Her Devoted Vampire by Siobhan Muir Page B

thoughtfully. “What does love smell like? And are
you certain that’s what I’m feeling?”
    Cynthia
snorted. “It’s obvious, Fredrick. You only get this twitchy when you’re
concerned about someone you care for. And love smells like…” She stopped and
sniffed deeply then her eyes opened wide. “Whoa. You smell like her . Did you mate with her?”
    “No!” he
barked and snapped his mouth closed around the desperation in his voice. “No, I
just proved to her the connection between Goddess-blessed and Goddess-born.”
    “That’s
one heck of a connection if you smell like her,” Cynthia said   with a grin. “And that’s what love smells like. Your scent blends with that of your
mate. Good for you, Fredrick. Does she love you, too?”
    Fredrick
sighed roughly. “I have no idea. I didn’t ask. She has enough to worry about
right now.”
    Cynthia
gave a scoffing growl. “No one has too much to think about to know if they love
someone. Why didn’t you didn’t ask her?”
    “I
didn’t want to push.” He shrugged and dragged a finger over the granite. “But I
don’t really need her to love me. It’s
possible to love someone without that person loving you back. Look at Szilvia.”
    “Keep your
chin up.” She grasped his hand. “Your relationship didn’t start out well, but
other than holding her hostage under the pretense of protection, you haven’t
really done anything to hurt her.”
    He wore chagrin
like a coat. “Well…”
    “You
hurt her, too?”
    “Not
purposely.” He hated the defensive note in his voice. “I was holding her arm
when she jerked away.”
    Cynthia’s
eyebrows hit her hairline, but she said nothing as she watched him squirm.
    “And it’s
not a pretense. She’s still in danger. I just don’t know how.” He desperately
looked for something else to talk about and his gaze landed on her book. “What
are you reading? It looks like Tolstoy’s War
and Peace .”
    “Close. It’s
C. S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia collected
in one book.”
    Fredrick
smirked. “A werewolf reading The
Chronicles of Narnia ?”
    “Hey,
it’s a great set of stories, and who says there are no dragons just because you
haven’t seen one? Bridget had never seen a vampire, but here you are making fun
of me.”
    He
wanted to stick his tongue out at her, but he told himself he was too dignified
for such behavior. “Where’s Szilvia?”
    “I don’t
know. I think she went out for a bite, but I haven’t seen her for a while. Why?”
    “I
wanted to clarify some business opportunities that have come up with her—”
    Sharp
fear streaked up his back, cutting him off, and his heart damn near stopped.
His heart thundered, and he braced for evasive action, hissing as he bared his
canines. Cynthia reacted to his aggressive grimace with a low growl and pushed
herself off the stool like mercury.
    Fredrick
searched the shadows of the kitchen for danger, but when he only found calm, he
realized the panic had an outside source. His connection to Bridget shrieked
with warning and terrified fury, and he launched himself for the door even
before his hearing picked up the screaming.
    Something
had attacked Bridget on his own grounds.
     
     

 
    Chapter Seven
     
    Bridget
stood still for a moment outside the door to the big house, inhaling the brisk
air. Winter had arrived despite the date on the calendar. She smelled the
changes in the ground, of plants and animals settling in for the cold season. She
shivered with unease.
    God. She stopped herself
and guiltily looked over her shoulder. Goddess,
is this because I touched Fredrick’s chest?
    She’d always
recognized the change between summer and autumn, with the cold wet smells of
fallen sun baked leaves, but she’d never been able to tell when autumn bowed to
winter’s rule.
    Damn, now I’m waxing poetic.
    She
wrapped her arms around her and picked her way over the damp ground toward the
river, retracing the steps she’d taken when she tried to