Page 94 of Of Flame and Fate
Like the other vamps, Hank’s focus is on Johnny’s ever moving tattoos, enthralled by the way the leopard shrinks in size and withdraws into Johnny’s skin.
“The Fate is welcomed to the entire east wing,” he mutters, watching the leopard stalk through his jungle home.
“No,” I say.
“No?” Hank jerks his head up. “Why not?”
“The Fate prefers privacy at all costs,” I tell him. “He respectfully requests use of the guesthouse during his stay.”
“It’s smaller,” Hank tells me, speaking slowly as if I’m not aware.
“I know, and I’m telling you, it’s what the Fate prefers,” I repeat. The less the vamps have access to him, the longer Johnny will be able to pull off this façade.
Hank looks at Johnny, his features quizzical and questioning.
“I like my privacy,” Johnny concurs.” He lifts his arms slightly. “We all do.”
Hank’s stare returns briefly to Johnny’s tats. With a jerk of his chin, he motions to the vampire opposite him.
“It will be just a moment,” Hank tells Johnny. “My apologies, young Fate.”
Again, Johnny has to stop himself from saying thank you. But he does nod regally, just as he damn well should.
“This way,” Hank says, leading him forward.
I keep my arms behind my back, hoping Johnny will follow Hank and not remain glued to my side. He does, hesitating only briefly.
Gemini turns to me, lifting my chin and planting one hell of a sexy kiss on my lips. It’s his way of reminding the vamps who linger that I’m his and also underwereprotection.
It’s also his way of telling me my aggression made him hot.
“Tonight?” he asks.
“Tonight,” I promise.
Bren knocks me affectionately on the shoulder and hops down the steps. “Way to show them who’s boss, Taran.”
I wait for Gemini to return to his vehicle and drive away before following the remaining vampires inside.
So far, so good. The thing is, nothing is ever at it seems in the House of Aleksandr.
Chapter Twenty
Ever wake up, feeling like there’s someone watching you sleep?
Ever have that someone watching you sleep dressed like a naughty Catholic schoolgirl? Welcome to my world.
Agnes Concepcíon looms over me, eyeing me with interest. And when I mean interest, I mean she’s focused on my jugular and licking her lips. I jump and scramble to the opposite side of the sage couch. “What the hell, Agnes?”
She hops off the armrest where she was crouched, her movements smooth and feline. “The master has returned and would like you and the Fate to join him for dinner.” She adjusts her tiny librarian glasses. “But first he requests a private audience with you.”
“With me?” I rub my eyes and look in the direction of the bedroom.
“Yes, with you,” Agnes says, already annoyed.
Except for the flames dancing in the fireplace, the rest of the living room is dark which does nothing to squelch Agnes’s spooky vibe. She’s smiling, and still very fascinated with my neck.
“What time is it?” I ask.