Bound by Danger (The Alliance #6) - Brenda K. Davies Page 0,23

with her arms folded over her chest.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“I’m not going in there to watch you kill people.”

“I’m not going to kill them.”

Or at least he hoped he wasn’t. He didn’t know what would happen once his fangs pierced their flesh and their blood flooded his mouth. He was as stable as the ground during an earthquake.

However, he would do whatever it took not to lose control of himself in such a way, especially if she was there.

“Isn’t killing what you do?” she asked.

“We can feed without killing; some vampires choose not to, but I keep my victims alive. I won’t kill them, and I’m not leaving you out here.” He detected more heartbeats as he glanced up and down the road. “It’s not safe out here.”

Callie stared at the ruined houses surrounding them. Though she couldn’t see anyone, she sensed them standing in the shadows of this ruined place, watching and waiting. Waiting for what, she didn’t know, and she didn’t want to find out.

The idea of going inside made her skin crawl, but it was the better option. She stalked up the walkway toward him and halted a foot away. “Let’s go so you can torture some innocent people.”

“I’m not going to torture them.”

“As someone who has experienced your bite, I can tell you that you are going to torture them.”

Lucien winced at this reminder. He’d never been one for self-hatred and regrets. Shit happened; it was as simple as that. Until her, there was only one thing he wished to change, but the past was as untouchable as the sun, and like the sun, it could destroy him if he lingered on it.

However, he regretted everything about their original encounter and many of the things that followed. He would give anything to start over and do it right, but it was too late for that. Even if he could control her mind and change her memories, he realized he wouldn’t do it.

No, he’d made his mistakes, and he would live with the consequences of them, but he would not mess with her head.

“It’s not painful if you don’t fight it, and if I could take control of their minds, they wouldn’t know I was doing it,” he said.

He turned away before she could question him further, and after some hesitation, she followed him into the house.

Chapter Eleven

Once inside, Lucien clasped her elbow again. She almost jerked it free, but his tender touch helped guide her around the broken board in the rotting floor.

A rank, mildew scent filled the air. It mingled with the stench of something more acrid—urine and feces. Her nose wrinkled, and she pulled her shirt up to cover her nose and mouth. The thin material did little to block out the stench as he released her.

When she retreated a couple of steps back toward the open doorway, Lucien turned to look at her. He prepared to chase her if she bolted, but she didn’t look ready to run; she simply looked horrified and slightly green.

“We won’t stay long,” he assured her.

And then he hated himself for making her stay here at all. Somehow, he would make this up to her. He had no idea how and no idea why he cared, but he would do it.

He picked his way carefully across the floor, but the boards were surprisingly steady and didn’t sag under his weight. Crossing through the doorway, he stepped into another room that he assumed was once the living room with its brick fireplace and numerous windows. Those windows were all boarded over now, but one of them still had checkered blue and white curtains surrounding it.

He held his hand back to keep Callie away, but she crept forward. He tried to block the doorway, but she peered around him to take in the people in the room.

Two of them shared the same dirty mattress as they slept together. One sat against the wall with an empty bottle of whiskey by his side. A fourth lay on another bed with sheets and a small blanket tucked around her. Spread around the woman were a few personal items, including pictures of a family.

Upon closer inspection, Callie realized the woman stood proudly in the middle of that photo. She looked far different than the vibrant woman beaming at the camera. She had her arms draped around the shoulders of two children who were hugging her back. That woman’s brown hair shone; this woman’s graying brown hair was lank and dull from grease. Her