rolled her eyes when she realized Bron had no plans to
leave. An awkward silence descended the table. She cut a slice of bread to
occupy her hands.
“How is it you are able to eat?” Bron asked after a moment.
Dalia made a sound of impatience. “Vampires are not dead.
When we’re turned, we die yes, but we're brought back to life. We still have to
eat to sustain our body. The blood is to keep our organs functioning. It allows
our heart to function same as yours.”
“Huh, I didn’t know that.”
“Well, despite the fact that you're following me around willy nilly, there are plenty of things you don’t know about
me."
"You consider yourself vampire?" His tone was curious, sincere.
"I consume blood, can't go out in the daytime," she snapped holding
up a finger for each point she made. "Oh and a vampire converted me, soo
yes, I think I qualify as a vampire."
BRON NODDED. She fidgeted, her
movements, jerky, aggravated. She was angry and the sparks that lit her eyes only
made her more beautiful. Bron wanted to lean over and kiss the stubborn line of
her mouth until she melted against him. He asked her the question that burned
through his mind since he met her.
“Did you choose to become what you are?”
She stiffened and turned her head. “Why are so interested in
vampires?”
Bron quickly deduced that subject was not up for discussion.
“I'm not so much interested in vampires as I’m interested in you.”
Her eyes betrayed her for only a moment, but he saw that
flare of interest. She was wary of him, and he could understand that.
“Don’t be.” She ordered.
Bron chuckled at her defiance. “Yes,
ma’am.”
Dalia’s lips twitched in amusement. “You said
when we met you could tell what I was.”
Bron nodded at her unspoken question. “Your
tattoos.”
“What about the tattoos?”
Knowledge lay in her eyes. She knew the tattoos marked her for what she was. He
raised an eyebrow. He would play her game for now.
“The tattoos are ancient symbols of the wind, our goddess’s way of marking and
warning the tribe."
“Are you searching for vampires like me?” Suspicion darkened her eyes, turning
the whiskey depths deep brown.
“Not vampires, Ajo, and we hunt them.” It occurred to him once the words
were out of his mouth that it could've been said in a better way. She flinched,
and he forced his beast down as she stood feet apart, fist clenched at her
sides. Her anger filled the room.
“What do you mean hunt?”
Bron didn't answer.
Her anger spiked.
He grabbed her hand a second before it could connect with
his face.
“Calm down, Dalia. I didn't come to hurt you.” His voice was
calm but his body heated, turned on by her. She was beautiful in her
anger.
Dalia fought against his hold. Panic, arousal both swirled
in her eyes, and warmed her skin under his hand.
Weak
He pulled the unspoken word from her thoughts. “You’re not
weak, Dalia. Whatever is going on between us does not make you weak in any
way.”
She hissed at him and he loosened his grip, allowing her to
snatch her hand away.
"Great, you read minds too." Contempt dripped from
her voice as she stepped around him.
Damn it, would she always run from him?
“Dalia, wait,” Bron called catching up to her and grabbing
her shoulder. She shrugged him off and he followed her out the door to another
building behind the house. He made another attempt to detain her, but she
ignored him and tried to close the door. She cursed when she saw his foot
blocking it.
“Leave me alone." She struggled for a few moments
before giving up and turning her back to him. “I don’t want you here.”
Again, Bron ignored her, stepping into her room. He scanned
the room taking in the sparse furniture. Her scent permeated the small space,
and a sharp stab of longing took
leave. An awkward silence descended the table. She cut a slice of bread to
occupy her hands.
“How is it you are able to eat?” Bron asked after a moment.
Dalia made a sound of impatience. “Vampires are not dead.
When we’re turned, we die yes, but we're brought back to life. We still have to
eat to sustain our body. The blood is to keep our organs functioning. It allows
our heart to function same as yours.”
“Huh, I didn’t know that.”
“Well, despite the fact that you're following me around willy nilly, there are plenty of things you don’t know about
me."
"You consider yourself vampire?" His tone was curious, sincere.
"I consume blood, can't go out in the daytime," she snapped holding
up a finger for each point she made. "Oh and a vampire converted me, soo
yes, I think I qualify as a vampire."
BRON NODDED. She fidgeted, her
movements, jerky, aggravated. She was angry and the sparks that lit her eyes only
made her more beautiful. Bron wanted to lean over and kiss the stubborn line of
her mouth until she melted against him. He asked her the question that burned
through his mind since he met her.
“Did you choose to become what you are?”
She stiffened and turned her head. “Why are so interested in
vampires?”
Bron quickly deduced that subject was not up for discussion.
“I'm not so much interested in vampires as I’m interested in you.”
Her eyes betrayed her for only a moment, but he saw that
flare of interest. She was wary of him, and he could understand that.
“Don’t be.” She ordered.
Bron chuckled at her defiance. “Yes,
ma’am.”
Dalia’s lips twitched in amusement. “You said
when we met you could tell what I was.”
Bron nodded at her unspoken question. “Your
tattoos.”
“What about the tattoos?”
Knowledge lay in her eyes. She knew the tattoos marked her for what she was. He
raised an eyebrow. He would play her game for now.
“The tattoos are ancient symbols of the wind, our goddess’s way of marking and
warning the tribe."
“Are you searching for vampires like me?” Suspicion darkened her eyes, turning
the whiskey depths deep brown.
“Not vampires, Ajo, and we hunt them.” It occurred to him once the words
were out of his mouth that it could've been said in a better way. She flinched,
and he forced his beast down as she stood feet apart, fist clenched at her
sides. Her anger filled the room.
“What do you mean hunt?”
Bron didn't answer.
Her anger spiked.
He grabbed her hand a second before it could connect with
his face.
“Calm down, Dalia. I didn't come to hurt you.” His voice was
calm but his body heated, turned on by her. She was beautiful in her
anger.
Dalia fought against his hold. Panic, arousal both swirled
in her eyes, and warmed her skin under his hand.
Weak
He pulled the unspoken word from her thoughts. “You’re not
weak, Dalia. Whatever is going on between us does not make you weak in any
way.”
She hissed at him and he loosened his grip, allowing her to
snatch her hand away.
"Great, you read minds too." Contempt dripped from
her voice as she stepped around him.
Damn it, would she always run from him?
“Dalia, wait,” Bron called catching up to her and grabbing
her shoulder. She shrugged him off and he followed her out the door to another
building behind the house. He made another attempt to detain her, but she
ignored him and tried to close the door. She cursed when she saw his foot
blocking it.
“Leave me alone." She struggled for a few moments
before giving up and turning her back to him. “I don’t want you here.”
Again, Bron ignored her, stepping into her room. He scanned
the room taking in the sparse furniture. Her scent permeated the small space,
and a sharp stab of longing took
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