Ethan hadn’t spoken a single word to me since he showed up at Finn’s house. Hell, he’d barely even spared me a glance, and it cut like a knife. I just wanted to go back to the way things were, but that wasn’t to be. Delilah said that when it came to betrayal, Ethan didn’t let things go, and boy, was she telling the truth.
It was dark out when I finally got home. I slotted my key into Finn’s front door, hearing chattering coming from the kitchen. When I stepped into the hallway, shrugging out of my coat and hanging it on the banister at the end of the stairs, I picked out two voices.
Rita and Ethan.
It was all I could do not to roll my eyes.
Ethan had been doing his utmost to get close to Rita lately. The bastard knew she was powerful. I think he also knew how much I liked her and that’s why he was laying on the charm. He was trying to lure her away. Just one part of what was sure to be a thorough and complicated revenge sequence. I didn’t even have it in me to be worried. I was too lost in grief over my dad. It killed me inside to not know whether I’d ever be able to save him from wherever he was. Even with all my magic, I still felt completely useless.
Disgruntled, I flung open the kitchen door and limped my way over to the sink to wash my hands. Their chatting immediately ceased, and Rita let out a quiet gasp.
“What happened to you, Tegan?” She rose from her seat, a look of worry on her face as she took in my injuries.
“I got caught up in a riot down on Campion Row. Some crazy bastard attacked me.”
“Jesus, why would he attack you?” She fussed over my face while Ethan stood stoically on the other side of the room, expressionless. If it bothered him to see me beaten up, he didn’t show it.
“I don’t know,” I told Rita. “But something fishy is going on. One minute everything was normal, people going about their business, and the next, they were transformed into a bunch of violent lunatics.”
I allowed myself a glance at Ethan. There was a quick flash of anger before his face returned to the usual blankness he bestowed upon me daily. I almost gasped when his cold eyes cut right through me. Whoa.
I looked back to Rita because I couldn’t handle the intensity of Ethan’s hatred. “Do you think it might have something to do with Theodore? I seriously wouldn’t put it past him to try turning the human population violent simply for his own entertainment.”
Rita leaned back against the counter, a thoughtful expression on her pixie-like face. Today she wore dark red lipstick, paired with this weird white eye shadow and mascara. It was a striking look; something you’d see on a catwalk model. Definitely not your typical everyday make-up. Her outfit consisted of ripped black jeans and a lacy purple shirt. Oh yeah, and bare feet. Rita loved to go around barefoot. Perhaps she felt it brought her closer to some kind of earth magic.
“Theodore could be behind it, but there’s also a chance it seeped through from the hell dimension when Marcel opened the portal. There’s some dodgy stuff over there, stuff that might make people go a little bit crazy when released into the atmosphere.”
“Can you be more specific?” I asked.
“Malevolent entities, spirits, demons, that kind of thing.”
“Yay, I love it when evil comes for a visit. Remind me to ask Finn where he keeps the good china,” I replied sarcastically.
“Good luck with that. I don’t think Finn’s the kind of man to own fancy china.”
I stepped away, glancing from Rita to Ethan. “Well, I’ll let you two get back to whatever you were up to before I interrupted. I’m going to see if there’s a first-aid kit upstairs.”
Ethan was stony-faced, but then he suddenly strode toward me, grabbed my wrist, and yanked me from the room. “What are you doing? Let go of me,” I protested as he ushered me up the stairs to the bathroom.
Without a word, he slammed the door and turned over the lock. My heart pounded as I finally managed to jerk my wrist from his hold.
“Unlock the door, Ethan,” I demanded, standing as far away from him as I could in the small room.
“No,” he grunted, his jaw working. The tension emanating from him gave me goosebumps.
“Have you finally decided to acknowledge my existence then?” I asked, folding my arms. My attitude was all bluster. It was my only defence. Being in close proximity to him had my insides going haywire.
“Stop talking, or I won’t help you.”
“I don’t need your help. I’m fine.”
His eyes travelled over my bruised face, and if I wasn’t mistaken, they strayed to my lips for a fraction of a second before meeting my gaze again. “You don’t look fine.” He gripped my shoulders, pushing me over to the edge of the bath. “Sit down.”
With a distinct gulp, I did as he said. The brief pressure of his hands on my shoulders was annoyingly pleasurable. I resented how much my silly, sentimental heart latched onto any tiny grain of attention from him. I exhaled nervously, hoping he couldn’t smell how I was feeling, the guilt mixing with need.
His gaze flashed to mine, so heated it practically scorched. His lips parted slightly, and his sharp, white fangs extended downward. He straddled the bathtub, placing one foot inside it and the other on the tiled bathroom floor so that he sat facing me. He lifted his wrist to his mouth, eyes still trained on mine, then bit down, breaking the flesh.
“What are you doing?” I gasped. “You just bit yourself.”
Blood began to seep from the puncture before he thrust his wrist at me. “Drink. It will heal you.”
“No, thanks,” I said, tensing again. Just like the last time he’d offered me his blood, I felt pulled in, entranced by the allure of it.
“Just drink, Tegan. I can tell you’re in pain.”
On instinct, I licked my lips. “Does this mean we’re friends again?”
His expression was infuriatingly blank. “You and I will never be friends,” he replied coldly, and the statement cut me to the quick.
“Well, that’s very definitive. I thought that maybe with time you could bring yourself to forgive—”
“Friends do not want each other as we do,” he said, cutting me off and causing butterflies to fill my stomach. “And no, you are not forgiven, but that doesn’t mean I want you to be in physical pain. Now drink.”
I stared at him, gobsmacked. I’d barely heard the bit about me not being forgiven because I was too fixated on the part about him wanting me. He still wanted me. The thought made me feel hot all over. It also gave me hope that one day things could be different between us.
I glanced at his wrist again, and it was like someone cast a spell on me. I leaned closer, and before I knew it, my mouth had latched onto him and the sweet nectar that was his blood slithered down my throat. A small hiss escaped him at the contact, and arousal swept through me.
At first, I drank tentatively, but when the honey-sweet taste hit my tongue, I started to take much deeper gulps. I was vaguely aware of him groaning and shifting closer, but I was too consumed by his blood to be fully aware of what was happening.
A second later, he picked me up and flipped me across the room, caging me against the wall. Ethan pressed his body flush with mine as I continued to drink from him. I opened my eyes, and our gazes locked. Sexual energy thickened the air. He ran the tip of his nose up the side of my neck softly, as though tracing the line of a vein.