He resisted the urge to cradle her in his arms. She always strove for independence, and it seemed he kept taking it away. “I already have.”
She nodded, a sad look in her eyes.
“It’s not like we’ll never go back to Chicago. You just need time to adjust.” He moved so she’d have to see him. “Clementine stayed to help.”
Her gaze darted to meet his, then away again. “Really?”
He dipped his chin in agreement.
“So I’m not alone?”
Sharp and burning, her question stabbed into his heart with more power than a wooden stake. How could she feel like this when he stood a few inches from her? She'd never suffer loneliness as long as blood coursed through his veins. Their definitions of company obviously weren't the same.
Tugging on his jeans, he struggled to keep his gaze off her. “I’ll send her in.” His words came out clipped. He deserved her scorn. Didn’t mean it hurt any less. He grabbed his armor and T-shirt.
“What are you doing tonight?” she called out.
Chapter Fifteen
Daedalus halted at their bedroom door. “I need to contact my nest and those still loyal to me. I need to confirm that I have returned to my place as Prime before rumors start spreading.” He wore a mask of cold indifference, resembling Pallas and making it difficult for Sugar to discern what he was thinking.
She had hurt his feelings. It didn’t take a genius to see this. She wrapped her arms around her chest, hoping to ease the sudden ache inside. Why did she care? He deserved whatever pain she could inflict, but she couldn’t erase years of love in one night. Not for what he’d done or why he’d done it. Her hand traveled to her throat of its own accord, and she yanked it away. “Who was the vampire who attacked me?”
“One of the traitors.”
She rolled her eyes. “Did he have a name?”
He frowned. “Why?”
“I think I have a right to know who—who did this to me.” She pointed at her fangs. Maybe it would help to know her murderer.
“Tom.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Just Tom?” Why was he so resistant to tell her?
“Thomas Carignan. He’d been in my service for two hundred years and was someone I considered a friend. If I’d known he was capable of hurting someone I loved, I would have torn him in half and fed him to some stray dogs.” He spun about and slammed the door shut.
A void sucked the warmth from the room. The click of the knob echoed in the bedroom, which had just been filled with the noise of their passion.
She blinked. “Oh.” Her murderer had been his friend. Someone he once cared for. When he called them traitors, she’d thought he meant they betrayed the company, not him personally, but Pal Robi Inc. was Daedalus Pal Robi. Wasn’t it? It was funny how they needed to yell and hurt each other to communicate. A truce seemed distant, if not impossible. She nodded to herself.
Shivers ran over her flesh. This was a second chance that most couples never got. Things like how excited she’d been when her fangs pierced his skin or how great the blood had tasted rolling over her parched tongue shouldn’t bother her. She glared at her reflection. Right?
She snatched her shoe by the bed and aimed it at the mirror. How many did she have to break before being able to meet her own stare? She dropped the projectile and raced to the showers. Turning on the hot water, she filled the room with steam so she couldn’t see anymore. The shivers melted under the assault of the stinging water, and she leaned against the tile, absorbing the heat.
The Sugar she used to be was no longer part of her, but she had started to fade away long before Daedalus changed her fate. No, not Daedalus, Thomas was the one who killed her. Daedalus had tried to save her the only way he knew how.
The conversation she'd shared with Pallas while watching television haunted her. The way she treated him, without a good measure of healthy fear, was an excellent example of how much she’d grown accustom to vampires and shifters. Of how much she’d changed.
Did she even have any human friends left? Ever since being in the hospital, she hadn’t been able to return to work in the public libraries. None of her coworkers visited anymore. Even the Vasi considered her pack, though not an ounce of shifter blood ran in her veins.
She stared at her fisted hands. Being a vampire didn’t mean she needed to go out and kill a village. When she’d smelled the blood in the cup, the urge to hunt hadn’t taken control. Hunger had, but she’d been hungry like that as human and had pounced on a hot fudge sundae with more viciousness than the blood in the cup.
The stroke had changed her perception of who she was. Maybe being a vampire would help claim back who she once had been.
She dried off and dressed.
Someone knocked on the door. It was too light for a Nosferatu’s big fist.
“Come in, Clementine.”
The tall vampire peeked inside, her gaze growing guarded at the sight of Sugar's attire. “You look like you’re going to a funeral.” Crossing the room, Clementine took her hands within her grasp. “How are you feeling?”
Sugar had dressed in all black for a reason. The clothes clung to her body since she’d put on some healthy weight with the change. “Pissed off, disoriented, and—and motivated.” She could walk and dance, maybe even run. The grim reaper wasn't her shadow anymore.
“Understandable.” Clementine hesitated and gave her a shy smile. “You’re beautiful.” Then she cleared her throat. “I mean, I never knew you before the accident. Your transformation is amazing. Daedalus must have seen you by now.”
Heat burned a path over Sugar’s cheeks. “Yes.” Her voice had grown husky at recalling his impassioned cries. Experienced warrior or not, Daedalus had fallen to his knees by her doing.
“I can’t wait until it’s safe for the others to see you. Spice will be so happy!”
“Why did you stay?” They’d never been close. Clementine was Sam’s shadow most of the time, barely speaking to anyone but Daedalus.
She withdrew her grasp. “Sam was worried and, uh, I thought I could be of help.” Shrugging, she sat on the edge of the bed, her gaze downcast. “I was turned against my will too, so I have an idea of what you’re going through.”
“No one ever mentioned that.”
“It’s not something I’m eager to share.” Clementine gave her a watery smile. “Usually. Sam knows. I just wanted to give you someone to lean on. If you need it.”
“I’m not sure where to begin. My insides are all twisted. Every time I see Daedalus I’m torn between loving him and the urge to stake him.”
Clementine chuckled. “Sounds like marriage.”
Sugar snorted at the comparison, but Clementine was right. How did she know? Sugar gasped. “Did Daedalus turn you against your will?” Was Clementine’s fate her future? Sugar knew she couldn’t have been the only woman he’d loved, but to toss her in the face of an old flame seemed cruel even by Nosferatu standards.
Clementine shook her head vigorously. “No, he saved me from the one who had, though. You have to understand, Sugar, my old master changed me for profit. I was no more than a slave to him. When all seemed bleak and a long walk to greet the dawn sounded like my only escape, Daedalus gave me a second chance.”
“You can’t expect me to jump for joy at being turned.”
Clementine sighed. “It’s fine to be angry at him, but he did it only out of love. You didn’t see him…” Fiddling with the edge of her sweater, she appeared much younger than her hundred or so years. “He abandoned us at the empty house. Something must have tipped him off that they were attacking here. Maybe it was Pallas. I’ve never seen a Nosferatu use their speed so publicly before. It should be all over the news, if not on YouTube, by now.”