us or not? It’s just sex.”
Malachi ignored everything but her first comment. “Mike cares.”
Turning away from Mal, she closed her eyes. She had a sinking sensation low in her belly that Mike saw her more clearly than anybody. “We had sex. That is all.”
Mal just laughed. “When two people watch each other the way you two do, it never comes down to just sex.”
“He doesn’t watch me.” Leandra tried to forget the look in his eyes as he made love to her throughout the night. Not just the gentleness, not just the need. But the awe—almost as if he couldn’t believe he was touching her. Almost as if he felt the same way she did.
No. She wasn’t going to think about it.
She cast Malachi a cool glance over her shoulder. “Do you really see it being any more than that? Mike and me.” She laughed cynically and shook her head. There was no more for her. And oddly, the thought made her feel even more hollow now than it had before.
“Yes.”
Startled, she stared at him as the ancient one circled around to stand in front of her. Leaning against a massive oak, Mal stared at her. “You canna see what I see, can you?” he asked quietly. “You see the same woman you saw five years ago, and you hate her. But that woman is gone; she died the day you fought back.”
Grimly, she shook her head. “You can think what you want.” Turning on her heel, she stalked into the trees.
THE REMAINDER OF THE NIGHT PASSED WITHOUT ENCOUNTERING anything. Leandra was strung tight, and she would have loved the chance to loose her pent-up energy on something, but no such luck.
Mal had remained silent the rest of the night, and when they entered the house, he moved away, retreating to his rooms.
Leandra stomped into the library, seeking out the liquor cabinet and staring moodily at its contents. The burn of whiskey wouldn’t help, nor the smooth taste of vodka.
She kept hearing that bastard’s voice. Which is likely exactly what he wanted.
“She died the day you fought back . . .”
Could it really be that simple? Turning away from the cabinet, she walked over to the window, crossing her arms over her chest. It was still dark out.
Sunset was hours away, and she was trapped inside here, alone with her thoughts. Never a good thing , Leandra thought with a humorless smile.
Where was Mike?
And did he see what Malachi saw when he looked at her? A slow, wry smile curved her lips as she silently acknowledged that there were a few things that Mike probably saw that Mal was unaware of.
Thank God.
But . . . the rest. Did Mike see a witch of the Scythe or something else?
She touched her hand to the pane of glass, to the faint reflection she saw there. Leandra had no idea what to see when she saw herself. The bitter self-hatred she had felt for years had faded a little.
But acceptance? That was farther off.
It wasn’t the Change, though. Leandra hadn’t ever been normal. Suffering from a vampire’s bite, having another vampire feed her and guide her through the Change, while a bit odd to some, for a girl who had run away at the age of twelve and found herself living with a bunch of vamps, shifters, and witches, it wasn’t even what she could call strange.
Even before Leandra had been bitten, she had suffered these same dark thoughts, asked herself the same questions.
Who am I?
And lately, there had been a voice whispering back, Who do you want to be?
She leaned her brow against the glass and closed her eyes.
There were answers somewhere but she didn’t even know where to look. Part of her was deathly afraid to even try.
Pushing back from the window, she shook her head. It was too late for such dark thoughts. If she kept thinking like this, she wouldn’t sleep and unlike some of the vampires in this Enclave, she was still young enough that she needed to.
Her room was in the basement of the western wing. Most young vampires felt more secure when they were farthest from the sunrise, and Leandra was no
Malachi ignored everything but her first comment. “Mike cares.”
Turning away from Mal, she closed her eyes. She had a sinking sensation low in her belly that Mike saw her more clearly than anybody. “We had sex. That is all.”
Mal just laughed. “When two people watch each other the way you two do, it never comes down to just sex.”
“He doesn’t watch me.” Leandra tried to forget the look in his eyes as he made love to her throughout the night. Not just the gentleness, not just the need. But the awe—almost as if he couldn’t believe he was touching her. Almost as if he felt the same way she did.
No. She wasn’t going to think about it.
She cast Malachi a cool glance over her shoulder. “Do you really see it being any more than that? Mike and me.” She laughed cynically and shook her head. There was no more for her. And oddly, the thought made her feel even more hollow now than it had before.
“Yes.”
Startled, she stared at him as the ancient one circled around to stand in front of her. Leaning against a massive oak, Mal stared at her. “You canna see what I see, can you?” he asked quietly. “You see the same woman you saw five years ago, and you hate her. But that woman is gone; she died the day you fought back.”
Grimly, she shook her head. “You can think what you want.” Turning on her heel, she stalked into the trees.
THE REMAINDER OF THE NIGHT PASSED WITHOUT ENCOUNTERING anything. Leandra was strung tight, and she would have loved the chance to loose her pent-up energy on something, but no such luck.
Mal had remained silent the rest of the night, and when they entered the house, he moved away, retreating to his rooms.
Leandra stomped into the library, seeking out the liquor cabinet and staring moodily at its contents. The burn of whiskey wouldn’t help, nor the smooth taste of vodka.
She kept hearing that bastard’s voice. Which is likely exactly what he wanted.
“She died the day you fought back . . .”
Could it really be that simple? Turning away from the cabinet, she walked over to the window, crossing her arms over her chest. It was still dark out.
Sunset was hours away, and she was trapped inside here, alone with her thoughts. Never a good thing , Leandra thought with a humorless smile.
Where was Mike?
And did he see what Malachi saw when he looked at her? A slow, wry smile curved her lips as she silently acknowledged that there were a few things that Mike probably saw that Mal was unaware of.
Thank God.
But . . . the rest. Did Mike see a witch of the Scythe or something else?
She touched her hand to the pane of glass, to the faint reflection she saw there. Leandra had no idea what to see when she saw herself. The bitter self-hatred she had felt for years had faded a little.
But acceptance? That was farther off.
It wasn’t the Change, though. Leandra hadn’t ever been normal. Suffering from a vampire’s bite, having another vampire feed her and guide her through the Change, while a bit odd to some, for a girl who had run away at the age of twelve and found herself living with a bunch of vamps, shifters, and witches, it wasn’t even what she could call strange.
Even before Leandra had been bitten, she had suffered these same dark thoughts, asked herself the same questions.
Who am I?
And lately, there had been a voice whispering back, Who do you want to be?
She leaned her brow against the glass and closed her eyes.
There were answers somewhere but she didn’t even know where to look. Part of her was deathly afraid to even try.
Pushing back from the window, she shook her head. It was too late for such dark thoughts. If she kept thinking like this, she wouldn’t sleep and unlike some of the vampires in this Enclave, she was still young enough that she needed to.
Her room was in the basement of the western wing. Most young vampires felt more secure when they were farthest from the sunrise, and Leandra was no
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