all.
Frustrated, she headed back toward the desk. No way she was leaving the room now, not with him right outside the door.
She was just about to give in to temptation and call Gunnolf when her phone rang. She snatched it up, saw that it was Orion, and answered.
“I just heard,” he said. “Where are you?”
“Heard?”
“About—” He hesitated, and that was all she needed to know. He’d heard about Reinholt’s murder.
“Don’t say it.”
“Am I an idiot?” he retorted.
She had to smile. Richard Erasmus Orion III was her nephew, cousin, something like that. Whatever he was, it was a billion times removed. Point was, he was family. The only family she had left, for that matter.
More important, he knew what she was. And he alone knew what she’d done.
“I can’t talk right now,” she said.
“Where are you? And are you all right?”
“I’m with Tiberius.”
The silence hung long and heavy. Finally Orion cleared his throat. “So I ask again: Are you all right?”
She wanted to come up with a profound response. Something that illustrated just how
not
all right she was. But the words wouldn’t come. “Sure,” she said simply, and knew that she hadn’t fooled him when he swore softly under his breath.
“Like hell. What can I do?”
“Same as always—nothing you can do.”
“Caris—”
“No. I’m sorry, but you know it’s true. I appreciate the thought, I’m glad you’ve got my back, and all the rest of that warm, fuzzy bullshit. But ultimately it’s just me out here with my ass swinging in the air.”
“Least it’s a hot ass,” he said with a growl.
She couldn’t help her laugh. “I’m your cousin, you perv.”
“Aunt, I think, and I’m pretty sure we’ve passed the levels of consanguinity that make that sort of thing illegal.”
“Dammit, Orion, I’m trying to hang on to this pisser of a mood.”
“Go work it off,” he said. “Beat up some unsuspecting flunky or something.”
“You really do know me too well.”
She realized as she tossed the phone onto the bed that she meant it, and that the smile on her lips was genuine. Orion and Gunnolf—a human and a werewolf. The last time she stood in this room she never would have believed that the two people she depended on most in the world were so very unlike herself.
At least things were never dull.
And, yeah, she needed a workout.
She headed back to the door, expecting that Tiberius would be gone by now, surprised to find that he was still there. That scent. That heat.
Had he heard her conversation, heard her laughing?
She hoped so. She pressed her hand against the wood and hoped to hell he believed she was happy. Because she damn sure didn’t intend to let him see her pain.
But it wasn’t only her pain that filled the room like a sour stench. She sensed his as well, her senses no longer merely vampyric but something more.
She could feel it—raw emotion
. Pain and anger, but also longing. And, yes, that hint of regret. For a moment her throat tightened, and she realized she was watching the door handle, waiting for it to turn, cursing herself because she wanted it to.
And then cursing him when it didn’t.
Outside, Tiberius closed his eyes and drew back his hand. His fingers had almost closed around the brass knob. He’d almost gone in. He’d let the pull of what they’d once had overshadow the reality that lay between them.
He couldn’t do that.
He couldn’t do it back then. He couldn’t do it now.
And so he turned and walked away.
Frustrated, she headed back toward the desk. No way she was leaving the room now, not with him right outside the door.
She was just about to give in to temptation and call Gunnolf when her phone rang. She snatched it up, saw that it was Orion, and answered.
“I just heard,” he said. “Where are you?”
“Heard?”
“About—” He hesitated, and that was all she needed to know. He’d heard about Reinholt’s murder.
“Don’t say it.”
“Am I an idiot?” he retorted.
She had to smile. Richard Erasmus Orion III was her nephew, cousin, something like that. Whatever he was, it was a billion times removed. Point was, he was family. The only family she had left, for that matter.
More important, he knew what she was. And he alone knew what she’d done.
“I can’t talk right now,” she said.
“Where are you? And are you all right?”
“I’m with Tiberius.”
The silence hung long and heavy. Finally Orion cleared his throat. “So I ask again: Are you all right?”
She wanted to come up with a profound response. Something that illustrated just how
not
all right she was. But the words wouldn’t come. “Sure,” she said simply, and knew that she hadn’t fooled him when he swore softly under his breath.
“Like hell. What can I do?”
“Same as always—nothing you can do.”
“Caris—”
“No. I’m sorry, but you know it’s true. I appreciate the thought, I’m glad you’ve got my back, and all the rest of that warm, fuzzy bullshit. But ultimately it’s just me out here with my ass swinging in the air.”
“Least it’s a hot ass,” he said with a growl.
She couldn’t help her laugh. “I’m your cousin, you perv.”
“Aunt, I think, and I’m pretty sure we’ve passed the levels of consanguinity that make that sort of thing illegal.”
“Dammit, Orion, I’m trying to hang on to this pisser of a mood.”
“Go work it off,” he said. “Beat up some unsuspecting flunky or something.”
“You really do know me too well.”
She realized as she tossed the phone onto the bed that she meant it, and that the smile on her lips was genuine. Orion and Gunnolf—a human and a werewolf. The last time she stood in this room she never would have believed that the two people she depended on most in the world were so very unlike herself.
At least things were never dull.
And, yeah, she needed a workout.
She headed back to the door, expecting that Tiberius would be gone by now, surprised to find that he was still there. That scent. That heat.
Had he heard her conversation, heard her laughing?
She hoped so. She pressed her hand against the wood and hoped to hell he believed she was happy. Because she damn sure didn’t intend to let him see her pain.
But it wasn’t only her pain that filled the room like a sour stench. She sensed his as well, her senses no longer merely vampyric but something more.
She could feel it—raw emotion
. Pain and anger, but also longing. And, yes, that hint of regret. For a moment her throat tightened, and she realized she was watching the door handle, waiting for it to turn, cursing herself because she wanted it to.
And then cursing him when it didn’t.
Outside, Tiberius closed his eyes and drew back his hand. His fingers had almost closed around the brass knob. He’d almost gone in. He’d let the pull of what they’d once had overshadow the reality that lay between them.
He couldn’t do that.
He couldn’t do it back then. He couldn’t do it now.
And so he turned and walked away.
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