Masquerade (Vampires Realm Series Book 7) (Reading Sample) by Felicity Heaton (thriller book recommendations TXT) 📖

As had hers.

At first, she had tried to put it down to the effects of feeding but that excuse had died a little more with each silent moment that had passed between them. The longer he had looked at her with eyes full of fire, the harsh rise and fall of his chest emphasising the breadth of his powerful muscular body, the more intense her awareness of him had become. The scent of their desire mingling and filling her senses had urged her to go to him and satisfy the dark craving to finish what they had started earlier this evening.

Not the fight.

Where the fight had been going.

On some instinctive and feminine level inside her, she had been aware that things had changed during the flow of their battle and that they remained changed now. Vivek had started responding differently to her and, in turn, she had reacted differently to him.

Hideously differently.

It had felt too good when he had pinned her to the floor, his body against hers, sending heat chasing through every inch of her and igniting a lust not for violence or blood, but for him.

Every touch of his body against hers since then had sent sparks skittering over her skin and rekindled the embers of her passion.

Definitely disturbing.

She hated Vivek. He hated her. He had made that evident over the past decade or so, destroying their friendship in the process. What everyone said about them might have been possible once but it was impossible now.

Vivek muttered something, slowed, and came around the other side of her. She silently cursed him for it when he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. The streetlights washed over his face, softening the harsh line of his jaw and the straight angle of his nose, and turning his hazel eyes as black as midnight. Golden highlights threaded through his hair, weaving over the tangled dark waves. Sophis cursed him again and swore he was the only man in the world who could look even more handsome than usual under sickly sodium lights.

“When we get back to the mansion we need to go straight to Commander Tynan and file our report,” he said, casual and disinterested, as though commenting on the weather rather than the fact they had uncovered a dangerous level of hunters grouping together.

She frowned at him and he glanced at her again, his eyes briefly touching hers before he faced forwards and jostled the hunter on his shoulder. The calm and detached air he affected didn’t fool her. She could feel his senses locked on her. Monitoring her for what?

She hoped to the Devil it wasn’t for a sign of arousal.

That had been a temporary glitch. Nothing more. The man was a misogynistic cruel bastard.

Her heart said that he hadn’t been once. They had been friends. He had taught her how to defend herself and how to dispatch hunters quickly, and trained her in tracking and almost every other valuable skill that she knew. He had spent hours with her in the training room when he should have been teaching others, favouring her over them.

What had changed him?

Aleksis Romanov loomed up in her mind and her steps faltered, her hands shaking at the memory that assaulted her and her side burning so fiercely that she swore if she touched it her fingers would come away bloodied.

“Are you alright?” Vivek’s tone was low and cautious, his English accented with a Russian edge that teased her ears and gave her comfort that she couldn’t help but accept. Her senses locked on him before she could stop herself and the comfort just his voice had given her paled in comparison to that which flooded her when she felt his senses focus on her in return.

I will not let him near you.

Those words echoed in her head, husked close to her ear, whispered with so much feeling that she believed in their promise to keep her safe from the beast that was Aleksis Romanov.

Had Vivek meant them or had he only said what had been necessary to make her continue with their mission?

Sophis looked up into his eyes, afraid of seeing the answer in them. There was no edge of softness and concern in them now, not as there had been during that moment behind the white van when fear had gripped her and she had turned to Vivek for reassurance and strength.

She cursed her own weakness this time, nodded and kept walking. She didn’t need his strength or his reassurance. She was strong enough to fight her own battles, even against a foe as deadly as Aleksis. Her swift steps carried her a few feet ahead of Vivek and she was thankful when he didn’t catch up with her and brought up the rear instead.

What was getting into her?

Seeing Aleksis and Izabella again had rattled her. Now that she knew they were in the city and had seen them once, she would be prepared when she faced them again. She would kill Aleksis.

And Izabella?

Sophis’s senses switched back to Vivek. His fear had been palpable when he had spotted Izabella at the hunters’ base tonight.

When Sophis had been recovering from the dagger wound in the infirmary a decade ago, Seth had come to her, saying that Vivek had sent him to check on her. She had asked him why Vivek hadn’t come himself. He had hesitated and made excuses, but eventually he had confessed that Izabella Romanov had staked Vivek in the back whilst he had been holding Sophis to comfort her. Sophis still felt sick to her stomach whenever she thought about that, or whenever she happened to catch sight of the scar on Vivek’s back. He had come close to death because of her.

