Page 4 of Dancing with Daggers

Zia started humming a merry tune, and he bit his tongue to stop himself from telling her to stop it. She also didn't believe in personal space because she was standing close enough that he could smell her perfume. It was a darkly cloying smell of spicy florals that seemed too rich of a scent for her and her bubbly personality.

Ares thought about how easily she had handled herself with Emilia and couldn't help but wonder if there was something darker lingering under her smile. No one learned how to move and fight like that unless they had to.

Ares looked up from his phone and subtly glanced at her. Whoever Corven's child had fucked to get her would have had to have been pretty. Zia had big brown eyes and a full soft looking mouth. There were three small freckles on the side of her neck that were like a perfect target for vampires. His fangs pricked the inside of his cheeks, and he tasted blood. Fuck.

"Do I have something on my face?" she asked, making him looking straight ahead again.

"No. I just see little Volso in you, that's all," he replied, and twisted the silver band on his index finger. Fucking fuck.

"I have it where it counts," Zia said and shuffled her feet. Was she nervous? He knew he made people uncomfortable and had always seen it as a plus.

"If Corven brought you into this, you must have," he said. He didn't know how to be comforting or reassuring. He scowled; he didn't want to be either.Technically, she was competition to be heir. This village girl with no experience of the world.

Had Corven lost his mind? A lot of the old vampires did. He must not have been thinking clearly to throw this helpless creature to the wolves of Inferno.

Mercifully, the elevator doors opened, and he showed her the gym and the training areas. Despite Emilia calling her fat to be petty, Zia was strongly built and clearly worked out. She wouldn't have been able to throw Emilia around so easily if she wasn't.

"You guys even have a steam room? Amazing. I love a steam, "she said brightly and looked through the glass window at the marbled and blue-tiled interior. "So pretty like everything else."

"Yes, well. I think I'm the only one who uses it. It's mine from ten pm onwards, so I doubt we will ever have to fight for it," Ares replied, making it very clear that it would be unwise to test him on it. He needed the steam to close off his day. It was his routine so he could sleep.

Unlike other dhampir, he tried to balance his days and nights, so he didn't just work nights. Ares only functioned when he stuck to his routine, and that meant seeing the sun. The girl beside him was already an inconvenience by being so unplanned for.

"Hello, sir. I was told to send this up to you?" a security guard said, appearing out of nowhere and pulling him out of his spiraling thoughts. He gestured to Zia. "The card is for her. Do you know where she's been housed?"

"The master requested she have the other apartment on floor seven, sir," the guard said, handing the card to Zia. He blushed when she thanked him and fluttered her pretty long lashes at him.

Ares cleared his throat, his thirst clawing at him. He didn't need blood often and took pride in not needlessly indulging in it, but everything about the day was going wrong. Floor seven was his floor, and now he was stuck sharing it with an unknown person. Gods curse Corven. He wouldn't be able relax ever again.

"You must be really busy. I can find the apartment. Thanks, cousin," Zia said, reading his annoyance far too easily. She stepped inside the elevator with a wave.

"No, I can take you. I'm headed that way anyway."

"Only if it's not a bother."

He caught the elevator door from closing. "It's not. My apartment is on the other side of floor seven."

It was the wrong thing to say. She turned her massive smile on him, and he almost hissed at it in self-defense.

"We are like roommates! How fun," she said.

Ares suppressed his shudder. "Not exactly," he muttered.

When they got to seven, he all but ran from the elevator to get distance between them. He crossed the foyer that was in the middle of the floor. There was a black door on one side and one on the other. There was a round polished table where a big display of flowers had been placed on it. His eyes narrowed. There were never flowers there. Fucking Corven.

"That one is yours," he said, pointing at the other door.

"Thanks for the tour, Ares. I suppose I'll see you around?"

"Probably not. I am?—"

"Very busy. Yeah, I get it. Enjoy work," she said and turned on her heel so quickly, her cursed ponytail whipped his arm. She shut the door without a backwards glance. Ares stared at the door, his fists clenching and unclenching.

"Fuck you, Corven," he muttered before going into his own apartment. He slammed the door and then felt like a twat.

Ares wasn't one to lose his temper. All that separated him from a total beast was control and routine. He breathed in and out and tried to let the neat surroundings of his apartment soothe him. He strode to the kitchen and mixed himself some blood and bourbon and downed it before making another. He never drank either during work hours, but his day was already fucked to hell.

He ground his back teeth together. He wanted to strangle that girl with her stupid ponytail. It would be a mercy to her because gods knew his fucking siblings would probably try to kill her the first chance they got.