Disenchanted (Disenchanted #1) - Brianna Sugalski Page 0,57

vampire smiled ruefully while his brother stared him down.

Then, Bastion was gone—he moved faster than Garin ever had—and cold fingers with long nails suddenly gripped Lilac’s arm.

“Bastion,” Garin growled warningly.

Lilac inhaled sharply and shut her eyes as Bastion sniffed lightly at her now hair-free neck, his nose trailing along her shoulder. “Simply intoxicating.”

“Leave her,” Garin said with forced calm.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to share a drink? Like old times.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Bastion gave a nonchalant shrug, though his eyes held fast. He dragged a talon across Lilac’s skin, a trace of mockery lacing his voice. “You’re drinking again. From humans, I mean. You’ve never had an issue with the scotch.”

“I am.”

“Then I don’t see what the problem is.”

Garin grabbed her arm and tugged her firmly away from Bastion, who released her. For once, she was grateful to be manhandled by him. Her skin still crawled where Bastion had touched her.

“I said, she is my thrall,” Garin added. “Therefore, there will be no sharing of any kind.”

“Your eyes aren’t red, brother,” Bastion observed, suddenly grinning again. “Do not lie to me. You haven’t fed in at least a couple days.”

Regret flickered over Garin’s expression before settling into trite annoyance. “She’s getting used to being fed on constantly. I don’t want to waste her stamina. I don’t know, I like to… enjoy her.”

Through the fear, she was suddenly more aware of his grip on her arm. He was talking for Bastion’s benefit now, but the chilling implication of his words still shook her. His words back at the river’s edge—about being unlike Sinclair in that way—registered; perhaps he wasn’t that kind of monster, but was Bastion?

Unthinkingly, she inched closer to Garin. Her skin prickled beneath his fingers.

Bastion’s eyes lit. “Enjoy her, you say?” He glanced at Lilac, whose ears had reddened.

Swiftly, he hooked a sharp talon under her chin and forced her to look at him. His irises were mesmerizing, a shifting fluid of red bloodstones and rubies.

Garin’s grip on her arm unwittingly tightened. The feeling in her fingers started to go. “You dare attempt to entrance her,” he growled under his breath.

“Oh, trust me, brother.” Bastion’s breath was stale, the metallic aroma again invading Lilac’s nostrils. “I don’t need a bit of sanguine magic to tell if a human is lying to me. Look at me, girl. Has he recently fed from you? Look me at me!”

Lilac felt the stirrings of an irresistible pull from the vampire’s gaze. Her palms grew clammy, and the room around them began to grow dim. He was trying to get inside her head. She couldn’t give Garin away—despite everything, she certainly trusted him more than this monster.

Her lower lip began to quiver as she forced herself to revisit the memory of Sinclair on top of her. Her mind began to race, and her heart clamored as she pictured him ripping at her gown and grasping her skin, places she’d never been touched before.

When the monster pulled back to look at her, Garin’s face replaced Sinclair’s—

“Yes,” she choked, not recognizing the terror in her own voice. Hot tears clung to her lashes. “Yes sir, he has.”

Lilac felt Garin’s grip on her arm lessen and slide down, toward her hand. She wanted to slap the growing satisfaction clean off of Bastion’s face, yet she could not stop herself from trembling. She stole a look at Garin, who’s expression remained unreadable.

“My. The devil himself, finally returned.” Bastion heartily slapped Garin on the shoulder again. “And you’ve had a bit more than blood from the wench, haven’t you?”

Garin rolled his eyes. “Please. At least try to be decent.”

“I expected no less. And you didn’t even entrance her to forget, either… How wicked,” he said, brows arching in surprise.

Garin groaned. “Cut the shit, Bast. We’ve had a long journey and I’d like to get to my chamber. You know why I’ve returned.”

Bastion paused. “Ah.” He then nodded slowly. “I’d hoped you simply wanted to rejoin your kind. You’ve been gone long, brother.”

“You know as well as I, brother, that with Laurent’s death, power among our ranks has shifted.” Garin spoke softly, almost reluctantly. He watched Bastion pace away.

Garin’s gaze trailed behind her, slowly, from left to right as he watched his brother’s every movement. Bastion was like a shark, his outward aggression and hostility all too obvious. In contrast, Garin was like a snake—collected and calculating.

Bastion chuckled roughly from behind her. “Laurent’s infamous first sire. Of course, big brother. The prodigal son returns.”

Lilac held in a gasp. Suddenly, Lilac

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