dawn had broken, he was trying to get home as quickly as possible before his retinas burned out of his skull.
Once he reached Keystone, he parked his bike in the underground garage and walked toward the mansion. He thought about the disdain in Raven’s voice when she mentioned domination. The games they played in the bedroom were tame compared to what she must have witnessed in the club. Whether she realized it or not, her difficulty understanding the pleasure people got from it stemmed from her time with Fletcher. Christian didn’t dare bring it up with her, but he’d witnessed what abuse could do to a person. Fletcher had beaten and chained her, performed repulsive sexual acts in front of her as a way to assert his dominance. He’d stolen her light, which was a kind word for energy rape. And to have endured such atrocities from her own Creator? The one who was supposed to mentor and protect her? The one whose light coursed throughout her body?
Christian touched the onyx ring on his middle finger. Raven would always be tormented by those memories, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. As tempting as it was to scrub her mind of the whole affair, it was better that she remembered. Hate was Raven’s accelerant. It lit a fire within her soul and made her the woman she was. Fire was what forged Christian into a better Vampire and gave him a tenacious grip on life.
Before reaching the door, he stripped off his dirty shirt. While filling Raven’s thermos prior to leaving her hotel, he’d spilled coffee on himself. The drink would probably be cold by the time she woke up, but it mattered little. Christian didn’t have much experience wooing a woman, but that was his way of showing his affection for her.
Raven was supposed to work the early evening—same shift as the murdered women. The White Owl opened at roughly five in the afternoon and didn’t close until the next morning. Fantasy clubs rarely opened their doors in the daytime. The expense of staying open all hours wasn’t worth it, and the limited availability attracted more people. Not to mention, most people didn’t want to walk the streets in their leather thong during noontime hours.
With his sunglasses still on, Christian strode into the house. The moment he shut the door behind him, a familiar laugh emanated from the dining room.
“Fecking hell,” he muttered, not caring that Lenore could hear him.
Christian entered the short hall, passing a few rooms on the left before reaching the entryway on the right. The booths were empty, and through the windows in the gathering room, he glimpsed dappled sunlight in the courtyard.
“Christian, come say hello to our guest.” Viktor invited him over to the long wooden table.
He didn’t like that Lenore was sitting in Raven’s chair. Reluctantly, he drifted toward them but chose to linger at the kitchen entrance. The breakfast plates still had a few bites of scrambled eggs and toast left behind.
“I was just dropping off my dirty laundry.” Christian squeezed the ball of fabric in his hand.
“Let Kira take that when she comes back. She is making banitsa. Have you had this pastry? Sit! You must try.” Viktor was certainly in good spirits.
Christian draped his shirt over the back of Wyatt’s chair and sat down across from Lenore. Her perfume smelled like honeysuckle, and her floral off-the-shoulder dress fit her body like a glove. Lenore had always favored bright colors, and the yellow material complemented her flaxen hair, which was styled in an elaborate braided bun. Her trademark was pulling out wisps of hair to give her a more casual appearance. Lenore never wanted to look overly prim, but these were different times, and nobody gave a shite about rules of etiquette.
Lenore lifted her glass of orange juice and held it close to her lips. “Someone is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning.” Her eyes skimmed down to his bare chest and settled on the tattoo. Lenore was a reticent woman, and she still hadn’t said anything about his ink. She danced around the topic as if it were a strapping young lad in the center of a ballroom. Instead, she sipped her juice and admired the room décor.
Christian took off his sunglasses. “And to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”
She set down her crystal glass. “I’ve heard wonderful things about Mr. Valentine. Not so long ago, your Chitah gave me his business card. I