He’d spent their two years apart as he always spent his time: trolling for monsters the world was ready to be rid of and consuming them; teaching, which oddly brought him more satisfaction than nearly every other distraction he used to keep himself from invading her life in the way he wanted to; and dealing. Antiques and art was an easy avenue for anyone of his kind if they cared enough to follow the history of the world as it evolved around them through the centuries. He enjoyed it, he was good at it, and it made him a wealthy, wealthy vampire—just a very lonely one.
He’d not had a single woman in his bed since making love to Ember, and more than that, he’d not had anyone but her from the moment she first tried to kiss him when she was no more than seventeen. Her first sign of interest in him was all it took for him to let down his guard and allow himself to feel what he truly wanted to feel for her—the child he’d watched grow up to a woman. He knew her whole life story as though it were his own, and he felt more close to her than any other person in all his three hundred long years. The most painful part of that equation was of course the fact she had no discernible knowledge of him, and sadly, her life was safest this way. His kind valued their privacy and ability to function in a world that would wish them dead and demonize them were they to know the truth.
Vampires had once terrorized and tormented civilizations of people, but that was a dark past far before his own birth. There was no purpose to destroying innocence, and like many practices of old, their own need to kill and pillage was curbed by their need to be civil. And so, the moral vampire was born. Not moral in the sense of perfection by any means, but moral in the sense that coexisting was far easier and more advantageous than being feared and demonized as monsters. So, they had rules that governed them.
The rules were simple, and while the consequence of breaking a rule was mandated by region and not the world at large, nearly every council that governed a region were in agreement on the rules themselves. The council that oversaw the East Coast region of the United States held stiff punishment for breaking the rules, more so than most other regions. If a rule was broken in his region, the vampire responsible would likely be destroyed. Rule number one: don’t kill innocents; rule number two: don’t turn humans; and rule number three: don’t be known. If an innocent was killed in the Eastern third of the U.S., the vampire would be destroyed in return. If a human was turned, the human would be killed, and the vampire would likely join them. If a vampire allowed himself to be seen, they again risked the life of the human and their own as well. While the rules of the vampire kind protected humans, vampires as a whole would never choose humans over their own protection and secrecy, and great lengths would be taken to protect the secrecy of their existence. The rules themselves were in fact designed to protect the knowledge of their existence from the world.
Truman’s relationship with Ember was inappropriate from the start, but how could he pull himself away from the frightened ten-year-old he’d met naked in a cold, terrifying basement on the day that was supposed to be her torturous death?
He couldn’t live with himself if he jeopardized her life, but he also had to be close to her. And so he watched. He watched her, desperate for her touch, her scent, her body that fit him so perfectly. He dreamed of her and let his fantasies sustain him. When he heard of the passing of her would-be professor, he sought out the position. He didn’t wait for it to post or for the position to be offered to another of the faculty on staff. He offered as a favor, he said, but the favor was to him alone. It hadn’t been difficult. No professor was chomping at the bit to fill in a last-minute evening class during the summer term, and they were thrilled to have a Harvard professor.
What he had truly done, though, was signed himself up for more torture than he could likely handle. He recognized her scent the moment he walked through the door. It was the first time he’d allowed himself to get close enough to her to experience it. When her arousal built at his calculated and well-executed looks, tone, and touch, he took in the sweet and intoxicating smell of her. Even watching her humiliate herself and nearly knock herself out had his heart thudding and racing in need. And when he’d given into his desire and put his hands on her when they were finally alone, it was with the utmost pain and resolve that he kept himself from releasing her mind and letting her see him and what he could give her before fucking her on the desk. He may be a patient man, but patient or no, he was starved for her.
He really was flirting with disaster, but he was in love with the disaster.
Chapter 6
Running into Ember a few days later as she was grocery shopping was no mistake. Of course it wasn’t. Truman didn’t eat, so there was little reason for him to have a basket full of groceries as he rounded the corner of an aisle, conveniently letting her run right into him. As her body met his, he reached to her shoulder to steady her as she nervously laughed. He felt an instant pang of guilt, having tricked her into seeing him again, but his guilt soon melted away as she smiled her sweet and shy smile that made his dead heart come alive.
She was wearing baggy, navy blue jogging pants and a gray T-shirt, with her long brown hair pulled up in a high ponytail. She was as casual as he’d ever seen her out. She’d kept the nose ring all these long years since she’d first gotten it, and it was a subtle hint of her strong fighting spirit. She wore no makeup, and it was obvious she left her apartment with no intention of being seen by anyone she knew. She looked stunning. Her skin looked soft and clean, and he wanted to taste it, kiss it. Her eyes were crystalline blue, and she wore no perfume, which he preferred on her. He was able to smell her skin and her personal scent without the mask of some engineered fragrance. Could he do as he wished with her, he’d want nothing more than to strip her down naked and kiss, lick, and taste every last inch of her body, but as he held her shoulder gently in his hand, he just smiled his subtle smile.
She instantly blushed, and as her gaze flitted from his own, he spoke. “Ember. It’s good to see you. How’s the head.” It had been only a few days since their first class, and he was guessing she still had something of a knot where she’d hit her head. As she reached to the back of her head inadvertently, she scrunched up her face and shook her head in embarrassment. She was just so damn cute, and he smiled as the flush of her cheeks reinvigorated.
“Yeah … I don’t know how that happened. It’s fine… So, you’re … umm … shopping for…” First nodding her head and then shaking her head in nervousness and unfound words. “Food?” Her cheeks had not cooled in the least, and she fanned her face and blew out an exaggerated breath. He was making her so incredibly uncomfortable, and he could smell her adrenal hormones flooding her body as she panicked. He wanted to calm her, but as his hand met her forearm to gently reassure her, she exhaled another calming breath, and he listened as her heart pounded furiously. So much for calming her.
They walked together to the checkout counter, and her heart slowed, and she relaxed at his side. He watched every last item that was pulled from her basket, feeling exceptionally nosy. And he made small talk as his own items were scanned and bagged; it was for no other reason than to keep her from leaving. They walked out together, and as he held her door open so she could load her bags, he watched her bend and stoop, enjoying the sight so much his teeth ached and his groin tightened. Her bottom was incredible, and even in baggy sweatpants, he could clearly see the round cheeks when she bent over. Her ponytail bobbed off to the side of her head and showed the line of the back of her neck as she bent. He imagined his mouth on her neck, trailing his tongue over her skin as he plucked at her small, tight nipples. When she rose and faced him, his gaze moved down to her braless breasts before he could stop it. Her nipples were hard and erect under the fabric of her T-shirt, and when his eyes quickly found hers again, she was watching him with parted lips, and her arousal hit his senses.