perhaps. And in the arms of the King of Vampires. A tyrant and a monster. But a lonely, hurting thing, whose heart bled even as he drank from others to refill it. A cold and cruel exterior surrounding a wound that had been paid to him long ago.
After several more minutes in silence, the carriage rolled to a stop. Walter climbed out first and offered her his hand as she descended the stairs.
Once she was on the street, he looked down at her dourly. “Do not intentionally bring him pain, Miss Parker. That is all I ask.”
“I do not know as if I have much choice in anything I do.”
“Ah, but you do. Enjoy the opera, my lady.” He climbed into the carriage and was gone.
A figure caught her attention, standing amongst the crowd, who parted around him and gave him a wide berth. They could sense what he was—a shark in a school of fish.
She let out a wavering breath.
She did not know for certain what would happen this night, but the glint in his crimson eyes told her what she might expect. The shark had singled her out, and tonight, she would feel his teeth once more.
Tonight, there would be no stopping him from having all that he wished to take.
21
Vlad bowed deeply, one arm folded in front of him. “My lady.”
Maxine tried not to laugh. She shook her head. “I am not your lady, Vlad. I am your prisoner.” It was as much of a reminder for her as it was for him. She seemed to need it constantly, especially in his presence. It was so easy to forget around him. So easy to be swept up in how he made her feel.
He straightened, and his expression was a stern one. “Is that how we are to begin our night?” It was clear he was disappointed. It almost made her regret her words.
But her life was not a game.
“I must seem so small to you. So brief.” She watched the couples pass them. No one glanced at her. She didn’t need to ask why. Dracula either had them all in his thrall or he was masking their presence. “I can understand why you would treat me like a toy.”
“You are correct.” His hand touched her hair, stroking over it, gathering the end of her braid in his hand before he began to unwind it. “You are more fleeting to me than a flash of a firefly in the night. Barely will I even have registered that you exist before you are gone. Even if you were to wish for my eternal kiss, you will fade to dust before I can do little more than blink. All things drop away from me and are gone. You observed it as such, did you not? All to me is as sand within my grasp.”
When his hand combed through her hair, her eyes slipped shut. Something about his touch was hypnotic, even without the aid of his literal supernatural ability. When he began again, his voice was a dark rumble that came from close beside her. “I am surprised, though, that you would fault me for this.”
“I do not fault you for what you are.”
“Ah, but you do. You bemoan the symptoms but say that you sympathize with the cause. Yes, I delight in my games. Their brief diversions are the only pleasures I have left in this world.” A touch of a finger tilted her head up to look at him. The feeling of him came over her like the surge of the tide. It was not nearly as alarming now as it had been before she realized she could swim. Bit by bit, embrace by embrace, the sensation of his soul against hers was becoming less disturbing. It was becoming—she could not find the right word for it. Comforting. Familiar.
Enjoyable.
His expression was still aristocratic and exacting, but something had grown softer in his crimson eyes. “Do not resent me for the games I play. That I toy with you is not meant to demean you. You are not, nor shall you ever be, little in my eyes.”
She wasn’t sure what to say. He robbed her of her words once more. He stepped closer to her, and she could smell roses upon him. He slipped his hand to cradle her cheek, and she found herself leaning into his touch, searching for more of it. Of him.