“I won’t.” Pushing myself to my tiptoes, I pecked his cheek. “Come back to me.”
“I will.”
Reaching down and cupping the back of my neck, Sebastian drew me towards him. His mouth moved against mine with the skill of someone who had been alive for centuries—he was forceful, but his every movement was thoughtful. He kissed me like I was the only person in the world.
He kissed me like he loved me.
“Be careful,” I whispered against his lips.
Sebastian winked at me, taking a step back as shadows swirled around him. “Darling, I’m always careful.”
I scoffed, but before I could say anything, he disappeared into the shadows. I held my breath, waiting to see if that horrible pain would erupt in my stomach. It never came.
It seemed as though we were safe.
For now.
* * *
The already smallroom seemed to shrink further with every passing minute. An old clock hung on the wall, ticking ominously. Each stroke was a reminder that time was passing and Sebastian still wasn’t back.
I ate my dinner; the stew sitting like one of the bricks from the fireplace in my stomach, and I waited. The ale did nothing to ease my anxiety. A heavy knot formed, and I twisted my fingers together as I waited.
Everything was too loud. The privacy ward Sebastian had erected did nothing to silence the sounds of the inn. Males and females alike found their pleasure, their cries mixing with murmured conversations coming from below.
When my mug of ale had been empty for some time and Sebastian had yet to return, the knot worsened. It twisted like the ragged ends of a frayed rope, and I felt sick. By the time the first rays of sunlight were visible, Sebastian was the only thing on my mind. I paced back and forth, trying to figure out what to do.
He hadn’t said how long he would be, but the sun was coming up. Vampires couldn’t be out in the sun, right? This was bad. I had to warn him. If not for his safety then the fact that we still had to talk about what he said.
He loved me.
I still couldn’t believe it.
Now, I was doubting everything. Maybe my stepmother Ysabel was right. Perhaps love did exist. Confusion roiled through me. What was love? I wished there was a scientific method that I could use to deduce whether what I felt was love. Why wasn’t there a list that I could check off?
Sebastian was my first thought when I woke and the last person on my mind as I drifted off to sleep. I cared for him more than anyone else in my entire life. When I was around him, my heart beat faster and my entire body gravitated toward him.
Was this love? I wasn’t sure. What I did know was that I needed him.
That thought propelled me to stand and pull on my cloak. I would rather Sebastian be alive and angry with me than dead. Especially since I was less than pleased about being told to stay in this room while he went off without me.
A crash came from downstairs, and I tugged on my boots. Yanking on my gloves and making sure my Binding Mark was hidden, I pulled my hood over my hair. I was being reckless, but I wasn’t stupid.
Once I was dressed, I scoured the room for something that could be used as a weapon. Although I wasn’t a trained soldier, it seemed wise to arm myself with something in the event that I needed to defend myself.
My quick search found little of worth. The space was small and sparsely furnished. I was about to leave with just the butter knife when I noticed a small crack in the mortar holding the bricks in the fireplace together. Wielding my blade, I chipped at the mortar until a red brick came loose.
It was heavy in my hand and my arm was unused to the weight, but it was better than nothing. Before I could talk myself out of what was probably—most likely—a very bad idea, I grabbed the room key. Unlocking the door, I pressed my ear to the wood.
A chorus of moans filtered through the thin walls, but I didn’t hear anything else.
This is for Sebastian.
Mustering up my courage, I pulled open the door and glanced around. A row of closed and presumably locked doors ran down the length of the hallway. The purple lights, which had grown as familiar as firelight by now, flickered as I slipped out of our room.
Gripping my brick beneath the folds of my cloak, I shut the door behind me and dropped the key into my pocket. The stairs were right ahead, and I started down them.
I took them one step at a time; the floorboards creaked beneath my feet. It was dark, and I moved slowly, not wanting to attract attention. My heart pounded and my hands grew clammy around the brick as I inched down the stairs. I made it down six steps before I picked up the sounds of quiet conversation.