Immortals After Dark 12 - Lothaire

his coats, taking in his masculine scent—smooth, woodsy, with the faintest bite of evergreen ?
    Just as mesmerizing as his looks. When she found her lids growing heavy, she gave herself an inward shake, then dragged herself away from the coat.
    In an accessories drawer, he’d precisely organized sunglasses, watches, cuff links, and engraved money clips. Toward the back of the closet, she saw a number of swords laid out on a felt-lined shelf. The bottom of each sword hilt was an inch or so away from another one’s tip.
    In fact, she’d bet they were exactly one inch apart, as if he’d taken a ruler to them.
    These weapons didn’t appear to be decorative like the one she’d almost stabbed herself with this afternoon— open mind —but more like useful accessories. A timely reminder that he was a warrior, a deadly male.
    What am I doing in here? Curiosity killed the Ellie.
    And for all her searching, she’d garnered little insight to help her against Lothaire—and no new hope of escape.
    Now that the rush of breaking in had dwindled, she exhaled with fatigue, picturing her new bed. Though she worried about Saroya rising, nothing could keep her from it. Ellie hadn’t slept last night before her execution.
    Execution. Memories from the morning surfaced, but she ruthlessly tamped them down. She imagined a rubber band snapping her wrist every time she recalled that injection bench, the clock ticking, the screams. . . . Snap!
    Think forward, never dwell.
    Somehow, before Lothaire got that ring, Ellie would figure out a way to communicate with her family. Once she was assured that they were good and vanished, she’d finally get to do what needed to be done. Take care of your business, Ellie.
    She and Saroya would be no more. I can still die—just might be a few days off schedule.
    Whipped with exhaustion, Ellie turned back toward her room. Had any day ever been so grueling—
    “What in the hell are you doing in here?”

14
    T he girl’s eyes went wide as she pivoted to face Lothaire, her hair a dark wave swinging over one shoulder.
    “You picked the lock to my room? Invading my privacy?” he thundered, furious at the intrusion, furious at his reactions to her.
    When the mortal had breathed in his scent, going heavy-lidded . . . he’d barely choked back a groan as he shot hard as stone.
    Now he traced in front of her, cupping her throat. She recoiled with fear, her heart beating a staccato rhythm he could feel. “I’ve told you I won’t harm this body! Yet you flinch from me?”
    In a strangled voice, she cried, “Are you kidding ?”
    “Calm your goddamned heart!” he bellowed, his instinct to protect her—to comfort her—nearly overriding his need to punish her. Which infuriated him even more!
    He knew he should just return her to her room, then sleep—and not only to dream memories. He was strung out, his madness creeping closer at every moment.
    But his ire demanded appeasement. “You flinch like a coward. Are you one? Am I to add cowardly to all the adjectives I use to describe you?”
    “Fuck you, vampire!” She knocked his arm away—he let her. “I’m nocoward. I’ve got flint in my veins. Don’t mistake my reflexes for fear.” Her fists balled, her fear ebbing. “And you don’t get to play the privacy card! Not while your homeless tramp has set up her cardboard house inside me .”
    He reacted better to her anger, his vision clearing. Gods, the rumors were true. He was connected to his Bride’s moods, responding to them. And Elizabeth was a fragment of Saroya, like a placeholder for his female.
    Between gritted teeth, he commanded, “Calm yourself, Elizabeth.” He knew one thing that would calm them both. Release. With one bite, she’d be begging for him to ease her.
    He wondered if the other rumors about Brides were true. Will she pleasure me more deeply than I’d ever imagined?
    Wait for your true one! Saroya will be worth it.
    Elizabeth stared at his eyes. “Look at me, Lothaire. I’m calming down, okay?”
    “Then answer the question. Why are you in my room?”
    “I was curious about you.”
    “Curious to find a way to thwart my plans? And what did you discover about me that you didn’t know?”
    “A few things.”
    What? What? Anticipation teased him—because he had no clue what she’d say. He sat at his desk, impatiently waving a hand at her. “Thrall me.”
    She took a deep breath, then said, “You’re an insomniac. You speak and write at least two