yourself that they are brown.”
How the hell had she guessed? He routinely hid his yellow eyes behind contact lenses. Disguised as Lovac, his were brown and he wore glasses.
He aimed for a casual tone. In order to convey emotion, he always had to determine the sentiment before he spoke. “What does my eye color have to do with anything?”
“Your codex is called, The Book of the Day .”
That got his attention. A title. “Tell me more.”
“That’s all you get.”
“Our agreement was that you would share your translation when you saw my artifacts.”
“I’ve changed my mind. There’s something you’re not telling me, and the translation is my leverage. Don’t bother looking for it, by the way. It’s not on my computer or written down anywhere in my belongings.” She tapped her temple with her index finger.
“I wouldn’t dream of intruding on your privacy.”
Damn, she was either incredibly suspicious or she saw right through him. Being seen was a curious prospect—highly unlikely, but strangely appealing.
“Of course you wouldn’t intrude. I’m simply taking every precaution. Will you show me to where I’ll be staying?”
“Certainly. Are you hungry? I can order in dinner.”
“Please. Chinese?”
“Fine. I know a decent place. What dishes do you like?”
“Oh, I’ll eat anything. The spicier the better.” She prattled off the names of her favorite dishes, and he struggled to understand them with her lilting accent.
Charming that she could switch from shrewd to chatty on a dime. She was more and more intriguing. Only Zoey had been more of an enigma.
“I just need to phone my brother, then I’ll place the order.”
Lucas Bennett awoke with a heart-pounding jolt. Where was he?
His arms slid across soft sheets, good cotton with a four-figure thread count. Bare ivory walls begged for adornment behind an antique desk with a Tiffany lamp. The bed’s rustic and clunky frame was right out of the Restoration Hardware catalog, if they had a Croatian edition.
Right. After almost a week staying at the Kaštel Estate Winery, it was still a shock to wake up there. Although he wasn’t technically a prisoner, the charming place had become his holding cell. The vampires didn’t trust him, and he didn’t know what to do with himself since he’d disavowed the Hunters. Only those same damn Hunters knew what to do with him—they wanted him dead.
A tangle of feelings about Pedro sat heavy in his gut, making him queasy and lethargic. Sympathy, guilt, sorrow, bone deep attraction—he could pick at the knot all day long and fail to unravel one thread. He hadn’t even seen the guy for a week—seven days spent failing to cool his heels. It was a shitty existence, living out of a duffel bag, and only leaving his room to eat. But it wasn’t like he had anything else to do, or any place else to be. Not unless he had a death wish.
Maras’s household treated him with surprising kindness. Rescuing Pedro had made his Hunter origins forgivable. Thing was, a week in a vampire household had been a course in desensitization therapy. With all the mundane details, the humanity of everyone at Kaštel, both human and vampire, he’d found he had no hate left for the creatures. In fact, he missed Pedro something wicked…Pedro, who surely hated him…
His absence was proof.
The muffled ring of his phone sounded, and he followed it to a pair of pants, vibrating where they hung over the desk chair. An unctuous feeling slithered over his skin even before he looked at the screen. The name on the phone confirmed his intuition—Ethan. He hadn’t spoken to his brother since he knocked him unconscious to rescue Pedro from Ethan’s fun-with-tools torture session. Well, this should be interesting.
He answered the call.
“Lucas,” Ethan said.
“Don’t worry. I know the consequences for what I did. We have nothing to talk about.”
“Is he alive?”
“What?”
“Your friend, Pedro—is he
How the hell had she guessed? He routinely hid his yellow eyes behind contact lenses. Disguised as Lovac, his were brown and he wore glasses.
He aimed for a casual tone. In order to convey emotion, he always had to determine the sentiment before he spoke. “What does my eye color have to do with anything?”
“Your codex is called, The Book of the Day .”
That got his attention. A title. “Tell me more.”
“That’s all you get.”
“Our agreement was that you would share your translation when you saw my artifacts.”
“I’ve changed my mind. There’s something you’re not telling me, and the translation is my leverage. Don’t bother looking for it, by the way. It’s not on my computer or written down anywhere in my belongings.” She tapped her temple with her index finger.
“I wouldn’t dream of intruding on your privacy.”
Damn, she was either incredibly suspicious or she saw right through him. Being seen was a curious prospect—highly unlikely, but strangely appealing.
“Of course you wouldn’t intrude. I’m simply taking every precaution. Will you show me to where I’ll be staying?”
“Certainly. Are you hungry? I can order in dinner.”
“Please. Chinese?”
“Fine. I know a decent place. What dishes do you like?”
“Oh, I’ll eat anything. The spicier the better.” She prattled off the names of her favorite dishes, and he struggled to understand them with her lilting accent.
Charming that she could switch from shrewd to chatty on a dime. She was more and more intriguing. Only Zoey had been more of an enigma.
“I just need to phone my brother, then I’ll place the order.”
Lucas Bennett awoke with a heart-pounding jolt. Where was he?
His arms slid across soft sheets, good cotton with a four-figure thread count. Bare ivory walls begged for adornment behind an antique desk with a Tiffany lamp. The bed’s rustic and clunky frame was right out of the Restoration Hardware catalog, if they had a Croatian edition.
Right. After almost a week staying at the Kaštel Estate Winery, it was still a shock to wake up there. Although he wasn’t technically a prisoner, the charming place had become his holding cell. The vampires didn’t trust him, and he didn’t know what to do with himself since he’d disavowed the Hunters. Only those same damn Hunters knew what to do with him—they wanted him dead.
A tangle of feelings about Pedro sat heavy in his gut, making him queasy and lethargic. Sympathy, guilt, sorrow, bone deep attraction—he could pick at the knot all day long and fail to unravel one thread. He hadn’t even seen the guy for a week—seven days spent failing to cool his heels. It was a shitty existence, living out of a duffel bag, and only leaving his room to eat. But it wasn’t like he had anything else to do, or any place else to be. Not unless he had a death wish.
Maras’s household treated him with surprising kindness. Rescuing Pedro had made his Hunter origins forgivable. Thing was, a week in a vampire household had been a course in desensitization therapy. With all the mundane details, the humanity of everyone at Kaštel, both human and vampire, he’d found he had no hate left for the creatures. In fact, he missed Pedro something wicked…Pedro, who surely hated him…
His absence was proof.
The muffled ring of his phone sounded, and he followed it to a pair of pants, vibrating where they hung over the desk chair. An unctuous feeling slithered over his skin even before he looked at the screen. The name on the phone confirmed his intuition—Ethan. He hadn’t spoken to his brother since he knocked him unconscious to rescue Pedro from Ethan’s fun-with-tools torture session. Well, this should be interesting.
He answered the call.
“Lucas,” Ethan said.
“Don’t worry. I know the consequences for what I did. We have nothing to talk about.”
“Is he alive?”
“What?”
“Your friend, Pedro—is he
Similar Books
