Chapter Fourteen

Hissing low through my teeth, my elbow throbbed, sending sparks of pain all the way into my shoulder. I pushed myself up with my opposite hand and glared towards the sound of the voice. "Bianca?" I bit out.

The light came up suddenly, giving me a chance to register the broom closet before my eyes flickered up to Bianca. I hadn't noticed earlier that she was wearing a slip dress the same color as my own. Or that her curls fell in perfect waves around her face. Or that she moved naturally in her heels. Now, she fit next to Charlemagne. The thought left a tightness in my stomach.

Her mouth twitched when she saw me notice. Bianca plucked at the hem of her dress. "You like? Charlemagne brought it for me." She said, "He's always loved dressing us up like his little dolls."

Swallowing hard, I reached back for a shelf to pull myself up and lean against it. My ankles, the bruise forming on my back, and my poor elbow throbbed in time to my heart. "You said we needed to talk?" I muttered. "I don't have time for this right now, I need—"

Her face was suddenly inches from mine, her hands on either side of my head, splintering the wooden shelves between her fingers. She showed her teeth when I cringed away in surprise. "You have time." Bianca murmured, her breath warm against my face and smelling distinctly of blood. "Everyone has time for a little girl talk."

There are moments where my brain is moving slower than my mouth. This was one of those moments. I wrinkled my nose. "You need a breath mint, Vampirella." I blurted out, turning my face away from hers to take a shallow breath.

Bianca hissed, her breath on my neck raising goose prickles along my skin. "I really cannot understand what Charlemagne sees in you." She bit out. "Or why your rejection would drive him to such lengths as to set him back the way it has. What's so special?"

I blinked. Ice gnawed at my stomach. Set him back? "What are you talking about? Drive him to what lengths? He didn't...he didn't kill those girls." I said, turning my face back to hers.

She cocked her head at me. "He didn't?" She pushed back from the shelves, her eyes lingering on mine. "When we were lovers, before he was... reformed, we used to play with little mice like you. He would lure them in and then he would slit them open and we would fuck in their blood." Bianca's mouth twitched. "You are surprised? I suppose you didn't get to that part yet?"

Her lips pressed into a pout. "It makes you wonder, doesn't it? How well you know the monster you let into your bed? I knew him very well, human. I even loved him. And he threw me away. What will happen to you? How long do you think he can pretend to be the person you think he is?"

My stomach twisted into a knot. It was like hearing my own worst insecurities parroted back to me with an added nightmarish twist. Charlemagne had secrets. Charlemagne had lied. He had a reputation for killing. Killing girls. A lot like me. Like Gemma and Darlene. The thought just didn't sit right. You can't love a lion into a housecat.

Or a loogaroo back into being human. Swallowing again, I pushed past her, and she let me. I slipped out of the broom closet, still cradling my elbow, as I absently made my way towards the living room. I wanted to hear what they were saying. I needed to be in the room. For me.

"Miss Braden." I glanced up at Detective Holden, her eyes slipped over me as she straightened from where she'd been leaning against the wall. "Are you alright?"

Charlemagne and Valentine rose from their seats, their eyes slipping over me. Concern pinched Charlemagne's brows, but Valentine looked curious. "Abigail." Charley breathed out, setting his glass of blood wine down and taking a step towards me.

"I'm fine." I said, dropping my arm and flexing my fingers until the throb turned into a dull ache. "I hit my elbow on the counter." I offered Charlemagne a small smile before ducking his gaze and starting towards the couch.

I settled down, aware of Charlemagne's eyes on the side of my face as he settled beside me. He reached for me to tuck me against his side, his thumb circled the back of my hip in a comforting arc. It felt good to have him touch me. But Bianca's voice was still slithering around in my head, asking me how much I knew about this monster I wanted to let into my bed.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He had shifted his attention back to Valentine, the wineglass back in his tapered fingers. He took a sip, the floral tangy scent of blood was already settling into his clothes, his skin. I remembered the last time he'd been drunk in front of me. He'd disappeared and come back splattered in blood. Darlene had been found the next night.

I shifted my gaze forward to find Valentine staring at me, half-expectant, half-curious. "Hmm?" I sounded, realizing he'd spoken to me, and I hadn't been paying attention.

A corner of Valentine's mouth twitched. "I just wanted to extend my apologies for my behavior last night. I hope you can forgive me, Miss Braden, things simply...got out of hand."

"The human will forgive you."

I glanced to the side. I hadn't even noticed Marcus taking up the single lounger to the left of us. "The human can speak for herself." I muttered.

"The human is right, Master Salvatore."

I shifted my gaze back to Valentine. "I'll forget about yesterday, as long as it doesn't happen again." I shrugged, that was as much as I was allowing. I didn't like him, and he hadn't done anything to change my mind about that.

"It won't happen again." Charlemagne murmured, the black of his eyes had slowly expanded until there was only a thin, blue ring around them. "I can promise you that, mon coeur."

