Page 41 of Blood Match
And I’d like nothing more.
“No,” I heave a sigh, waving a hand. “Send him in.” Despite my current state of mind, I can’t avoid him. And I’d like to see what he has to say about the night with the witches in the grove.
Minutes later, Sebastian is back and I watch as Lucien saunters into my study, arrogance oozing. Sebastian closes the door behind him, leaving us. Marcus stands silently by my side, a silent sentinel.
“Darick,” Lucien purrs, his eyes gleaming with barely concealed malice. “What a pleasure to see you looking…so well.”
I don’t look well at all.
I force myself to remain outwardly calm despite the hunger gnawing at my insides. “Cut the pleasantries, Lucien. I know you were behind the attack on the witches.”
He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “Oh? And what evidence do you have to support such an accusation?”
“I was there,” I growl, my patience wearing thin. “I saw your men.”
Lucien chuckles, the sound grating on my nerves. “My men? I’m flattered you think I have such influence. But really, Darick, you should know better than to make such bold claims without proof.”
I clench my fists, wanting to lash out. The thirst intensifies, making it harder to focus. Lucien’s eyes narrow, and I realize he’s studying me intently.
“You seem…distracted, old friend,” he says, his tone making a mockery of his words of concern. “Not feeling quite yourself lately?”
My heart races. Does he know? I’ve had my suspicions since the last gathering of the Assembly. But the only one I’ve told is Marcus. Unless one of the servants…
Shit.
It’s not like I’ve hidden some of my behavior. Tonight’s lapse is a perfect example. I force myself to maintain eye contact, not giving an inch. “I’m fine, Lucien. Your concern is touching but misplaced.”
He takes a step closer, and I resist the urge to recoil. “Are you sure? You look a bit…pale. Even for a vampire.” His gaze flicks to the empty blood glass on my desk. “Having trouble keeping things down?”
I feel Marcus tense beside me, ready to intervene if necessary. I take a deep breath, steeling myself. “I said I’m fine. Now, cut to the chase. What are you here for?”
“Just a social visit, Lord Drake. After our last conversation, I thought we should settle our differences.”
I give a snort. “You mean pour oil on troubled waters, Marlowe?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say they’re troubled…unless that’s how you feel?” He raises an eyebrow. His eyes are calculating.
“I’m not troubled at all.” I rest back in my seat, an elbow on the armrest, a picture of calm detachment. “In fact, I’m feeling more settled every day. Settled in the knowledge that it’s only a matter of time before I figure out what you’re up to.”
“Why would I be up to anything? I’m simply concerned about the welfare of our people.”
“You’ve never been concerned about anything except your own welfare.” I give him a level stare. Memories of battle cries and dying men’s screams still fill my head whenever I look into those cold, flat eyes.
“Ah, now I’m hurt.” He chuckles. He’s hovering at the edge of my desk. I don’t offer him a seat. He looks around the room. “You know, this place hasn’t changed a bit since I was last here. What was that…a century ago?”
“Probably more.”
“Pity I don’t get more invitations to visit.” He glances at Marcus.
“That’s because I don’t want you here. Pity you can’t take the hint.”
What the fuck does he want?
Somehow, I’m pretty sure I know what he wants. He wants to gauge my strength. He wants to see how I react to him appearing unannounced. He wants to throw me off balance.
I won’t give him the satisfaction.
“Now, if you have nothing of substance to say, I suggest you leave.” There’s ice in my voice.