Beloved Forever by Kit Tunstall

could devise a means of escape, she would have enough money to get home.
    A knock at the door had her jumping up and shoving the pack under the bed. The comforter dangled over long enough to obscure the shadowed recess under the bed. She probably had no need to hide the pack since he returned it to her, but went with her instincts. “Yes?”
    The key turned in the lock and Tremont entered. “The master is ready for you.”
    She held up a finger. “Let me put on my shoes.”
    He watched impassively as she laced the boots, and then slipped them on her feet. “A perfect fit.” The thought was disturbing. What else did he know about her? She tied the strings and stood up, trying to push the disquieting thought from her mind. She would need all of her faculties to confront Nicholas again. “I guess I’m ready,” she said with a sick smile.
    His expression remained bland as he beckoned her forward. He stepped aside to allow her passage, before following. Once outside the room, he took the lead.
    Emily’s eyes scanned the long hall. The décor was black and red, like her room. She saw no deviation of color at all, not even in the wallpaper, which was matte black with tiny red diamonds forming a border at eye-level. Several closed red doors marked their passage, but they gave no hint to what lay behind them.
    The same color scheme made up the living room when they left the hallway. Nicholas was sprawled across a vermilion leather sofa that appeared to be floating in a sea of black. Only the electronic equipment in the black lacquered entertainment center deviated from the red and black scheme.
    He held an opaque goblet in his hand, and he set it on a chrome coaster on the black table before standing. “Emily.” His voice emerged as a silky purr. “That color is ravishing on you.”
    She reflexively pulled at the dipping neckline as his eyes settled there, wishing she had worn something else. Even a turtleneck wouldn’t make her feel more secure, though it would cover the vein throbbing sluggishly in her throat. His dark eyes would still make her feel stripped bare.
    “Are you hungry?” He handed the goblet to Tremont and waved him away.
    She shuddered, dreading the prospect of feeding from him again. She was more afraid of her own reaction than taking his blood. However, she could feel the hunger building again. It wasn’t as sharp and painful as last night, but she wanted to eat. “Yes.”
    He nodded. “Come with me.” He held out his hand.
    She frowned and slowly took it, wondering where he planned to feed her. Any place was preferable to a bed. It would make temptation easier to withstand.
    Nicholas led her into the kitchen, and she blinked. The color scheme shifted from red and black to white on white. The sudden change hurt her eyes, and she lifted a hand to block them.
    “Blinding, isn’t it?” He sounded cheerful. “Tremont insisted on being able to see what he was doing in the kitchen.”
    “Oh.” She eased away her hand, and her eyes didn’t protest as much, although the bright color still seemed to drill into her brain.
    “Your eyes are more sensitive now,” he said, leading her through the swinging door at the end of the long, narrow kitchen and into the dining room. The colors were once again black and red. “Black and red are the easiest colors to tolerate, though not the most impressive decorating scheme.”
    “I wondered about that. I thought you had an extreme fondness for the colors.”
    He nodded. “I do like both. Black is the color of death, and red is the color of life. A complimentary pairing, but I’ve grown bored with it after eight hundred years.”
    The blasé reminder of how old he claimed to be caused the breath to stick in her throat as she slid into the chair he held for her. She wanted to doubt his sanity, but couldn’t after last night. If she was a vampire—and she had to be after surviving the bullet in her brain—he must certainly be so. Even her dreams confirmed