Of Blood & Consequence (Book 2 of The Blood Bond Series)

17. Remember

As Delia nuzzled her nose into Michael’s chest, she sighed contentedly, wishing the feeling of pure bliss could stay with her forever. Their breathing had calmed as they laid on the couch, now facing each other with her head resting against his skin.

“I meant it. Everything I said, Michael.” She swore it like an oath as her fingers tickled the dusting of hair on his chest and abdomen.

He grunted, and she lifted her head to him, gauging his facial reaction as well. His eyes had drifted closed, a small smile flirting with his lips. It seemed as if he hadn’t heard her at all and was only reacting to the sound of her voice and not necessarily the words.

“Michael,” she called a little louder, though she didn’t really mind that he was only half-listening. The s*x had been mind-blowing and she was sure he was still riding the high of it all.

“Baby,” he murmured, and forked his fingers through her hair before pulling her head up to capture her lips in a brief but thorough kiss. “What is it?”

“Did you hear me?” Her eyebrows rose, challenging him to lie.

His lips twitched. “Sorry, I was thinking. What did you say?”

She repeated herself, and Michael nodded in response. “I trust you to always tell me the truth, cara. Even when you say nothing, I see it in your eyes or the way you move. It’s quite easy to read you.”

Warmth spread and tingled throughout her. Michael paid attention to her, read her like no other person could. It was for that reason that just as the prickles of pleasure shook out to her extremities, she sat up, pulling away from him, but gesturing for him to follow behind. “I want to show you something,” she said, and slipped down the hall toward the bedroom.

Michael got up from the couch, walking slowly after her and catching just a glimpse of her before she stepped through the door into the bedroom. He went after her, his steps eager as the look of something new and exciting on her face shone on her face. She was shy, a little wary—like the first time she’d admitted that she wanted him just as much as he did her.

It was look of Delia about to share something important to her.

When he moved into the bedroom, she was pulling out her notebook from a side drawer, a crinkle of worry-lines creasing her forehead before she yanked the pad to her chest like she was about to hug it. Like it was something precious.

Once her eyes moved up to see he had followed her, she climbed onto the bed and settled with her legs crossed in front of her. Michael crawled onto the bed after her, waiting for her to speak.

“I always felt too self-conscious to show you this before,” she started to say. “And you never asked to see it. I didn’t know if it was because you didn’t care what I doodled or if you were just giving me the time to become used to sharing this part of me.”

Opening the notebook, she glanced at the first page and smiled. “I did this one a little after I met you at the pool at Eli’s siblings’ house. I didn’t even realize what I was drawing until I was halfway done. By that time, I figured I might as well finish it. Felt like it took me decades, but it was only a few hours.” She looked at him again. “I couldn’t remember the exact nuances in your face, but instead of trying to seek you out to get them just right, I tried it by memory first. It…it’s not very good as you can see.”

She handed the parchment over to him, and he angled it toward him so that he could see what she’d done.

It was a pencil drawing of him. The nose was a bit off and wider than it should have been, but the jawbone was spot on. He was wearing sunglasses in the photo, and he remembered with a grin that he’d been wearing them the day they’d met. She would have had no idea what his eyes looked like underneath.

She’d drawn him from the memory of meeting him once, and he had to fight back the grin that threatened to consume his face.

It might not have been perfect for only having met him for a brief time, but it was damned close to it.

And it was good. Really, really good.

His head lifted to look at her, and his lips parted. “You did this after our first meeting by the pool?”

She nodded, looking sheepish. “Yeah. I never saw your eyes, but I just knew they would be lovely. I didn’t want to ruin it with guessing, so I kept the sunglasses on and did everything else by memory.” She paused. “I guess I could have gone back and fixed it after I’d seen the rest of your face, but I wanted to keep it. To remember. It didn’t seem right to…to change a memory, I guess you could say. After a while, I didn’t even want to fix it.”

He flipped to the next page. It was also of him, but he was looking grimmer, his face set with determination and jaw locked tight. “And when was this one, sposina?”

“That was when I said I wanted to help get Cassie back. You looked so determined not to let me go. I had no idea why the thought made you angry, but after you told me we were mates and meant to be, I drew it later that night. When you were out getting me human food, actually.”

He smiled again, even wider. “I’m young enough to have seen McDonalds and Arby’s opening up in Europe, but even I have to think that those fast-food places are vile. The smell of overcooked meat haunts me to this very day.” His voice was almost a murmur as his lips twitched with amusement.

“I’ll have you know that Jack in the Box was my favorite fast-food joint and nothing could compare! I still miss their breakfast sandwiches, but I don’t seem to have the stomach for them anymore.” Her lips quirked up at the edges, and she soon joined him in a smile.

