Killer Temptation (14 page)

Her pace slow and careful, she made her way toward the edge, afraid if she moved too fast, the alcove would snap shut and deny her what she craved; the light of day.

A mix of pink and yellow painted the sunset sky. Tall grass and small patches of flowers bedded throughout the green field, the same flowers in the vase. So, this was where he obtained them. The leaves from the trees below rustled in the wind, tempting her to close her eyes and listen to the sound, but she didn’t, afraid to miss a moment of splendour.

Something small and blue drew closer. She squinted. A butterfly. It fluttered around the edge of the opening, diving inside the cave. Brianna couldn’t tear her eyes from its heart-shaped wings that arched back then forward; its bright blue, petal-like wings flapped, dominating the dark shadows. The butterfly flew out of the alcove, and the unexpected smile curving her lips now dampened.

Words stuck in her throat like dry sand. She swallowed before speaking. “Why are you showing me this?”

“I thought you would like to see the sunset. Did you notice the flowers.” He pointed in their direction. “I collected them last night.” His tongue ran along his bottom lip. “I come here sometimes and watch the sun go down. It helps me think, or sometimes it’s good not to think and just sit and stare.”

The view caused her breath to hitch, but observing the scenery from the shadows made her feel more of a prisoner. If only he allowed her to enter the open field, let the damp grass tickle her feet, the cool wind caress her face, and the golden globe of the sun warm her skin.

She faced him, tension squeezed the muscles in her arms like a blood pressure monitor. “You selfish bastard. It isn’t enough you lock me away in darkness, but now you tease me with the light of day. Have you had enough, or do you want to see me suffer more?”

“Brianna…I.”

Hot tears streamed down her face. “What did you think, Tristan? That you could win me over by showing me this beautiful scenery? You know what I would like? My freedom. I’d also like to show you the same misery you’ve shown me, misery you deserve. This place reminds me of what you’ve taken from me, what you’re still keeping me from.”

He averted his gaze, perhaps too ashamed to meet her eyes. “I…I’m sorry. I wanted to do something nice.”

“Nice?” she scoffed. “This is cruel. I wish I was the damn butterfly so I could fly out of here.”

“Brianna.” He reached for her hand.

“No.” She flinched back. “Don’t touch me. Don’t show me your little special getaway places; don’t do anything unless you intend on letting me go.”

For a long moment, he stared. “Let’s go back to the room and I’ll get you something to eat.” Shoulders slumped, he walked away and reminded her of a lost little boy, leaving her no choice but to follow.

An ache throbbed in her chest, similar to a sore and tender bruise. She shouldn’t feel bad. Someone needed to put him in his place. Then, why did guilt hang over her head like a thundercloud? Dammit, she wasn’t the bad-guy in all this. He murdered, kidnapped—and yet seeing his disappointment overshadowed those very important facts.

She shook her head, hoping to clear it. When she thought he’d died, a part of her dared to admit there had been something between them. Not now. No matter what, she could not let him break down her barriers. Pity was a weakness for fools, and she would not let her guard down.

She followed him around another corner, observing the hallway that broke off into several other passageways. Would it be easy to run off and find a way out? She doubted it. This cave held so many bends and corridors, it resembled a maze.

Two vampires stood outside her prison. She recognised one of them from yesterday. He was shorter than Tristan, with the same dark blonde hair, but longer. The other also held a similar resemblance with the same green eyes, but darker hair.

“Julian,” Tristan said to the shorter one, then turned to acknowledge the dark-haired one. “Dominic.”

“Went for a nice stroll, eh?” The one named Julian teased with a stupid grin. But that grin didn’t last long because Dominic nudged him in the ribs with his elbow.

“What did I say about being an
imbécile
?
”

“Brianna. You haven’t met my brothers. This is Julian and this is Dominic.”

She rolled her eyes. Did he expect her to say hello to the guards who would make sure she didn’t leave his room?

