Destined for an Early Grave (Page 32)

"I’m sorry about the other night," I started. "I’ve developed a huge crush on you, but I thought it was silly because, because you couldn’t possibly be interested in me. So, when you kissed me, then you said…well, you know what you said, I was so blown away I thought…it couldn’t be real, because I could never be so lucky."

In forming my mental apology, I’d thought it would go over better if I outed myself over my crush, no matter how embarrassing that was. And it was true. I didn’t know why Gregor would want me when there were tons of pretty, gorgeous women who’d be happy to have him. If not for his temper, I’d think he was perfect.

"Come closer."

I breathed a sigh of relief that he didn’t sound mad anymore and came toward him, stopping about a foot away.

"Closer."

I advanced until my knees brushed his legs.

"Closer."

It was a purred directive while his eyes started to change. The gray in them gave way to swirls of emerald.

I laid my hands on his shoulders, beginning to tremble. His legs opened, and I stood between them.

"Kiss me."

Nervous about that, but afraid to refuse, I laid my lips on his, wondering if I was even doing it right.

His mouth opened, and his hands came to life. They pressed me to him even as his tongue delved past my closed lips. All the sudden, I was lying on him, the chair tilting backward and Gregor kissing me like my mouth possessed hidden treasures.

I liked kissing Gregor, even though it was overpowering. What had me grunting in protest was him lifting me with one powerful hand and then the mattress flattening against my back.

"Gregor, wait."

It was gasped when his mouth moved to my throat. Cool air fell on my legs, with my dress being shifted up.

Whoa. I’d meant to apologize and be on good speaking terms – maybe even do some kissing – but this wasn’t what I intended.

"What did you say?"

He almost snapped the question, pausing as he unzipped my dress. I was trembling at the sight of fangs protruding from his mouth. I’d only seen his fangs once before, on my grandparents’ porch the night we met and he’d proved that he was a vampire. His fangs scared me, but they also gave me an idea.

"I want you to bite me," I improvised, my heart pounding in fear of that, too, but I needed an alternative and fast. One that wouldn’t throw him into a livid tirade. "Drink from me."

Gregor stared at me. Then he smiled. "Oui. Tonight, the blood from your body, and tomorrow, the blood of your innocence."

Oh God. What had I just done?

Gregor sat up and pulled me along with him. His hand swept aside my hair as he tugged the collar of my dress down.

Everything inside me braced. How bad would it would be?

"You’re afraid," he murmured. His tongue swirling around my throat made me jump back. His grip tightened to welded steel. "Twill sweeten your taste."

I started to say something – and then it only came out as a cry. Fangs pierced me, and I literally felt my blood exploding out from my skin. Gregor sucked, sending a sliver of pain through me, but smothering that was the heat that broke over me. He sucked harder, increasing the dizziness that had taken hold, and I gave myself up to the blackness waiting for me.

Chapter Fifteen

YOU’RE AWAKE."

My eyes blinked open to see Cannelle bending over me. She straightened and pointed to a nearby tray.

"Here. Food and an iron pill. You’ll need both. You only have a few hours until sundown."

"What?"

That sat me all the way up. A cattle prod would’ve had the same effect. Even as her words registered, dizziness swept over me. Cannelle watched with no sympathy.

"He drank a lot from you," she said, before muttering something under her breath in French.

Even though I still wasn’t proficient, I caught the words for "skinny" and "goat."

"What’s up, Cannelle?" I asked, not in a good mood at all. "Don’t you know it’s rude to insult someone in a different language so they can’t answer back?"

She put the tray onto the bed, making the tea slosh with her lack of care. "I said I don’t know why he’d take so much nourishment from a scrawny little goat," she summarized bluntly. "Now, I suggest you eat. Gregor won’t be pleased if you’re unable to do more than bleed underneath him."

I blanched at this graphic analogy, seized with apprehension and clueless how to extricate myself. Gregor wasn’t the type to take an "I’ve changed my mind" lightly.

And so that left me with the other alternative: going through with it. Maybe it was the better option, my anxiety aside. Gregor wouldn’t get mad, I wouldn’t be sent away, and according to him, I’d have no pregnancy or disease worries. Yes, I would have preferred to wait longer, much longer, before taking such a step, but apparently, my time was up.

"Cannelle." I lowered my voice, gesturing for her to come nearer. She did, her expression quizzical. "I was wondering if you could tell me, ah, what to expect."

I had no one else to ask. What was I going to do, call my mother and ask that? Hardly. I’d never had girlfriends, and the things I’d overheard at school wouldn’t help now. Sure, I knew what went where. But details on sex with a vampire? Nope.

"What to expect?" she repeated. I gestured for her to keep her voice down, but she ignored that. "Expect to be f**ked, you simple little twit!"

Even in my extreme embarrassment, I had a flash of insight. "Gregor told me you’ve been with him for sixty years. Says he gives you his blood to keep you young, but you’re hanging on for the big promotion, aren’t you? You want to be a vampire, and you hate me because you know if I asked him, he’d change me into one. And he hasn’t offered the same to you."

Her sky blue eyes narrowed. She bent down with an ugly little smile on her lips.

"You know what you can expect, your first time?" Now her voice was soft. Almost inaudible. "A lot of pain. Bon appetit."

She left. I stared at the tray of food without the slightest twinge of hunger before pushing it away.

The knock came two hours later. It wasn’t at my bedroom door, where I’d been watching the clock like an inmate awaiting sentencing. It was at the front door of the house.

Gregor opened it while I peeked downstairs. We didn’t get any visitors. The fact that no fewer than six people entered made me come all the way down the hall. They were talking in French at a speed that made it unintelligible for me.

"Merde!" Gregor swore, and then a string of other words followed that might also have been curses. "Tonight? If he thinks to steal her, he’s greatly underestimated me. Catherine. Come down at once!"