Misha’s finger slipped from my jaw. He circled me slowly. “Is the world not as deserving of you?”
Sins have a funny way of resurfacing at inappropriate times. I smiled without humor. “Emme has enough heart for both of us. If her heart continues to beat, in a way, mine will, too.” I stopped smiling then. “Make me this promise, Misha.”
He waited briefly before whirling me around and exposing my palm. I gasped when his warm tongue slid against my skin. He licked it once before placing my hand over his heart. “I do not agree with your request, but I give you my word as a master.”
Misha didn’t release me; he kept his hand on mine as he led me into the Delaware-size dining room and to the marble table. My sisters lifted their heads from their plates. Most of their eggs Benedict and hash browns remained untouched. They didn’t want to eat, yet they knew survival depended on more than just adrenaline.
I sat next to Taran. She pretended to fuss with the strap of my tank. “Did he say yes?” she whispered. I nodded, both to her and to Shayna, who looked up. Shayna smiled with sadness and relief before returning to her meal.
CHAPTER 14
Small drops of rain hit my face as we walked along the beach toward the boathouse, gathering twigs for Shayna along the way. I added the small stick to the pile I cradled and yanked up my hood. By the time we reached the lengthy dock, the droplets had temporarily ceased. It was just as well; the skimpy hood was no match for my long waves, even in the ponytail I’d wrangled them into. And besides, the thunder in the distance promised a thorough drenching with or without proper rain gear.
Four white boats, flashy and built for speed, bobbed next to a small yacht. Three vampires waited in the ones at the end of the pier—our captains, I presumed. But just as I stepped onto the first wide plank the scurry of tiny feet alerted my senses.
“Celia, look out!”
I was already looking over the edge of the yacht before Shayna could finish shouting her warning, watching the little brown field mouse disappear into the adjacent wooded area. I stood to leap back onto the dock, but the scowls from Misha’s vampires halted me in place.
“A cat that’s afraid of a mouse. Nice,” one of Misha’s bodyguards muttered.
My jaw clenched tight. “I’m not afraid. I’m just sort of…allergic.”
“You’re allergic to mice,” one of the good Catholics repeated, disgust dripping from each word.
“Well, all animals, actually,” Emme said, frowning at them as much as her angelic features allowed. “But that doesn’t make her weak.”
The Catholic schoolgirl jerked her head in Emme’s direction. Her fair complexion and long red hair bequeathed her with a striking beauty. I might have envied her—if she also hadn’t been bequeathed with royal bitchiness. “Yes. It does!” she snapped. “It also makes her a problem. Our problem.”
“Colleen,” Misha warned.
She dipped her head low enough so that the vee of her tight shirt showcased the crease between her enormous bosoms. “A thousand apologies, Master. But what are we to do if she develops a reaction?” She scoffed in my direction. “I’m fresh out of Benadryl.”
I cracked my knuckles and landed in front of her, kicking aside the pile of sticks I’d dropped. “No Benadryl necessary. Beating your ass will fix me right up.”
She hissed, her incisors protruding out, only to land with a hard thump on the dock. Her fair skin discolored and a small gurgle escaped her throat. I exchanged glances with my sisters.
Taran withdrew the fire from her fingertips. “Damn, Celia. I didn’t even see you strike.”
I slowly lowered my balled fists. “I didn’t touch her….”
With the exception of Colleen, who continued to lie like a dying slug, and Misha, all the vamps resumed their parade-rest position with their gazes firmly dropped. Misha stared out over the water, his arms crossed in front of him, his expression blank. Yet his deadly tone left nothing to the imagination. “I find it grating to remind my family that guests—especially those who are attempting to save our very lives—need to be respected. Colleen. Is there something you wish to say to Celia?”
“Ir-kie,” Colleen croaked.
Misha turned to me, smiling. “Colleen extends her deepest apologies, my darling.”
“Apology accepted,” I mumbled, stupefied by Colleen’s clay-colored lips.
Tahoe’s magic must have been potent enough to camouflage Misha’s own. I hadn’t caught even the slightest whiff of his power. Yet there it was, squashing Colleen to the pier like a woolly mammoth on a grape.