Page 54 of House of Pawns
And then everything we became ruined it all.
I walk over to his worn out couch, past the garbage can in the kitchen that’s full of empty blood bags, and sink into it, sitting in the far corner.
I can rule a house of vampires as a human, but I cower from the one who left me and broke my heart into a million sharp shards.
Ian closes the front door and it’s only just now that I realize how light it still is outside. Him being out there, standing in even the dim light had to be painful. But now, we’re once again closed in darkness. He turns on a lamp and we’re cast in a dim glow.
“I, um,” I begin when he doesn’t say anything. “We caught the spy. He does work for the King. He let us know the timeframe.”
“You feel like you’re prepared?” he asks. He pulls over one of the dining chairs and sits in it, arms crossed over his chest.
I swallow once more. “I suppose so. I have the support I think I need. And, well, I was prepared to die once before.”
It’s a shallow and desperate tactic, but I so badly want to remind him of how much he meant to me. That I was once willing to die to save him. How much I think he still means to me.
And I think it works. Because Ian suddenly can’t look at me any more. His eyes go to the floor. His breath deepens and speeds up just slightly.
“I’ve missed you, Ian,” I breathe. So quietly I’m not certain I actually say it out loud. But it’s true and I can’t hold it in.
His breathing gets harder, harsher. And even though he won’t look at me, I can tell he’s warring with some kind of desire.
I stand, and slowly, cautiously, strained and desperate, I cross the room toward him.
“Ian,” I breathe. “I miss you every second. I miss you beside me in my bed. I miss the way you whisper my name. I miss the taste of your lips.” I stop just a foot in front of him. I am pathetic and low and begging, and nothing in me feels ashamed of it. “I missus.”
And in a movement that is impossible, Ian is on his feet and I’m yanked up from the floor. My legs are forced apart and strong hands are gripping my ass, holding me close to Ian’s hard frame. My back is pushed painfully against the wall and then Ian’s lips are on mine.
The breath whooshes out of my chest in one lusty sigh. My lips part to invite Ian’s tongue, which is demanding and desperate. My hands tangle in his hair, pulling not so gently. Ian’s left hand supports my weight as his right comes to cup my face.
Stars and explosions are taking over my body. I am alive. Weare all that has ever existed and all that will ever matter in this dark and dangerous world.
My hands slide down to his shirt and I tug it up, up and over his head, forcing our lips to part for just a second that is too long. I toss it too the floor and let my hands trace over his chiseled chest with no hesitance.
Ian pulls us away from the wall and turns, crossing into the kitchen. He sets me down on the kitchen counter, only to yank me toward him, sending a little explosion of pleasure through my center when my open legs collide with his hardness.
There’s a glazed over look to Ian’s eyes as he removes my shirt and his lips return to my collarbone. My head lolls back and my eyes slide closed.
“Why do I still want you so bad?” he growls into my flesh. “One damn look and that’s all it takes.”
His lips slide up, his teeth brushing over my exposed arteries. One bite. A few long pulls. That’s all it would take. And then we’d be the same.
“Do it, Ian,” I suddenly say, even as I feel his fangs lengthen against my tender flesh. “I don’t want the King to be the one who takes me. I want it to be you.”
And just like that, Ian yanks back. His eyes glow bright, his fangs fully extended. “What?” he demands, anger in his eyes. “Are you kidding me? Are you talking about sex or dying here? Because either is just…” He takes a step away from me, giving me a disgusted look.
The lustful, blissed out fog clears from my brain in an instant, and I realize what I’ve just said. “I…” I stutter. “I thought…”
“What, Liv?” he demands as he bends down and grabs my shirt from the floor and tosses it at me. “That me killing youon my kitchen counter would fix anything? That it might magically change something? Or are we talking about sex, because supposedly you might be the King’s dead wife and who knows what kind of sick shit he’s going to do when he gets here in a few days.”
“Ian,” I say, my tone getting louder. I hop off the counter, pulling my shirt back on. “That’s not what I meant at all! I just…it was something said in the heat of the moment. But it’s true. I don’t want the King to be the one who kills me, but I am going to die sometime very soon.” Emotion takes hold of my throat and squeezes hard. “And I’d rather it be you who does it.”
He gives me a look like he doesn’t even know me. “I’m sure you can get one of your newfound lackeys to do it.”
And once again I choke up. “I’m sure I could,” I say, and my voice cracks slightly. “Because they’re there for me. They understand loyalty.”
Ian scoffs and soon it develops into a full-bellied laugh. “Do you realize how ridiculous you sound? What you just said? Loyalty? They’ve been with you for just a few weeks. After leaving someone they’ve been with for fifteen years. You think they understand loyalty? You’re a fool if you do.”
I realize I’m not breathing any more. Tears well heavy in my eyes and I shake my head. My lip threatens to tremble. Every piece of me is breaking inside.
