Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 116408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Philippe was easy to spot, seated on the single long white bench in the center of the room. What halted Rafe’s footsteps were the five other vampires scattered around the small area, clearly guards for their master. There had been no discussion of bringing security, but Rafe had expected a little more trust and civility than this.
Forcing a fake smile on his lips, Rafe started to take a step into the room, but Lola grabbed his elbow and stopped him. She didn’t say a word, but the look in her dark-brown eyes said plenty. She thought he’d lost his mind for thinking he could safely take a step into that room.
No, he wasn’t insane. He knew he wasn’t particularly safe in that room. But the Arsenault clan needed something. And they couldn’t get what they wanted if they killed him on the spot.
Patting her hand, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek, which only succeeded in causing her to glare at him before releasing his arm.
Rafe stepped into the room and for a moment no one moved, but he knew everyone in that small space was keenly focused on him. Lola was at his back, just a step behind, but he could feel the tension radiating from her. He wished he could send her away rather than risk an incident, but he knew she’d never willingly leave him. And in truth, he liked knowing he wasn’t entirely alone.
After a few rapid heartbeats, the seated man turned his head and looked up at Rafe. And Rafe’s heart stopped. He was…
Rafe’s brain floundered for a second, trying to take in the golden beauty in front of him. Philippe Arsenault was sunlight, golden and pure, bravely holding back the darkness. A slow smile spread across Philippe’s pink lips, and Rafe’s heart started again.
He was not at all what Rafe had expected. Philippe couldn’t have been more than twenty-three or twenty-four when he was reborn as a vampire, but he didn’t feel terribly old either. A couple of centuries, possibly. There was a weight to his power that was heavier than Marcus’s, but not nearly as heavy as Aiden’s. It also didn’t hurt that he was surrounded by other vampires, who were likely hoping to mask Philippe’s youth.
But young or not, he was a clan leader, and that was not something to brush off. If other vampires were willing to follow him, to look to him for protection, then there was more to Philippe.
Philippe smoothly rose to his feet. He was only a couple of inches shorter than Rafe, with a similar slender build. He tilted his head up, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as if he were also amused by the small height difference, and extended his hand.
“Rafe Varik,” he greeted in a voice made for song.
“Philippe Arsenault.”
Philippe held Rafe’s hand a beat longer than necessary, his eyes seeming to take in everything about Rafe’s features. He released Rafe’s hand with a small shake of his head. “If you’ll forgive me, you’re exactly like I pictured you would be.”
“And how is that?” Rafe asked, giving a slightly flirtatious smile.
“Oh, tall, dark, and devilish.” Philippe paused and stared at him for a moment, and Rafe struggled a little to hold his gaze. He knew nothing about this vampire, and while he didn’t think he could be enraptured, he wasn’t one to take unnecessary risks when it came to unknown clan leaders. “Hair black as night, sharp features, and haunting blue eyes. Yes, I imagine that you are the very image of the devil.”
Rafe placed his hand to his chest and bowed his head to Philippe. “Darkness to your golden sunlight.”
Philippe laughed lightly. “But you don’t seem to be as blinded by the light as I would like you to be.”
“Would you have me struck blind and dumb by your beauty? I would rather sing sonnets to it.” The flirting came easily; the words meant nothing to him. Just a pretty, painless means of getting what he wanted.
But from the shrewd look in Philippe’s pale-green eyes, Rafe knew the vampire wasn’t fooled. Touché. Rafe hadn’t expected this to be easy.
Philippe’s gaze shifted beyond Rafe’s shoulder, likely settling on Lola. He prayed she wasn’t glaring at Philippe. “This shadow must be the lovely Lola that I’ve heard about.”
“Yes, she thinks I’m quite incapable of watching out for myself when I’m away from the nest.” Rafe made a show of looking around the room at the other vampires that surrounded them. “It looks as if you’ve got more than your fair share of overprotective companions. I thought you invited me to a civil chat.”
Rafe had meant that to be a mild rebuke, but being so horribly outnumbered was starting to unsettle his nerves. He could hear Marcus groaning in his head, aching to cut out Rafe’s careless tongue.