Tristan nodded, a swift, jerky movement, and reached for the door. Even if she managed to break out of his room, how would she ever escape the guards or the cave? She must form a plan. She refused to wait around for Tristan to realise he wasted his time.

“I’ll be back soon.”

Ignoring him, she sat on the edge of the bed.

“Nice to meet you,” The one named Julian called while the door shut.

****

“Wow, she’s a snob.”

“Watch yourself!” He raised a fist at his younger brother.

Julian shrugged. “Well, she is. Now how long do we have to do this? I hate standing around all day.”

Tristan’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits. A hollow ache pulsated within his stomach, a constant reminder of his hunger. “As long as I tell you.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid idea! He marched off, through the many passageways, tempted to stop and kick himself. What had he been thinking? Of course she wouldn’t be taken by the scene from the alcove. He entered the end of the long hall that extended to the town square.

The place was buzzing. Couples strolled with their children from stall to stall. Groups of men and women sat at the outdoor tables of the many bars and restaurants, chatting and laughing. He made his way across the cobblestone path, sidestepping a child with a toy truck, and heading toward the small coal-coloured building up ahead.

From inside the large bow window, Cynthia held measuring tape against a woman wearing a half-made dress. Climbing the three steps, he headed inside the small boutique. A bell rang above his head and Cynthia glanced over her shoulder.

“Tristan.” She smiled a greeting. “Give me a moment and I’ll be with you.”

He scanned the many racks of gowns within the small boutique; some completed, others with scraps and pins prodded through them, no doubt the beginning of new designs. Cynthia was very creative and professional. Women, vampire and human spoke of her gowns with admiration. Taking a seat in one of the armchairs alongside the wall, he waited for her to finish.

“Head into the back and get Katarina to help you out of the dress.”

“Thank you, Cynthia,” the client said, gathering the hem of the material and walking away.

He stood when Cynthia sauntered over. She placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed her cheek to his. “How are you?”

“Could be better.” He shrugged, and the disappointment on Brianna’s face entered his thoughts.

Cynthia’s dark brows furrowed. “Are you still having trouble with your
moitié
?”

Trouble? What an understatement. Brianna had looked about ready to throw him off that ledge…which he could not blame her for. He had no right rubbing the scenery in her face, even though that wasn’t his intention. He wanted to make her smile, do something to brighten her mood. The pain he endured at seeing her upset almost made him scream and claw at his insides. It was not healthy being locked away in a bedroom all day, but she left him no choice. He didn’t trust her. “I’m at a loss. It seems everything I do makes her hate me more.”

He never had this problem with women from his past, but they were vampires. Humans differed. Besides, Brianna wasn’t a date, or a casual affair…she was much more, and because of that he wanted to give her the world wrapped in a pretty pink bow. But a man like himself, a vampire from the darkness, could only give a woman so much.

“Maybe in time she’ll come around.” Cynthia examined her dress, picking at the strands of cotton and letting them fall to the floor.

“Time never meant anything…and now it does.”

“What do you mean?”

“I…” He paused, unsure if he should go on. No, he trusted Cynthia, considered her a sister. “I haven’t consumed since I brought her here.”

Her brown eyes widened. “But, haven’t you told Brianna what happens if you don’t feed?”

He shook his head. “What is the point? She won’t care. She can’t stand me touching her, let alone drinking from her.” This conversation made him thirstier, reminding him of the last time he'd tasted Brianna. The day he brought her to
Désuet
, she had pinched her hand and he’d managed a mere drop from the cut. The sample did not satisfy, but teased him. Besides, he did not want to simply take her blood. Feeding was a private matter when involving a moitié. Not only did it nourish, but during lovemaking it was a vow of giving and receiving, sharing in blood and body.

“This is terrible. I wish I could do something to help.”

Extending a hand, he cupped her soft cheek. “Don’t fret, Cynthia. There’s nothing you can do.” Feeding off someone different would not work. He joined himself to Brianna after the first time her blood filled his system. His body recognised her as his mate and accepted her essence alone.

