Page 8 of House of Pawns
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says slowly. Three steps—four.
“I know you won’t.” And I’m not really sure the words are true. Because I’ve seen a vampire snap in bloodlust. But at least I have the comfort of knowing if he does, if he kills me, it will not be the end.
I should probably be afraid. Death is a serious matter.
But all I am is grateful.
My feet move without my permission. I dart down that hall. One bound at a time. My heart gains momentum as I move.
And then, there is no space between us at all.
My legs wrap around Ian’s waist and my arms snake behind his neck. My lips crush to his and I suck him in like air and I have been suffocating for days.
Something wild and not entirely in control escapes Ian in both sound and action. He slams my back into the hall wall in an attempt to eradicate any empty space between the two of us. His lips are wild and demanding. When my tongue slips into his mouth, I feel a sharp prick. His fangs.
My hands claw at his shirt, something new and fresh, and I pull it up and over his head. Ian’s hands cup my rear end, supporting me and making every nerve in me go wild.
I’ve heard make up sex is always the best, but I can’t imagine it’s anything compared to resurrection sex. And suddenly, all I can think about is the king-sized bed in my room and Ian in it.
A sharp pain suddenly blooms on my lip and I taste something coppery in my mouth.
And in an instant, Ian is down the hall with his back pressed flat against thewall.
His eyes glow.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Liv,” he growls through heavy breathing.
I can tell my eyes are wide. My chest heaves quickly. But despite my bleeding lip, I want more. “We’ll figure this out. It might take some time.”
“I won’t be responsible for your resurrection,” he says, and it’s pained and angry.
An annoyed weight instantly drops onto my shoulders. “Don’t be a drama queen, Ian. We’ll take it slow the next few days and things will be just fine.”
“Are you serious right now?” Ian asks in disbelief. His eyes fade just a bit, and he lets himself away from the wall. “I am avampirenow. I justbityou. And you’re telling me not to be a drama queen?”
“Yeah, I am.” I say it with a smile attempting to break onto my face.
It must be contagious. Ian doesn’t exactly smile, but all the hard lines on his face soften just a little bit. He shakes his head and gives a small scoff. “You’re unbelievable, Alivia Ryan.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I walk halfway down the hall picking up his shirt as I do, and extend my hand out toward him. “Now, come on. We’ve got some figuring out to do.”
Hesitantly, he takes my hand. “You’re a freak of nature, Alivia Ryan. No wonder I can’t stay the hell away from you.”
I smile as I offer him a side-glance. One by one, we descend the stairs.
We round them just as Angelica is about to head up them. The second her eyes meet Ian’s, she lets out a high-pitchedsqueak. The stack of towels she was carrying goes tumbling to the floor.
I don’t try to apologize this time. Ian does though, and I just tug him through the entryway.
“They know,” he says as I haul him toward the library. “How the hell do they know? Do I look any different? They’ve all seen me dozens of times before, and they’ve never been afraid of me.”
“Your grandmother isn’t the only one with a vampdar, apparently,” I say as we step over the threshold. “It makes sense they’re sensitive to vampires. They all worked for Henry for years.”
Ian lets my hand go, pulls his shirt back over his head, and stands before Henry’s portrait with his hands on his hips.
Ian. Here. Alive.
I kissed him just minutes ago. I buried him just days ago. I witnessed his murder less than a week ago.
