Elias curled a hand lightly around her throat. “You’re strong as hell, baby, but in my world you’re fragile.” A muscle slid up and down in his cheek. “You love the truth from me? The idea of turning you terrifies the hell out of me. You know it’s not always successful.”
Pulse skittering, she nodded. When a vampire drained a human of blood and infused them with venom from their fangs, it produced varying results. Timing and circumstances were huge. If the human was bloodless a moment too long before the venom took effect, it was lights out. Ginny almost hadn’t survived it. Wouldn’t have, if she hadn’t taken Jonas’s blood in return.
His fingertip traced down the side curve of her neck, lingering over where he’d bitten her in the dressing room. “Have you thought about it?”
The magnitude of what they were talking about—eternal life—made her breathing grow short. “Yes.”
Elias’s eyelids drooped and she could tell he was willing his fangs to stay hidden. “I think it’s best if I make you sleep,” he said hoarsely. “Now.”
Roksana knew he was right. With all the changes taking place and so many unknowns hovering over their heads, it was too tempting to take control of something. Relinquishing her humanity couldn’t be a rash decision.
Sleep. Okay. That meant Elias compelling her, because she definitely wouldn’t manage it on her own. Having her will taken away wasn’t something she did easily, but she did need her batteries recharged. Plus, she liked giving Elias this proof that she trusted him. “Promise not to draw a Sharpie mustache on my face.”
The corner of his lips jumped. “I’ll try and control myself.”
“Do you need my blood first?” she whispered, leaning in to graze their lips together.
With a stuttered groan, Elias sampled the inside of her mouth with his tongue. “I will wait.” He captured her jaw in his hand, holding her steady as his gaze lit gradually with a warm glow that she couldn’t look away from. Her thoughts grew fuzzy, her neck loosening, but the energy snapping in his eyes held her in thrall. “Sleep now,” Elias said, his voice resonation like a gong in an enclosed space, the potency of it reaching into her brain and flipping an off switch.
Consciousness rose and set once during the journey, the sound of the voices filtering in through the dusky glow surrounding her. Talk of refueling the plane and time zones and estimates on their arrival time. She had the vague sense they’d landed in Paris to service the plane, before Elias kissed her forehead and she dropped back off the face of the earth again.
When she woke fully, it didn’t happen in degrees. She snapped into alertness, springing up on the soft leather seat on which she’d been sleeping lengthways. In the absence of the engine’s rumble, she guessed they’d landed and her theory proved correct when Elias stepped from behind the dividing wall between them and the cockpit.
“Hey, we’ve landed in Moscow.”
She eyed the blacked out windows. “It’s okay to go outside?”
He nodded once. “With the time difference, it’s already nighttime here,” he said gruffly, reaching over her head and retrieving a heavy blanket, wrapping it around her body. “Damn, I missed your eyes.”
Without giving her a chance to respond, Elias scooped her up without preamble and strode for the door. Cold air numbed her face almost immediately. She was home. Yet there was nothing welcoming about it. Sleep had given her focus and it was already channeling itself into trepidation of what was to come, stiffening her spine and parching her throat.
Desperate for some sense of control, she wormed free of Elias’s hold so she could walk on her own down the stairs leading to the night-blanketed tarmac.
Men in heavy coats and ushanka hats moved in a swarm around the plane, breath exiting their mouths in rolling white plumes. Not a single one of them lifted their heads when Roksana and Elias disembarked. Elias took her hand and guided her to a waiting black town car. While someone put their meager luggage in the trunk, they settled into the backseat, their hands automatically seeking and clasping on the seat.
Roksana opened her mouth to tell the driver where to take them—she knew a cheap but safe hotel in the Lefortovo District where they could regroup and plan, but Elias beat her to the punch.
“St. Andronicus Monastery, please.”
She frowned as the car lurched forward, speeding through the empty airfield. “A church in the middle of the night? Why?” Wordlessly, Elias met her gaze and the intensity reflected back there raised goosebumps on every inch of her body. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m always serious.” His grip tightened on hers. “I applied for the marriage license before I left Moscow.”
Roksana’s heart climbed into her mouth, fluttering with a mixture of alarm and joy. “But…you are really holding me to this? Now? When everything is bonkers?”