Bran is quiet on the drive back to Duval House. Quiet and distant. He parks beneath the porte cochère and hands the keys off to a girl who avoids his eyes. He doesn’t say a word to her or me as he guides me through the house and toward the back where French doors lead to what looks like a courtyard.
Something is wrong. But I don’t know how to help him.
Right now, I can sense his energy literally vibrating through his body. I don’t think now is the time to have a conversation, but I’m not going to let us go to bed without tackling it.
Because we have to talk about it. We have to talk about all of it.
‘Jimmy,’ Bran says.
Jimmy appears within seconds. She’s wearing the most adorable denim overalls rolled at the ankles. She’s barefoot with paint splattered across her toes and smudged across the front pocket of the overalls. Her arrival disrupts the air around us and she brings with her the scent of something woody and floral.
‘Hi,’ she says and looks from me back to Bran. I’ve noticed Jimmy is always watching Bran when she’s near, like a snake charmer might watch a snake, making sure it isn’t ready to strike.
I don’t know what their relationship is, but Bran did admit that he’d die for Jimmy. I think Jimmy might feel the same way about him.
I would be lying if I said that didn’t stir a little bit of envy. Jimmy clearly knows him better than I do and I have a lot of ground to cover to even match her depth of knowing.
‘Take my little mouse to the Anneliese,’ Bran says.
I have no idea what that is.
‘Show her to a shower and get her some clean clothes.’
‘Wait, where are you going?’ I grab his arm, feeling him pull away from me. Last time I was left alone in Duval House, Sky sought me out and turned everything upside down.
It’s hard to say how she feels about me now.
‘I have to see my brother,’ Bran answers. ‘The Anneliese will keep you safe. And so will Jimmy.’
Jimmy nods.
‘Clean up, mouse,’ he adds with a smug grin.
I’m a mess, covered in blood and cum. I desperately need a shower and the promise of one has me salivating. But…I don’t want him to leave either.
‘I’ll be back soon,’ he says and slides his hand around my neck, dragging me in. The kiss he plants on my forehead is featherlight, but his grip is firm and I want to melt beneath the pressure.
But then he’s pulling away.
Jimmy rushes ahead to stop him and the two exchange words. They’re nothing more than a whisper and I can’t hear what’s said.
When Jimmy turns back to me, Bran is already gone.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say.
‘For what?’
‘Well, because you’re babysitting me again.’
She reaches out for one of the handles on the French doors. ‘Do you think the secret service rolls their eyes every time they’re tasked with guarding someone?’
Jimmy gestures for me to head outside and we walk into an open-air courtyard beneath the starlit sky.
‘I’m not the president of the United States.’
‘No, but you’re valued by Bran. That makes you important. I have a duty to this house and to Damien and Bran. I don’t care what the task is. I’ll do it.’
She walks ahead of me on the stone-paved path. It’s a short walk through well-tended flowering bushes. Soft solar lights illuminate the path and somewhere to my left, a water feature gurgles in the dark.
We stop beneath the overhanging roof of a building separate from Duval House.
‘Is this the Anneliese?’ I ask.
Jimmy nods and punches a code into a digital panel beside the door. The panel beeps and a deadbolt clanks open.
‘It’s deeded to a human who doesn’t live anywhere near here. Only Bran, Damien, and myself have been invited.”
‘Why’s it called the Anneliese?’
We step inside. The air is cool and smells clean.
‘It’s named after Damien and Bran’s little sister.’
‘They have a sister?’
‘Had,’ Jimmy corrects.
‘Oh god. That’s…’
‘A long story,’ she finishes.
‘Right. Of course.’
The Anneliese is open floor plan in the front. Directly to my left is a dining table nestled in a room done entirely in glass. Even though it’s dark, I can tell the room is surrounded in greenery outside so that it must feel like you’re dining in the forest.
There’s a kitchen to the far left, and a living room to the far right, with a cozy seating area directly to the right of the front door.
A wide hallway runs through the center of the house and appears to break off left and right at the end.
‘Come this way,’ Jimmy says. ‘Bran’s room is down here. There’s an attached bathroom.’
‘Is my sister here?’ I ask.
‘Yes, but I believe she’s already sleeping. She’ll be in Damien’s room down the hall if you want to check in on her.’
I eye the closed door. ‘No, that’s all right. She’s been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours. Better to let her rest.’
But I’m so damn relieved we’re beneath the same roof, protected by the Duvals.
We enter Bran’s room. This is…what, the third place of his I’ve been to in so many days? There are more black and white photographs hung on the wall. The bedding is an exact match to the bedding he has at the house next to ours.
It’s so decidedly him that it makes me immediately feel at home.
‘Shower is through there.’ Jimmy points at a closed door to the left of the bed. ‘I’ll get you some clothes and will leave them on the end of the bed.’
‘Thanks, Jimmy.’
She gives my shoulder a squeeze. ‘Don’t mention it.’
When she leaves me, I strip off my clothes, toss them in the trash, and immediately jump into the shower. God, the hot water feels amazing. I’m learning to accept that being around Bran will always be bloody, but damn if my germaphobe OCD-self isn’t crying a little inside.
As promised, I find folded clothes waiting for me on the end of the bed. There’s a pair of sleep shorts made of soft linen and a tank top and panties. Jimmy has found me a lounge bra, but I go without.
Once I’m clean and dressed, I pace the hallway outside the room. I find Jimmy keeping watch in the sitting area, giving her a clear view of Duval House and the courtyard. She’s reading a book and gives me a smile when I come out.
‘How long do you think Bran will be?’ I ask. It’s nearing 4 am now. Where the hell is he?
