The Red Lily (Vampire Blood #2)(90)

She lay on her side facing him, curling her knees up. He kept his hand where it was between them. "Tell me about it."

He refocused on the ceiling, his breathing returning to normal. "I can't."

A single thought shot straight to her, the vicious words of Volkov as he gloated over her. That anyone could love the former lieutenant, a monster in his own day from what I understand, is quite a shock.

She didn't know how, but whatever disturbed Nikolai now had to do with what Volkov said. It was an intuition, homing in on the source of his pain that spoke to her of Volkov's accusation and what she knew was true. Nikolai was still haunted by some past sin he kept close to his breast.



       
         
       
        

"Tell me, Nikolai. What is it that shadows your eyes so often? What are you afraid of?"

Silvery blue eyes shot to hers, flaring bright with his emotions riding high. "I can't," he repeated.

Needing to soothe him, to heal him desperately, she combed her fingers into his hair along his temple when a flash of memory pulsed through her. Not her memory, but his.

Absolute euphoria flooded his veins mingled with guilt, dread, and horror. Staring down at a beautiful dark-haired woman, her eyes glassy and lifeless, the vicious bite mark on her neck still trailing blood and pooling on the white sheet beneath her head. Head swimming, intoxicated with the potent mixture of blood and something else. He ran out of the bedroom and through the next chamber where Legionnaires laughed boisterously, some with whores propped on their laps, some feeding, some grunting on top of their women …

Sienna snapped back to the present, knowing full well she had witnessed a vision, a memory. Nikolai's memory.

"You didn't mean to kill her, did you?"

He flinched and stared at her, perfectly still. "What did you say?"

"The prostitute. The one you killed while feeding. You didn't mean to do it."

He bolted out of bed and peered down at her. "How-how could you possibly know?"

"I just saw it. I think … I think it is because of the hartstone."

He stared in silence for a full minute, his expression one full of loathing and disgust-for himself. "How can you even bear to look at me?" he asked, self-hatred lining his face as he paced away from her toward the hearth and stirred the coals with the fire-iron.

Sienna slipped out of bed and put on a muslin wrap. She joined him, settling on the sofa and tucking her feet beneath her. Still nude, he stacked two more logs on the fire that he'd brought in last night.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked.

"No. I'm a bloody vampire, remember?" He stabbed the coals with the fire-iron, anger feeding his jerking movements.

He finally stood, bracing both hands on the mantel, inhaling and exhaling deep breaths. Sienna understood in that swift memory she'd stolen that guilt had racked him for ages for his crime. She also understood that in that moment of recognition of what he'd done, he was confused and horrified and intoxicated with something other than blood. It was a mistake and unintentional.

She roved his perfect body, the sinewy muscles down the side of his torso, his hips, his legs outlined in firelight, his golden hair falling forward. He was so perfectly beautiful that her heart fluttered. For he was hers. Without a thought or a care, she said what was on her mind.

"You are a beautiful man, Nikolai. Inside and out." 

He looked in her direction, the firelight gilding his square jaw, pensive brow, and sensuous lips, proving him more than beautiful. Breathtaking.

"Don't say that," he bit out. "There is nothing beautiful about me."

"You are so wrong," she said gently.

"How can you possibly say that after seeing what I've done?"

She shrugged a shoulder. "I didn't just see what you did. I felt it. No, more than that even. I read the motivations of those in your memory, the Legionnaires that were there. They'd gotten you drunk on purpose. I believe they even used a hallucinogen to loosen your inhibitions. Then they put you alone in a room with a willing prostitute, and your vampire took over, unable to control the bloodlust."

He stared at her in profound disbelief.

"It wasn't your fault, Nikolai."

"Of course it was. I drank her to death. I murdered her to satisfy my hunger and the beast who lives inside me." He pounded his fist upon his chest over his heart, his voice a guttural growl. "I don't"-he squeezed his eyes shut-"I don't know how I did something like that. I can't let myself lose control … around you." He opened his eyes, blue-fire gaze burning back at her. "It would kill me." The last he said in a broken whisper.