happens after we save the world.”
He had his pants pulled up to his waist, but stopped before zipping them up. He walked over to her and cupped his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t pretend this is going to be easy. I’ll help you as much as I can, but nothing about this is easy.”
She buried her face against his chiseled chest for a moment before pulling back and offering up a wobbly smile. “It is easier, knowing I hadn’t killed you. It’s the rest of my life I have to come to terms with first.”
He cocked his head and studied her for a long moment before he let out a sigh. “Go on, get dressed. I’ll order you some food.”
Bryna shuffled into the bathroom. How was she going to manage to pull herself out of this tailspin she had no idea, but as much as she didn’t think it would work, she was going to try, for Vincent’s sake. She took her time pulling herself together before she went back out into the room. Vincent was sitting on the bed, and she sat next to him.
He winked at her before he shifted her behind him on the bed. “Stay here. We have visitors. I hope you still like General Tso’s Chicken.”
“Only with chicken fried rice,” she said hopefully. The General Tso’s hadn’t been her favorite; it had been his. She still liked it, as long as she got a pork eggroll, chicken fried rice, and the fortune cookie to go with it.
He cringed and gave her an apologetic look as he opened the door. “Sorry, sunshine.”
The man who walked into the room snorted. His eyes found her, and the creepiest bolt of déjà vu hit her. Her skin crawled, and pain sliced through her wrist. She tucked it back behind her in defense and glared at the intruding man as if it would send him away. “Who is he?”
The man handed Vincent the bag of food. He was shaking his head as if he’d been struck with the same thing.
Vincent carried the food over to the bed and sat on it. “This is Derrick. You’ve met him before. I will explain once everyone is here.”
She eyed the dangerous-looking man and scooted away from him. Hunger growled in her belly, and she grudgingly went to the bag. She opened it up to find her perfect order of Chinese food. A huge bucket of chicken fried rice, two pork eggrolls, and four fortune cookies. She beamed up at Vincent. “You remembered!”
“Amazing, but yeah,” he said with a grin. “After two hundred years, the details do get a little fuzzy.”
She did her best imitation of his man growl and set to work getting her food out. She was starving. The last thing she ate was half a pickle and a slice of American cheese sixteen hours ago. “Ten years. I can agree it’s felt like two hundred.”
“Dollface is in rare form tonight, I see,” another large male said.
She glared at him as déjà vu hit again, only this time she screamed, almost lost her perfect dinner, and shot to the corner of the room. “Who the hell are you?”
“Gregori,” he announced as if she would know. Before she could recover from that one, the last man walked in and Vincent closed the door. “And our middle brother, Caleb,” Gregori said. Another round of déjà vu hit. Her skin crawled again.
“You know, Vincent,” she said in a tone close to a whimper. “Your friends seem really nice, but they’re freaking me out.”
Vincent moved his massive warrior’s body between her and the other men who were sprawling out in the room. He sat down on the bed next to her. “I know. I want you to eat before I shock you anymore.”
She started to protest. What could possibly be more shocking than finding her dead boyfriend walking around and visiting his own grave? She would have said it, but he spooned fried rice into her mouth when she opened it.
Heaven.
Vincent never did like how much she ate. He spent a considerable amount of time feeding her when he’d been alive. She grinned at him and the other men were almost forgotten—almost. The one with a ponytail propped up against the door—Gregori, she
He had his pants pulled up to his waist, but stopped before zipping them up. He walked over to her and cupped his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t pretend this is going to be easy. I’ll help you as much as I can, but nothing about this is easy.”
She buried her face against his chiseled chest for a moment before pulling back and offering up a wobbly smile. “It is easier, knowing I hadn’t killed you. It’s the rest of my life I have to come to terms with first.”
He cocked his head and studied her for a long moment before he let out a sigh. “Go on, get dressed. I’ll order you some food.”
Bryna shuffled into the bathroom. How was she going to manage to pull herself out of this tailspin she had no idea, but as much as she didn’t think it would work, she was going to try, for Vincent’s sake. She took her time pulling herself together before she went back out into the room. Vincent was sitting on the bed, and she sat next to him.
He winked at her before he shifted her behind him on the bed. “Stay here. We have visitors. I hope you still like General Tso’s Chicken.”
“Only with chicken fried rice,” she said hopefully. The General Tso’s hadn’t been her favorite; it had been his. She still liked it, as long as she got a pork eggroll, chicken fried rice, and the fortune cookie to go with it.
He cringed and gave her an apologetic look as he opened the door. “Sorry, sunshine.”
The man who walked into the room snorted. His eyes found her, and the creepiest bolt of déjà vu hit her. Her skin crawled, and pain sliced through her wrist. She tucked it back behind her in defense and glared at the intruding man as if it would send him away. “Who is he?”
The man handed Vincent the bag of food. He was shaking his head as if he’d been struck with the same thing.
Vincent carried the food over to the bed and sat on it. “This is Derrick. You’ve met him before. I will explain once everyone is here.”
She eyed the dangerous-looking man and scooted away from him. Hunger growled in her belly, and she grudgingly went to the bag. She opened it up to find her perfect order of Chinese food. A huge bucket of chicken fried rice, two pork eggrolls, and four fortune cookies. She beamed up at Vincent. “You remembered!”
“Amazing, but yeah,” he said with a grin. “After two hundred years, the details do get a little fuzzy.”
She did her best imitation of his man growl and set to work getting her food out. She was starving. The last thing she ate was half a pickle and a slice of American cheese sixteen hours ago. “Ten years. I can agree it’s felt like two hundred.”
“Dollface is in rare form tonight, I see,” another large male said.
She glared at him as déjà vu hit again, only this time she screamed, almost lost her perfect dinner, and shot to the corner of the room. “Who the hell are you?”
“Gregori,” he announced as if she would know. Before she could recover from that one, the last man walked in and Vincent closed the door. “And our middle brother, Caleb,” Gregori said. Another round of déjà vu hit. Her skin crawled again.
“You know, Vincent,” she said in a tone close to a whimper. “Your friends seem really nice, but they’re freaking me out.”
Vincent moved his massive warrior’s body between her and the other men who were sprawling out in the room. He sat down on the bed next to her. “I know. I want you to eat before I shock you anymore.”
She started to protest. What could possibly be more shocking than finding her dead boyfriend walking around and visiting his own grave? She would have said it, but he spooned fried rice into her mouth when she opened it.
Heaven.
Vincent never did like how much she ate. He spent a considerable amount of time feeding her when he’d been alive. She grinned at him and the other men were almost forgotten—almost. The one with a ponytail propped up against the door—Gregori, she
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