‘With Bran and Damien, it’s always hard to tell,’ Jimmy responds. ‘I haven’t heard anything to cause me to worry.’
‘Okay. Will you let me know if you do?’
“Of course.”
What if they went to confront Julian? I’m sure he’s up and on his feet now, having healed from the broken neck.
I bet he’s burning with rage.
Can Bran and Damien take him and Locke House? I’m sure they can but not if they’re ambushed.
Bran better be okay, goddamn it. Just thinking about something happening to him makes my stomach knot up.
I busy myself with a glass of water from the kitchen, then get nosy at the bookshelves in the living room as I wait. I spend a half hour flicking through a book about eighteenth century France until I can’t stop yawning and decide to give in.
‘Goodnight, Jimmy,’ I call.
She looks up from her book. ‘Night. Let me know if you need me.’
In the bedroom, I climb in beneath the soft sheets of Bran’s bed and am disappointed they don’t smell like him. My eyes are burning I’m so tired, but I can’t sleep. I toss and turn. The digital clock on the dresser says it’s after five now. The sun will be up soon.
Where is he?
Finally, I hear the front door click closed and the air part in the bedroom a second later.
‘Bran?’ I ask the dark.
‘I’m here, little mouse.’ His voice is hoarse and quiet.
‘Where have you been? I’ve been worried.’ I slip from the bed and reach over to click on the bedside lamp. ‘You could have call—’
Light fills the room and I catch sight of him.
He’s covered in blood.
So much blood.
‘What happened?’ I rush over to him, the panic tightening like a band across my chest. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘It’s not mine,’ he says.
‘Then who—Julian?’
He ignores me and goes to the bathroom and starts stripping, adding his bloody clothes to the pile of mine in the trash can.
It’s been a bloody, violent night.
‘The who doesn’t matter,’ he answers once he’s standing naked in front of me.
I can’t help but drag my eyes over his body. The blood is still splattered on his neck and over his face. It coats his arms and has dried on his hands. But the rest of him is clean.
God, he is so fucking hot.
He’s got abs for days and those shadowed lines that arch over his hips and run to a V right down to his cock.
He’s not hard, but he’s still big and I have the urge to take him in my hand.
He tsk-tsks at me, clearly scenting the stirring of my arousal, and it’s becoming my new favorite thing. It makes me feel naughty when he does it.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask him, echoing Jimmy’s earlier question that he so artfully dodged.
‘Of course I am.’
‘You were distant when you left and now this.’ I gesture at him.
‘Damien and I went for a hunt.’
I don’t even want to ask for the details. It’s better if I don’t know.
He comes over to me and I backpedal into the tiled wall next to the vanity. A startled little breath escapes me. ‘I’ve been thinking,’ I say. ‘There’s something I want to get out.’ My heart picks up its tempo. ‘You keep telling me to find my voice. So I need you to listen.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘I’m not afraid of you.’
‘Your heart rate says otherwise.’
I swallow, licking my lips. Bran towers over me, naked and intimidating.
‘I’m not afraid that you’ll hurt me,’ I correct. ‘If I use the safe word, I know you’ll listen and I’m not worried about what comes after. I don’t think you’re going anywhere and I’m not either. I have faith in you. I trust you. And you have to trust me when I say I know what I want. So stop telling me I should be terrified of you and stop telling me I should be afraid of how I feel or how you feel or what we—’
He kisses me, long and slow, his tongue sliding over mine, his bloody hand on my throat.
Butterflies fill my stomach as he breathes out through his nose, almost like a sigh.
When he pulls back, his eyes are glowing. ‘Now it’s time you listen.’
I swallow hard. This better not be a rejection or I swear to god—
‘I love you, Jessie.’
My heart stops beating.
I just blink up at him, on the verge of screaming or sobbing. Not out of fear, but triumph, relief.
He said it.
He said it.
My eyes turn watery and when I blink several tears escape.
Bran reaches over and swipes them away.
‘I will never leave your side. Feel safe in using your safe word should you need it.’ He smirks and tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. ‘I can control myself, even around that tight little ass.’
I laugh and duck my head. Heat rises in my cheeks.
‘I am your knight,’ he goes on. ‘Your protector. I’ll even be your vampire boyfriend if it pleases you. And while I don’t think you fully understand what you’ve gotten yourself into, I am yours, in all of my bloody glory.’
I smile and look down at his glory.
He’s semi-hard, growing harder by the second. I instinctively reach down to touch him, but he bats me away. ‘I will bow at your feet,’ he says, ‘but you’ll still obey me. And you’ll only get this cock when I say you get this cock.’
I pout up at him. ‘Then say I get it.’
‘Absolutely not. You need to rest. I fucked that ass hard.’
‘Stop talking about my ass.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it makes me blush.’
‘I know. It’s adorable.’
I rake my teeth over my bottom lip, trying not to smile about it. ‘But I’m fae, remember. Which means I heal quickly, it seems. Which explains why my entire life, I never had to go to the hospital and—’
Bran pulls me back toward the bedroom. ‘I’m taking a shower and you’re going to bed.’ He tucks me into the sheets.
‘Fine. But hurry,’ I say up to him.
‘I’ll only be a minute.’ He flicks off the light. The shower turns on a few seconds later.
I lay there, eyes wide open, waiting for him to come to bed.
So much has changed. So much is yet to come.
The room is dark, but beyond it, I know the sun is rising, which means it’s Monday, the day before my birthday and my Pledge.
How will I sleep at all before then?
But as soon as Bran comes to bed and slips in behind me, wraps me in his arms and surrounds me with his scent, I give in to the exhaustion and fall quickly to sleep, warm in the knowledge that Bran Duval loves me.
He fucking loves me.