From what he understood, anything other tasted like ash, except for a vampire who was an addict, craving not just the blood of a
moitié
, but any blood. He bit the inside of his cheek, swamped by painful memories. That was in the past and no longer his concern.

“Tristan…” She sounded hesitant saying his name, and he lowered his hand. “Do you love her, even without the whole
moitié
bond?”

“Yes.” Without a doubt in his mind, he knew he did. “I must admit the bond is a strong part of it. But, ever since I learned Brianna was my
moitié
, I have studied her every movement, noticing the little things, like the way her nose wrinkles when she doesn’t like something, or how the corner of her mouth twitches before she yells. This is the woman who is meant for me, born and created for me. Each breath fascinates me, and I can’t help but stare and admire her.”

Cynthia puffed out a breath. “Even when she’s giving you a hard time?”

He smiled, gaze shifting to the set of sewing machines on the table. “Even so.”

“Well.” She shrugged. “As you already know, I am no expert on
moitié
bonds, but I hope Brianna warms to you soon.” Again, she looked away, heat colouring her cheeks.

“Is something else bothering you?”

She stiffened, keeping her stare on the racks of garments rather than face him. “I’m fine…I’ve just been a little stressed these last few days.”

That bugged him. Cynthia had experienced enough heartache in her lifetime. She deserved so much more. “You’re very strong. Most women would have broken down and given up a long time ago. Not you, you’re beyond brave.”

She bit her lower lip, shaking her head. “No,” she whispered. “I don’t feel brave at all. I don’t think I’ve ever felt weaker.”

“What do you mean?”

She at last met his gaze. Those brown eyes so wide, he struggled to guess what bothered her. What did she hide?

“Nothing.” She shook her head. The expressiveness in her eyes now shadowed over like an eclipse. “Like I said, I’m just stressed.”

He understood. He had never been more on edge in his entire life. It made him wonder just how long it would take Brianna to warm up, as Cynthia said. Or were they doomed forever? Maybe he should let Brianna go. What right did he have holding her when she didn’t want him?

“Did you come to see the dresses I chose for Brianna to wear to the
moitié
ball?”

“No,” he said, forgetting his previous thoughts. “I wanted to ask what you brought Brianna the other night for dinner.”

A small grin curled her lips. “Of course.” She strolled to the front of the shop and pointed out the large, bow window. “The café across the road has a variety of baguettes. I got her the
Le Bayonne
roll. She enjoyed that.”

“Thanks. And about those dresses, come by in the morning and we’ll take a look.”

“Will do.”

He opened the door, sounding off the brass bell again.

“Tristan?”

He paused and turned. A raw sadness darkened her eyes, like an acute pain that screamed out for mercy.

“I’m sorry you’re going through this.”

“I’ll be fine.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “And I’m sorry your situation isn’t any better, because you deserve to be happy.”

He headed into the main square, over to the café with the baguettes. A couple seated at the outdoor café caught his attention. The human woman with dark, long, hair and dark eyes smiled over at her
moitié
seated across. The man must have said something amusing because she threw her head back and laughed, then jumped from her seat, wrapped her arms around his neck and settled onto his lap. They kissed with such passion, it made others stare and smile.

He imagined himself like that with Brianna, however, their relationship spread like cancer, getting worse. Biting the inside of his cheek, he attempted to douse the pain swelling inside his heart. He wanted her so much, would do anything to have her. Why couldn’t she see that?

A twinge stabbed his stomach and he doubled over. Sweat covered his forehead, breath panting.

“
Monsieur
, are you all right?” A man said from behind, helping him to stand.

“
Oui, oui
. I am fine.”

The man nodded, but concern still stamped his face as he strolled off.

He sighed, recalling his conversation with Cynthia, and how he loved the little things about Brianna. True, he did. But, he could not force her to have mutual feelings. For now, he’d give her time. A slighter twinge speared his insides. Time, however, was against him.

Chapter 8

Boom. Boom. Boom.