Woman King - By Evette Davis Page 0,113

by William to gauge the strength of my own fidelity.

Perhaps William had reason to test me. After a particularly intense sparring session, as we were catching our breath on the mats, I made the mistake of telling Josef that I could read him, that I could see his aura, and pick up on his emotions. William would have had a fit, reminding me to be more discreet. I don’t know what caused me to push the limits like that. But when I did, Josef fixed on me the fiercest of gazes.

“Do not let other vampires know,” he admonished me. “We are a private sort, and do not like to be so transparent to others.”

He stared intently, his dark-brown eyes scrutinizing me. “It is curious that you can read vampires. Humans don’t usually have the skills. It is no wonder William wants you to be able to defend yourself.”

“Why didn’t William mention you right away?”

“If you know a vampire’s family, you know where they sleep,” he said. “We protect our privacy.”

“So the fact that William introduced us is significant.” It was half question, half statement.

Josef eyed me warily. “Yes, but please don’t ask me if he really loves you,” he said in a mocking tone. “Vampires are not like a grade-school crush. My brother has survived close to two hundred years by limiting his exposure to humans. If he has brought you to see me, it’s because he has found his mate. He trusts you with his survival.”

“Apparently, he entrusts my survival to you,” was my comeback with a twist. I shot my right foot in the air to try to knock him down and my timing was right. Josef was too distracted by my comment to move out of the way and I managed to get him partially to the floor.

“Very good, sister,” he said.

“Sister,” I repeated, continuing to spar. “Don’t I have to be married to William, to become your sister?”

“You are as good as married to William now,” Josef said. “He has left you alone with me for days…if he hadn’t made it clear you were his mate, I would have taken you for myself. Immediately.”

Ever so briefly, an image popped into mind. I shook it away, ashamed that I had entertained it at all, but Josef caught a whiff of what my imagination evoked. He sensed my slip and let out a loud laugh as he knocked me to the ground. He came down to the floor, hovering directly over me.

“Olivia, I believe you have a bit of vampire in you,” he said. “Now who is coveting what she may not have?”

I laid still for a minute, feeling the outline of his body on mine. He smelled of cinnamon and cumin, like some exotic spice out of the East. I suppose I was testing his mettle as much as my own, but I could sense he was merely playing with me. He had no intention of betraying his brother. We both stayed silent apart from the sound my deep breathing, and then I pushed him aside and got up to leave the studio.

“Au revoir, mon frère.”

“A bientôt,” he said, with a mock salute. “I will see you again, yes, and soon.”

Twenty minutes later, as I walked into my house, I heard the phone ringing. The caller ID told me it was my mother. I hesitated to pick up, cognizant of being only intermittently in touch these last few weeks. I hadn’t been avoiding her exactly, but there were so many events, so many revelations, that I wasn’t feeling up to telling her everything. Learning of my injuries from the robbery alone would have been enough to send her over the edge.

She sounded happy when I answered, though I gave off the vibe that I was very much on the move yet again. “Are you coming or going? Do you have a minute to speak?”

“I’m just walking in from working out,” I said, “What’s up?”

“My trip to Paris is coming up,” she said. “I’m leaving in two days. I think I may have mentioned that I was invited to show my paintings at the Left Bank gallery. It’s down the way from the Musée d’Orsay on the Quai Malaquais.”

“Two days?” I said. “Is someone already in Paris helping set up?”

“Yes, darling, you know me well enough to know I would never agree to an exhibition on such short notice. I chose the paintings weeks ago and an assistant flew ahead to get started. The show doesn’t actually begin

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