Things had degenerated so quickly between them after that night that she had never had a chance to apologise, or even thank him for remaining with her.

Or ask him why he had been so focused on her and not his surroundings.

Her memory of the night was patchy, but sometimes she relived it in her nightmares, and each time Vivek held her close and told her to hold on.

Told her not to leave him.

A shiver raced down her spine and arms, spreading heat through her body, and she turned her head to one side. Not enough that she could see Vivek walking behind her, but enough that her awareness of him increased.

Was that moment just part of her fevered imagination during her nightmares or was it something that had actually happened?

She couldn’t ask him. If she did, he would brush it off, would laugh at her and tease her about it. It had plagued her for over ten years and now she wondered if she would ever find the courage to talk to him about what had happened that night.

He had been surprised when she had touched his back earlier tonight, resting her hand over the spot where the scar was, and she hadn’t wanted to stop herself from silently asking him whether he was all right. He had needed to know that she was there with him and that nothing would happen. Just as he had promised to keep her safe from Aleksis, she had promised without words that she would protect him from Izabella.

They would both have their vengeance one day.

The imposing black wrought iron gate of the mansion came into view ahead, illuminated by the yellow glow of the lanterns on the twin stone guardhouses that stood on either side of it. Two male vampires emerged from the small buildings and watched them approach. Beyond the gate, an immaculate lawn and gravel drive stretched into the distance, leading her gaze to the palatial home of her bloodline. Golden light bathed the long elegant façade and the sight of it chased away her lingering fear. She quickened her pace. The guards saluted as she approached and then cast inquisitive looks past her to Vivek. She could understand their curiosity. It wasn’t every day that someone brought a dead body back to the mansion, especially one that reeked of human and hunter.

The man on the right pushed his side of the gate open to allow them into the grounds. The pale gravel crunched beneath her boots, marking her swift steps. Vivek’s footfalls were heavy, louder than hers were, evoking the memory of a time she would rather not remember. His steps had been heavy the night he had carried her back into the mansion over a week ago, weary sounding to her ears, and she had looked up at him the whole time, trying to discern whether it was the weight of her in his arms or something else that made them sound that way. The more she thought about that night, the clearer her memory of it became and she realised she had been wrong about some things. His eyes hadn’t been cold after all. There had been pain in them that she had seen even though her mind had been swimming from the drug that had laced the hunter’s arrow and she had felt his concern on her hazy senses. For a moment, she had seen a glimmer of the man she used to know.

She cast a glance back at him. He didn’t seem bothered by the weight of the dead hunter on his shoulder and there was no weariness to his steps tonight or hurt darkening his hazel eyes.

He moved up to walk beside her, mesmerising her with the way his body moved, a sensual shifting of sinew and hard muscles that exuded power and was a pleasure to watch. What the Devil had gotten into her tonight? Sophis clenched her fists and tried to ignore the way her body lit up inside when Vivek’s gaze moved to her. She always knew when he was looking at her. It was an awareness that ran bone deep, intense and undeniable. It had never bothered her in the past but it did now. She no longer wanted to feel when he was looking at her, to shiver whenever their skin touched accidently, or flush with heat whenever he spoke close enough to her that her senses were full of him and she could feel the soft caress of his breath over her throat. Vivek had callously cast aside their friendship and turned his back on her, and she had vowed to do the same, to give as good as she got, to not let his barbs hurt her anymore. It had worked for so long but her resolve had fallen apart when he had saved her from the hunters in the city over a week ago. She had started to hope again, to desire to understand what had altered him so she could undo those changes. Why couldn’t she just move on as he had?

Vivek felt nothing for her now. It was time she accepted that. He would never become the man he used to be, the one she had called friend.

The one who might have become so much more to her than that.

She was tired of hurting.

It was time to let go of the past and focus on her future. It would hurt to cut all ties with him and sever all hope that she might regain him as a friend but it would be better for her in the end. The ball would bring many Venia back to the mansion. Perhaps she would see her sire again and could speak to him about her feelings face-to-face. She had written him more often recently, pouring out her feelings and telling him everything in some desperate hope that he could provide answers for her, some method of making everything right again. His replies were always supportive, if not a little derogatory towards Vivek, and always made her smile for a short while.

He had even reinstated his offer to provide for her and allow her to travel with him.

Accepting his kind invitation had never been more tempting.

Perhaps she should