“It smelled revolting,” he told her. “Unlike you, who smelled like flowers and suntan lotion those first days after I met you. You really were a sun-worshipper, weren’t you? A shame that we don’t tan in this form.” He spread his arms out, gesturing at his already olive-toned skin.

She shrugged, not minding at all that they were so unchanging in their vampire form. “At least I got a good tan before I was turned. And the tan I got will never fade. I don’t mind the way I am now. Just look at Cass. She’s so pale she looks like a true vampire. Her and Ellie.”

He laughed, then eagerly flipped to the next page.

“That was after Cassie got back,” she told him.

In the photo, his lips were parted and eyes hooded. His shirt was undone at the top, and he had a smudge of lipstick by his chin. Delia’s lipstick. He recognized it and remembered the day well.

“This was the day that Cassie was brought home,” he murmured. “Right after we got word she was found and safe and Tanner was dead. I kissed you when you came bounding into my room. I was in the middle of changing, but you didn’t seem to care. You were so happy to hear that she was alive and well…and the baby…”

His head lifted and caught her eyes, moist upon remembering the relief she’d felt hearing her best friend was okay.

“The way you looked at me, like you could devour me whole. I knew it was something I wanted to always remember, just in case anything happened to you—”

“Nothing will happen to me, amore. I wouldn’t let it. I have you and that’s all that matters. Now and always.”

He dragged her body to his, dropping the sketchpad on the bed to the side, still open to that last photo. He kissed her deeply, every wet inch of her mouth his to taste.

Pulling back, he cradled her face in his hands, framing it. “These are amazing. So good, Delia. You have true talent. Why didn’t you ever pursue it before?”

Her eyes dropped to his chest for a moment as she thought. “My mother always thought my little doodling was a waste of time. When I came out to California, I tried getting a job working in that profession. I didn’t have the money to go to college, nor the grades. I was always drawing in class, which—and let’s face it—outside of art or geometry, isn’t very helpful.” She smiled and looked back up at him. “I did do a little bit of time helping out illustrating at VM Productions, but I worked too slow for them and had to get another job quickly. Hence, Promises.”

“How long were you at the strip club?” He’d never asked too much about her employment there, though it wasn’t because he didn’t want to know more about her. He’d simply not been a fan of her working with men with deep pockets and roaming hands. What made it worse now was knowing that she had so much untapped talent that was wasted on serving horny men drinks while they ogled her assets.

Even if the damn tips were worth it.

“Only a little over a year.” She shrugged and smiled at him. “After the first two weeks at a place like that, you can tell the type of clientele you’re getting the moment they walk in. That way, it’s easier to set the boundaries from the start. If they want their hands on skin, they need to put them on the dancers or pay for a room in the back for a lap dance.”

Michael thought it was fortunate that Delia’d never had to do anything like that. Though the server girls were pretty and usually shapely enough, it was strictly hands-off unless they wanted Mannie to get one of the bouncers to kick them and their wandering hands out. Clientele got one warning. If that didn’t filter through their booze-addled brains and really sink in, it was a life-time ban at the swanky high-end joint.

The two of them laid in bed after that, Michael still flipping through her drawings and smiling as she nestled her head into her chest and answered his questions about each drawing. Once she brought up his parents and their meeting the next day, it brought him up short and his whole body tensed.

“I know you didn’t say the words exactly, Michael, but what they do, where they live in Italy—that says it all. They’re the heads of some super-f****d up vampire Mafia thing, aren’t they? That’s why it’s forbidden that I say a word to them, right? I’ve seen movies. Whenever anyone asks about ‘The Family’ or ‘Mafia’, they pretend they don’t know what you’re talking about. I promise I won’t say anything.”

He nodded his head, knowing she would never lie to him—especially not about this. His little mate wasn’t dumb.

“Yes, they are the original mob. La Cosa Nostra wasn’t the first actual organized family. Before them was the Di Salvios. Their organization name’s been the same for ages. Before La Cosa Nostra was the Di Salvio crime ring, Sangue Nero, meaning ‘black blood’.” He scoffed with disdain. “Black blood, indeed. Their souls are as black as their dead, unbeating hearts. Sangue Nero makes La Cosa Nostra look like child’s play.”

He winced at the word ‘child’, probably remembering that poor baby and his mother.

Delia’s whole nody curled around him more, rubbing soothingly at his chest as she sighed. “What are you going to do?”

“What I always do, cara,” he said. “Give him every excuse in the book and hope they take the hint. I’m not interested in having anything to do with their organization ever again.”

He growled the proclamation, his whole body tightening before tipping her chin up to him to latch onto her eyes. Really look deep.

“I promised myself I wasn’t that person, would never be that person again, and no matter what they say, what they do, they can’t bring me back. I tried to be who they wanted me to be, tried it for years. I only promised them I would that much and nothing more.”

He leaned back, stretching his form and pulling Delia closer to him.

“They’re just going to have to come to terms with that.”

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