Will.”
“She’s special.”
“All the more reason to cut ties and make her forget.” I hold up the oubliette. “It’s time for her to go. We’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”
“Yeah? We could take care of herhere.”
It’s understandable that he’s fighting me on this. The girl is sitting in the other room, naked, freshly fucked and likely ready to go again soon.
“Remember Elisabeth?” I say.
He steps back as if I’ve struck him. “I’ll never forgive you for this,” he snaps. “Never.”
“You’re thinking with your cock, not with your brain.We will kill her.”
“I’m thinking with myheart,” he hisses.
I want to roll my eyes. Will has always been the “sensitive” one between the two of us. That is why, after Elisabeth’s death, I had to be strong. If not for me getting us through the aftermath, we both would have died of blood madness.
“We have rules. We have made vows to each other and to Elisabeth’s memory. The girl must go.”
His shoulders sag. He’s defeated, but I take no pleasure in it. In some twisted way, a part of me wants him to fight, to fight for himself, for me, for this young girl and the potential of something bigger than any of us.
“Elisabeth,” he whispers.
I nod. “I’m sorry.”
“We both are.” He reaches for the bottle of oubliette in my hand. “I’ll send Autumn away. For her own good.”
“Obviously, I can’t trust you to do it,” I say, holding the vial out of his reach. “Go back to your room, say your goodbyes, and send her out to meet me in the hall.”
He clenches his jaw so hard, it’s a wonder his fangs don’t break.
I wait by the door. After a long moment and the sound of hushed voices, Autumn emerges from Will’s office, wearing clothes and carrying her bag and a purse. Her face is blank, expressionless. What emotions is she hiding? Is she hurting? My only comfort is that she won’t hurt for long. Soon, this won’t even be a memory for her.
Will and I, though—we live long, and we will never forget.
I open the door, and she steps through. I step out after her.
“You know I can’t forget what we did,” she says in a dull voice.
“Normally, you might not be able to forget,” I say, then hold up the bottle of oubliette. “This little bottle will help.”
“So it’s like a magic potion?”
“It’s exactly like a magic potion.”
She looks away from me. She smells like jasmine and sex and I want to turn her around, take her back inside the library, make her tell me every single thing Will just did to her so I can replay it for her with me as her costar.
Instead, I say, “I’ll escort you to a hotel. Is there one you prefer?”
“I don’t have any money,” she says.
“I’ll pay for a few nights, to help you get set up.” My voice is gruff and I sound angry, but I’m not angry at her. I’m angry that she doesn’t have everything she needs. I’m angry that Will and I can’t be the men to care for her.
“They won’t let me stay anywhere nice,” she says. “We’ll have to go to the other part of town.”