Valentine's eyes flickered to Charlemagne. There was a moment of palpable, heavy silence between them. "Of course. As a member of the Council, I must maintain some level of ethicality."

While I was sure that was for my benefit, I didn't quite believe it. Valentine seemed like the type of person who would do anything to get what he wanted. He'd been prepared to hurt me yesterday and had left bruises on my skin. Ethicality my ass. "You wanted to talk about our relationship yesterday." I muttered, trying to prompt the conversation along.

Valentine shifted his gaze back to me. "Yes." He said, before holding his hand up. Holden placed my messenger bag in his outstretched palm. "But first, I do believe this is yours." He held it out to me, his eyes never leaving my face as I reached for it and dragged it into my lap.

Dragging my gaze from his face slowly, I looked down at my bag. One of the straps had ripped, but there was something...off about it. Things had fallen out and Holden had probably shoved them back in, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of my head. I opened my bag and ran my hand along the items inside. "Where's my journal?" I breathed out, blinking up at Valentine.

Holden stepped around the couch, reaching into the pocket of her peacoat, to extend the worn brown leather journal that I kept my notes in. Not just my notes. My thoughts. Pieces of me. Warm, red embarrassment flooded through me as I took it from her. The cord was undone. She'd read it. Maybe they both had. The embarrassment grew into a knot in the back of my throat.

What was the point of this display? Did they want me to know that they'd done it because they could? To humiliate me for yesterday? I'd written things about Charlemagne, about my anxieties and fears, about my parents. Private things. Tears burned my eyes. "Did you find what you were looking for?" I mumbled, the words cracking apart like sugar glass in my mouth. "Fun read?"

"Interesting, to say the least." Holden murmured, offering me a small smile that did nothing to console me. "Necessary."

"Necessary?" I repeated, my voice pitching as the word broke in half. "What was necessary about reading my private thoughts?" I asked, hugging my journal against my chest.

"I believe Master Valentine was looking for a reason to punish me." Charlemagne said, his voice gentle as he raised his hand from my lower back to touch my face, his thumb brushing along my cheek to catch a stray tear.

I looked up at him, but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking at Valentine. He took another sip from his glass, red staining the inside of his mouth before he was suddenly on his feet. He moved faster than I could blink, across the room with his hand around Holden's neck. The tips of her boots dangled against the floor, scuffing the hardwood.

The world slowed down and sped up at the same time. I never actually saw him kill her. It happened too fast for my human eyes to register. But from one blink to the next, Holden's head was attached to her body and then it wasn't. Her body hit the floor, and blood spread out from the stem of her neck, surrounding the wooden feet of the loveseat.

My eyes flew up to the back of Charlemagne's head, my heart thudded against my ribs. I struggled to breathe. He brought his hand up, her head perfectly balanced on his palm—her eyes stared at me—before it rolled out of his hand and onto the couch next to Valentine. "And now you have a reason." He murmured.

Charlemagne turned to face me, his blood-splattered features were calm, and there was still blue around the pupil. He moved with human slowness, picking up his wineglass, and offering me his clean hand. My eyes shifted around in his face before dropping to his hand. My blood raced in my ears. The moment was starting to feel… less real.

I took his hand. My eyes kept drifting towards the body, even though I wanted to stop looking at it. My stomach contracted, and my food sat like a lump in the back of my throat. I let him pull me to my feet, my journal and bag falling unnoticed to the floor. He pulled me in close, reeking of fresh blood, and tucked my head against his coat pocket.

I shut my eyes before the floor slipped away underneath me. When I opened them again, we were standing in his room. Swallowing bile, I pushed away from him, stumbling again on those stupid wedges. He caught me before I could hit the floor and steadied me. I yanked myself out of his hold again, putting enough distance between us until the wall was against my back.

Without looking away from him, I reached down to pull one sandal off and then the other. In case you have to run, a voice echoed through me. "Why did you do that?" I breathed out, trying not to blink.

Charlemagne watched me, his features unreadable. Alien. You can't love a lion into a housecat. He took a slow step forward, smooth, predatory grace in every movement. "I would kill anyone who hurts you, Abigail." He said softly, appearing less than a foot from me to place his glass down on the nightstand.

I flinched at the sudden movement, my heart slamming into my ribs. "Charley." His name was like air in my mouth, leaving me breathless, as I dug my shoulders into the wall.

"You're scared of me."

"You scared me."

Charlemagne tilted his head at me. "Non, that was nothing. If you want me to scare you, I will." He said, taking another slow step towards me. "Sometimes you make me forget what I am, but I can show you." He murmured, crossing the last bit of distance between us until he was standing less than an inch from me, forcing me to crane my neck back to look at his face. "Do you know what I thought the first moment that I laid eyes on you?"

My breath hitched as I shook my head. "What?" I asked, my heart so loud it threatened to drown out everything else. "What did you think?"

