Finally.
I take her shoulders. “Amber Alard, do you know that your family has been part of enchanted circles who were in service to vampire families forcenturies?”
She blinks rapidly. “What?”
“Your sister never told you?” I shake my head—but it’s not disbelief. It’srelief. “Resistance to UV light using jewelry or items spelled by witches.”
“I don’t understand.”
I squeeze her shoulders. She slides her hands over my fingers but not to pull them away. A smile forces my cheeks to puff with joy. “Your sister has magical blood. You must have inherited much the same from your mother.”
“What?”
“I’ve considered the association before, but not quite like this. Not until this—” I yanked on the vest, tearing one of the seams. No matter. She’ll fix it. She’s good at that. “You made this vest. What were you thinking while you made it?”
Crimson clouds coat her cheeks. She’s staring at my chest where my pendant should be resting, her brow creased with equal parts concentration and defiance. What she’s thinking is either hard to articulate—or something she doesn’t wish to admit.
But we’re connected now. Whether we want to be or not. And she’s servicing me far more than merely providing sustenance.
Her lower lip shudders. “I was thinking... that I want you to be protected.”
“Me? Specifically, me?”
She meets my gaze.
The boldness in her eyes sends a bolt of desire through me.
She nods once. “Yes.”
“Amber,” I whisper. “Either your blood is much like your sister’s or…”
She inhales sharply. “Or?”
“Or you can quite literally spell clothing with your fingers.”
Chapter 11
Amber
Icanspellclothingwith my fingers.
Listen, Tessa never mentioned how her blood could quell the lustful thirst of a cursed king. She didn’t exactly spell all that out before she left to conquer the other kingdom.
I close my eyes while resting my fingers on a newly commissioned piece. Of course, Lolita has been working my fingers to the bone. Darius has already chastised her three times for barging into my suite unannounced.
The looks that Lolita tosses over her shoulder at my vampire protectively encasing me with his arm are enough to make me shiver. Pain radiates from my fingertip. I frown while opening my eyes, realizing how I’ve just pricked my finger.Again.
Because I was thinking about Darius instead of focusing.
Come on. He’s just a selfish idiot who’s obsessed with his research. He just wants results. He doesn’t want me. The thought stings a bit more than the needle in my finger.Gee, why the hell would he ever want me as more than a bloodbag? He’s not like his brother.
But that’s just the thing. They’re Rodins. They’re related by blood. As my sister is to me. Wouldn’t it naturally follow that my enchanted blood—Darius’s words, not mine—would do something similar to him?
Stormy thoughts shove my eyebrows together, crowding over the bridge of my nose, scrunching my face up with the possibilities shuffling through my skull.
Well, that’s the thing, too, seeing as Darius isn’t riddled with bloodlust. Just watching the way he interacts with the new bloodbags was plenty enough evidence that he doesn’t have a drinking problem like his brother. He’s not cursed.
Yet because of my sewing, he can walk freely in the day.