“His...indecisiveness...” Taj spoke deeply.
“When he marked you, he challenged Octavius’s right to rule his territory. His refusal to change you or feed off you over the past seven years means his stake is forfeit. Octavius can challenge to take his territory back. That’s likely why he’s here.” Jasmine stopped next to Ava, bearing a look of concern on her gorgeous face.
“Which also means you’re up for grabs.” Taj shot Ava a condescending look.
“Cassius is the last of the Aurelias. His lineage won’t continue without a mate. He thought he could get away with never claiming one, living by himself in perpetual solitude, letting the Boracellis have at it until...” Jasmine looked at Cassius, who had turned away from them all.
“Until he saved my life.” Ava felt the weight of her words as they hung in the air.
“Yes.” The solitary sound of his voice struck a chord deep within her and she had to refrain from reaching out to comfort him.
They’d really made a mess of things, hadn’t they?
Chapter Eleven
Ava should have been concerned, or afraid, of being left with two unknown vampires in a house in the middle of the woods. Yet, somehow, she was strangely comforted.
Because he trusts them. She watched Cassius leave the kitchen, his head hung in shame as he closed the door to his bedroom behind him.
Jasmine set a hand on Ava’s shoulder, making her jump slightly. “He’s been struggling with telling you for the past seven years. He wanted you to know—”
“He had this grand idea that you would just ask to be turned willingly,” Taj interrupted.
“Why the hell would I ask to be a vampire?” Her voice didn’t sound as cold or disgusted as it should have. It just sounded tired.
“We told him as much. After all, you and your brother are quite good at what you do.” Despite the subject matter, she didn’t sound offended or perturbed in the least. Jasmine pulled the empty plate toward her from across the island and looked at it in awe. “How sweet, he made you breakfast. Taj, when is the last time you cooked me breakfast?” She pouted seductively.
“I always let you have the first kill. Isn’t that enough?” He grumbled as he found his way to the couch. He flipped on the television and the sound of a crowd cheering erupted from the speakers. Ava glanced at the screen. Soccer.
The idea that a foreboding looking vamp such as Taj was subject to couch potato tendencies just seemed...wrong. The only thing vamps desired was blood, nothing else.
Or so she thought.
“Yeah, well, on that note, I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.” Ava smoothed her hair back as she glanced at the door.
“Where will you go?” Jasmine cocked her head with an inquisitive look.
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” Ava smirked.
“Try not to end up with the damn Boracellis again. Especially Octavius. I’d hate to see Cassius lose his shit again over some pesky mortal.” Taj grunted without looking up from his television.
Ava reached into her bra, her fingers gripping the stake. She was at Taj’s back within a heartbeat, the fine, sharp tip pushing gently into the skin at the back of his thick, dark neck.
“I am not ‘some pesky mortal’, and you would be wise to remember that.” She let the words dance out of her mouth, laced with anger and frustration.
Jasmine giggled behind them. “Quite the firecracker isn’t she, Taj? Oh, to be so young and full of life.” Her sing song tone seemed nostalgic somehow.
Ava removed the stake from the back of Taj’s neck and walked out the door, realizing she’d left her clutch at the restaurant with Mal.
Dammit. No matter. She stilled her focus as she took in the expanse of trees and shrubbery before setting off down the dirt path toward the unknown.
The cool morning air nipped at her bare arms and she rubbed them slightly as she followed the well-worn trail away from the cabin. Birds chirped melodically above her and Ava shivered as the path suddenly stopped. She looked both ways for any sign of recent activity, footprints or hiking markers, but all she saw was forest.
When in doubt, go north. She pushed forward, twigs and undergrowth scratching at her legs and ankles. She’d spent the night in her cocktail dress in Cassius’s bed. The realization made her flush with heat.
The last thing she truly remembered was the feel of Octavius’s thrall. How it had pulled her under, the numb feeling spreading through her limbs. How Cassius had held her tightly. She had wanted nothing more than to succumb to his warmth, to his voice. Octavius’s thrall had made her weak and wanton as it brought forth the things she’d tried so hard to push below the surface. She would be prepared next time she ran into Octavius Boracelli. Her wall would have to be impenetrable.
Fangs poised above her neck, the feel of his proximity, her blood pumping with desire and need...
It all took her back to the night of the party, seven years ago at Alpha Phi Omega, when Cassius had sunk his fangs into her skin. It was the one and only time she’d ever felt his thrall. It had been...peaceful in a way. She had felt pain at the bite but it was masked heavily. Cassius’s thrall wasn’t anything like Octavius’s but it still lay in her thoughts, along with every other feeling she’d tried to avoid since that night.
He thought I’d ask him to finish the job? To turn me? Why on Earth would he have thought that? Did he want that? Her mind raced with thoughts as she tried to put the puzzle together.
He did ask permission to bite her, Ava knew that wasn’t a normal thing vamps did, especially when the circumstances were dire. And he had flirted with her over the years but it was just harmless. Wasn’t it?
He was a perfectly constructed tower of sex appeal; it was part of his nature—to be appealing to mortals. It had nothing to do with him. He was more annoying than anything, always showing up like some knight in bloody armor trying to save her from the perils of mundanity with fresh Danishes and coffee, gorgeous looks and incapacitating wit and sarcasm.
How are we going to get out of this mess?
When she saw the asphalt through the clearing, she sighed with relief.
Chapter Twelve
It was still early when she turned into her driveway. The Impala sat parked in the driveway and the house looked peaceful. She prayed Mal would still be sleeping and she could slip in unnoticed.
Her hopes disintegrated when Connie opened the door. She cast a rather disappointed look at her.
“You had your brother and me worried sick, Ava! You could have called!” Her accent was showing; a sign that she was indeed worried, and Ava felt a sudden wash of disappointment herself. She felt like she was sixteen all over again.
“I know. I’m sorry.” She raised an eyebrow and did her best to appear downtrodden, which wasn’t difficult considering she had just walked all the way from the lake to the outskirts of Chester.
In heels.
Connie waved her inside and hollered, “She’s home, Malcolm! She’s alright.” She shut the door behind Ava.
Incoherent mumbles in Chinese broke through Ava’s thoughts. Ava was glad she couldn’t speak it because the accusatory tone was all she needed to know that the angry housekeeper was cursing her.