Destined for an Early Grave(47)

And so that left me with the other alternative: going through with it. Maybe it was the better option, my anxiety aside. Gregor wouldn’t get mad, I wouldn’t be sent away, and according to him, I’d have no pregnancy or disease worries. Yes, I would have preferred to wait longer, much longer, before taking such a step, but apparently, my time was up.

“Cannelle.” I lowered my voice, gesturing for her to come nearer. She did, her expression quizzical. “I was wondering if you could tell me, ah, what to expect.”

I had no one else to ask. What was I going to do, call my mother and ask that? Hardly. I’d never had girlfriends, and the things I’d overheard at school wouldn’t help now. Sure, I knew what went where. But details on sex with a vampire? Nope.

“What to expect?” she repeated. I gestured for her to keep her voice down, but she ignored that. “Expect to be fucked, you simple little twit!”

Even in my extreme embarrassment, I had a flash of insight. “Gregor told me you’ve been with him for sixty years. Says he gives you his blood to keep you young, but you’re hanging on for the big promotion, aren’t you? You want to be a vampire, and you hate me because you know if I asked him, he’d change me into one. And he hasn’t offered the same to you.”

Her sky blue eyes narrowed. She bent down with an ugly little smile on her lips.

“You know what you can expect, your first time?” Now her voice was soft. Almost inaudible. “A lot of pain. Bon appétit.”

She left. I stared at the tray of food without the slightest twinge of hunger before pushing it away.



The knock came two hours later. It wasn’t at my bedroom door, where I’d been watching the clock like an inmate awaiting sentencing. It was at the front door of the house.

Gregor opened it while I peeked downstairs. We didn’t get any visitors. The fact that no fewer than six people entered made me come all the way down the hall. They were talking in French at a speed that made it unintelligible for me.

“Merde!” Gregor swore, and then a string of other words followed that might also have been curses. “Tonight? If he thinks to steal her, he’s greatly underestimated me. Catherine. Come down at once!”

I did, wondering how much trouble I was in for eavesdropping. To my relief, Gregor didn’t seem to care that I’d been listening. He opened the closet and handed me a coat.

“Put this on. We’re leaving.”

“Now?” I asked. A part of me was singing at my unexpected respite. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ll tell you on the way,” he answered, taking my arm and almost yanking me out the door. “We don’t have time to delay.”

Two more vampires were waiting with the back open to a black Mercedes. We climbed inside and instantly sped off. The velocity threw me backward. I didn’t even have time to buckle my seat belt. Okay, so we were in a big hurry.

“What’s wrong?” I asked again.

Gregor stared at me for a long moment. That freaked me out. It looked like he was making up his mind about something.

“Catherine,” he said, “you have been discovered. Even as we speak, Bones’s allies are searching the city for you. If they find you, they will turn you into the monster I described.”

I was stricken. “Oh, please, don’t let them! I don’t want to be a killer. I don’t want to—to become some kind of whore.”

For a split second, I’d have almost sworn he looked triumphant. But then his forehead creased, and he shook his head.

“There is only one way to prevent this, ma chérie. You must bind yourself to me. It is the only thing that can’t be undone.”

“Sure, bind me.” Whatever that meant. “Bind the hell out of me, just don’t turn me over to those monsters!”

“Lucius, to the Ritz,” he barked. The car did a swerve that had my life flashing before my eyes, then it straightened. “Tell the others to assemble there as well. I’m not binding myself in the backseat of a stinking car.”

Then he turned to me. “Catherine, if you do this, you’ll be protected for all of your days. If you don’t, then I can’t save you or your family. So when the time comes, don’t hesitate.”

That sounded ominous. It occurred to me to have him specify what “binding” meant. “Er, what do I have to do?”

He took my hand, drawing his finger down my palm. “You cut yourself here,” he outlined simply, “then clasp my hand and declare yourself mine. I cut my hand and do the same.”

“That’s it?” I was afraid it might have entailed turning me into a vampire. “Jeez, give me a knife, let’s do it!”