covered with a set of tatami mats. Half the height of the twenty-foot-high walls was covered in gleaming wood; the remainder, up to an overhanging balcony supported by massive wooden columns, showcased an impressive collection of antique weaponry, including swords, maces, bows, axes, and wicked-looking knives.
This was a room for sparring.
It took a moment for the implication to settle in.
“You’re kidding, right?” I asked, turning to him. “You can’t actually think I’m going to fight you?”
Ethan regarded me coolly and began unbuttoning his shirt. Question answered, I thought, and averted my eyes after the first peek of toned chest.
I walked into the middle of the floor, thinking I’d feel better if I had a better grasp on my surroundings. Ethan’s arsenal was impressive—a set of crossed pikes, blue ribbons hung from their ends; a hefty broadsword; a black wooden shield bearing a golden oak tree, the acorns painted red; rows of unsheathed katanas.
“Experience?” Ethan called out behind me.
“Ballet and jogging. And whatever extra strength two days of being fanged will give me.” I made the mistake of turning around just as he was pulling the button-up shirt over his head. My mouth went dry. His shoulders were broad and perfectly sculpted, as was the rest of his torso. His chest was firm, his stomach flat and lean, dotted only by the pucker of navel and a thin line of dark blond hair that disappeared into the waist of his trousers. Around his neck was a thin gold chain, on which hung a tiny oval of gold with a design stamped into it. It looked like a saint’s medal, although I doubt any saints would have approved of a Master vampire wearing it.
Ethan caught me staring and lifted a brow, and I looked quickly away. Mallory yelled my name, waving me frantically toward where she stood at the edge of the mats. When I reached her, she shook her head at me.
“You cannot seriously think you’re going to fight this guy. He could kick your ass with one arm tied behind his back, much less with all his voluminous vampire powers. He’s probably stronger than you, faster than you. He can probably jump higher. Hell, he can probably glamour you into making out with him right there on the mats.”
We simultaneously looked over to where Ethan, half naked, was toeing off black leather loafers. The muscles in his abdomen clenched as he moved. So did the lines of corded muscle across his shoulders.
God, but he was beautiful.
I narrowed my gaze.
Beautiful but evil. Wicked. The repugnant dregs of foul malevolence. Or something.
“Jesus,” Mallory whispered. “I want to support your quest for revenge and all, but maybe you should just let him glamour you.” She looked at me, and I could tell she was trying not to laugh. “Either you’re fucked, or you’re fucked , right?’
I rolled my eyes at her. “You’re not helping.”
The shuffle of footsteps rang through the room. We looked up. Vampires were filling the balcony, all dressed in black, all throwing hateful looks at me and Mallory. As I took in their obvious disdain, the weight of the risk I’d taken settled into my bones. According to the aptly named Canon , vampire society was based on antiquated notions of feudalism, including unfailing loyalty to a House and its Master. I’d walked into my House—into Ethan’s House—spouted off, and challenged him to a fight. Twenty-seven years of trying to live under my parents’ radar, of never causing enough trouble to raise their notice, and I’d made two very big mistakes in a matter of days. Walking across campus had nearly killed me. Challenging Ethan . . . Well, we’d find out soon enough.
“Probably this wasn’t the best decision I’ve ever made,” I admitted.
“No,” Mallory agreed, but when I looked at her, her eyes shone bright with appreciation. “But it’s ballsy. And you’ve needed to make a ballsy decision.”
“Just a minute ago you said—”
“Forget it. I know what I
This was a room for sparring.
It took a moment for the implication to settle in.
“You’re kidding, right?” I asked, turning to him. “You can’t actually think I’m going to fight you?”
Ethan regarded me coolly and began unbuttoning his shirt. Question answered, I thought, and averted my eyes after the first peek of toned chest.
I walked into the middle of the floor, thinking I’d feel better if I had a better grasp on my surroundings. Ethan’s arsenal was impressive—a set of crossed pikes, blue ribbons hung from their ends; a hefty broadsword; a black wooden shield bearing a golden oak tree, the acorns painted red; rows of unsheathed katanas.
“Experience?” Ethan called out behind me.
“Ballet and jogging. And whatever extra strength two days of being fanged will give me.” I made the mistake of turning around just as he was pulling the button-up shirt over his head. My mouth went dry. His shoulders were broad and perfectly sculpted, as was the rest of his torso. His chest was firm, his stomach flat and lean, dotted only by the pucker of navel and a thin line of dark blond hair that disappeared into the waist of his trousers. Around his neck was a thin gold chain, on which hung a tiny oval of gold with a design stamped into it. It looked like a saint’s medal, although I doubt any saints would have approved of a Master vampire wearing it.
Ethan caught me staring and lifted a brow, and I looked quickly away. Mallory yelled my name, waving me frantically toward where she stood at the edge of the mats. When I reached her, she shook her head at me.
“You cannot seriously think you’re going to fight this guy. He could kick your ass with one arm tied behind his back, much less with all his voluminous vampire powers. He’s probably stronger than you, faster than you. He can probably jump higher. Hell, he can probably glamour you into making out with him right there on the mats.”
We simultaneously looked over to where Ethan, half naked, was toeing off black leather loafers. The muscles in his abdomen clenched as he moved. So did the lines of corded muscle across his shoulders.
God, but he was beautiful.
I narrowed my gaze.
Beautiful but evil. Wicked. The repugnant dregs of foul malevolence. Or something.
“Jesus,” Mallory whispered. “I want to support your quest for revenge and all, but maybe you should just let him glamour you.” She looked at me, and I could tell she was trying not to laugh. “Either you’re fucked, or you’re fucked , right?’
I rolled my eyes at her. “You’re not helping.”
The shuffle of footsteps rang through the room. We looked up. Vampires were filling the balcony, all dressed in black, all throwing hateful looks at me and Mallory. As I took in their obvious disdain, the weight of the risk I’d taken settled into my bones. According to the aptly named Canon , vampire society was based on antiquated notions of feudalism, including unfailing loyalty to a House and its Master. I’d walked into my House—into Ethan’s House—spouted off, and challenged him to a fight. Twenty-seven years of trying to live under my parents’ radar, of never causing enough trouble to raise their notice, and I’d made two very big mistakes in a matter of days. Walking across campus had nearly killed me. Challenging Ethan . . . Well, we’d find out soon enough.
“Probably this wasn’t the best decision I’ve ever made,” I admitted.
“No,” Mallory agreed, but when I looked at her, her eyes shone bright with appreciation. “But it’s ballsy. And you’ve needed to make a ballsy decision.”
“Just a minute ago you said—”
“Forget it. I know what I
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