"Here I am, so sad, so forlorn, and the universe deigns to send me such a pretty, little snack." Charlemagne murmured, bending his head to brush his nose along my cheek. "I just wanted to eat you up." He sighed.

My fingers curled in his blazer, and I bared my teeth. "Bite me." I snapped. Which is a dumb thing to say to someone who really, really wants to bite you.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his body, and into mine. "That's my girl." he sighed, dipping his head to slip his mouth along my neck. His tongue slid along my pulse.

Shutting my eyes, heat pooled in my stomach. Would he really bite me? What would it feel like if he did? If he wanted to scare me, he had. And on the heel of that thought came a blush of anger that burned away the anxiety and lust getting all tangled up inside me. I lifted my hand without thinking and slapped him hard across the face.

Charlemagne's head snapped to the side and when he brought his face towards me again, his eyes were black. Inhuman. Fear tightened around my chest, compressed my lungs. "I'm—" He slammed his mouth into mine, the kiss scorching me all the way down to my toes.

He kissed me deeply, his mouth tasting of blood and the citrus flavor of the wine. Whimpering, I slipped my fingers into his hair, anchoring him to me as the taste of him drove out any coherent thought or common sense. He reached for the back of my thighs, dragging my feet up from the floor to wrap my legs around his waist.

My stomach dipped as he pressed his straining erection against the apex of my thighs. The friction of his trousers rubbing against me made my toes curl. He'd killed someone for me and he'd scared me and I wanted him more than anything.

He ran one of his hands up the length of my body to curl his fingers in my hair, tilting my head back to kiss my chin and along my jawline. "Say yes." Charlemagne murmured. "Say yes, say yes, say yes."

My lips parted as he rubbed against me, sending tremors along my inner thighs. I wanted to say yes. Lids fluttering open, I wanted to see his face. The word was on the tip of my tongue, but all I saw was the blood splattered along his cheek, into his hair, coating the same hand he was touching me with.

"No." I breathed out, tension wrapping its fingers around my chest. "No, I can't—"

He was suddenly standing across the room with his back against the wall. My legs trembled beneath me as we stared at each other. Swallowing, I dropped my head back against the wall. "I think I should go home." I said softly.

His eyes flashed. They were no longer fully black, but they weren't blue either. "Because of the dhampir?" Charlemagne bit out, mirroring me when he dropped his head back against the wall.

"You lied to me." I mumbled, slipping my arms around myself as I studied him. "When I asked you about your reputation yesterday. You lied."

His jaw tightened, his gaze steady on mine. "There are secrets I must be allowed to have." He murmured. "Things I am not ready to admit to you."

My stomach tightened into a knot. Bianca's voice slithered through my head again. The warnings from Valentine and Holden. What kind of monster are you, really? I swept my gaze over him, trying to figure out how well I really knew him. When every story is told from one side, what's the truth? Had my instincts been that far off?

"I think I should go home." I repeated softly, digging my closed fists into my ribs, needing the pressure just to stay upright and functioning. "I need to go home."

"And if I refuse?"

I blinked at him. "I wasn't asking permission." I said, taking my first unsteady step away from the wall. "I'm going home. I need to think."

Charlemagne cocked his head. "What is there to think about?" He appeared in front of me again, a foot of space between us. "Is it so terrible to want to preserve how you see me?" He shook his head. "You've always known there were things I didn't talk about. Things I can't."

"I know." I mumbled, my shoulders dropping. "I didn't want to push. I didn't want to lose you." My throat tightened. "But when are you going to start trusting me?" I asked, meeting his gaze. "You didn't even warn me— it just makes me look like an idiot."

His brows bent as he shook his head again. "That was and is never my intention, Abigail." Charlemagne's features softened, but his eyes remained dark. "It is my issue, ma cherie. If you knew all the things I've done, you might never allow me to touch you again."

I took a step forward to close some of the distance between us and tilted my head back. "Charley, you're a vampire. You have fangs and you drink blood, and you do a million small things every single day that remind me of what you are. Even if you forget, I don't." Not all the time. "Well, I try not to." I softened my tone. "If this is going to work, you have to give me something. You have to let me make that decision for myself. Anything less would be a lie."

Charlemagne bent forward until our brows were touching. I didn't move away. My fingers curled around his lapels to keep him near. "Can I have some time, mon coeur?"

I shut my eyes. It wasn't the answer I wanted. It wasn't an answer or a conceit at all, but he'd given me time when I'd asked for it. The only difference was my time was less infinite. Ephemeral and fleeting. Time could mean anything to someone who didn't have to count every second, or minute.

I swallowed hard. "Take as long as you need." I murmured because that was the fair thing to say. But my heart was afraid. I'd given him so much power. Sniffing, I shifted my head to kiss his mouth.

"Don't do that." Charlemagne said softly, catching my mouth before I could pull away. "Don't say goodbye to me, Abigail."

Don't make me wait forever. I swallowed the words down with a mouthful of tears. I didn't know what else to say, so I didn't say anything. I left.