Inescapable (Eternelles: The Beginning, Book 1) (17 page)

His full lips parted slightly. What beautiful, perfectly formed lips. Like a Renaissance statue’s—sensual, desirable, portals to sin. Perfect balance to the tough angles of a masculine face covered in dark stubble.

“How often do you shave?” she suddenly asked, the first thought that popped in her head to attempt to deflate the unholy lust that coursed through her body.

“What?” His eyes danced now, full of mirth but also a spot of confusion.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you clean shaven since that first time at—”

“At the ball, where we met. Christmas, 1911. I haven’t forgotten that first dance, Séraphine. We haven’t danced since then.”

The ball—the first time he’d set eyes on her, swept her away in a waltz, and sealed her fate. Outrage should have driven out that memory that re-entered her mind for the second time this evening, but instead, her eyes got their fill of his moving lips and she couldn’t pry them away from that wonderful sight. Memory be damned.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Oh,” he said in a rich tone. “Once or twice a week. Why? Would you prefer it if I shaved more often for you?”

For me? Yes.

“No.”

“Kiss me. Here. Now.”

Shocked by the sudden request, she shifted her gaze upward. He meant it, and she shouldn’t be surprised. This was Rafe, after all.

“We’re in a public place.”

“So what? I always thought you free thinking.”

“What do you really know about me?” she spat.

“Everything,” he said simply. His hands crept down where Thiago’s had been before. “Headstrong most times, at others you need a little encouragement. Like now.” The flimsy material of the dress held no protection against the hardness of his touch. “No one but me should touch you like this. I should punch the life out of that little piece of shit for trying to take what isn’t his.
Pezzo di merda,
” he said, spitting the last curse words in a prolonged hiss.

“I already told you. I’m not yours.”

“So you did, but later you fell apart in my arms.”

Sera gasped. “So it was really you in my room, not a dream.”

“Hmmm…maybe it was me
and
a dream. One I can’t wait to have again.” He dug his fingers into her flesh and pulled her roughly into him.

  Sera realized that her fingers were playing with the longish hair at his nape. She relished in the feel of him, surrendered to the magic he weaved around her, and there was no way she could control her body. Matter over mind, topsy-turvy, overthrowing a most basic scientific concept.

His lips were closer now, only a couple inches away. Britney’s song had ended, and Adele’s strong voice haunted the room, haunted her.
Someone like you.
If she trolled the world for another century, she’d never find someone like him again....

Just by being, Rafe demanded her submission. He waited.

“Kiss me,” he finally whispered in the gentlest of tones. “Please.”

And her mouth was on his, silencing his request and swallowing any further entreaties. He angled his head and brought a hand to her nape to dig through the mass of her hair. Long fingers burned into her skull, a touch that stoked the flame within her. She parted her lips wider while they kept moving in rhythm with the sad tones of a beautiful melody. Simultaneously, they deepened the kiss so tongue met tongue, and groan echoed groan. If she wasn’t immune to him, neither was he.

The kiss went on and Sera forgot the world around her. Never had a man put her so completely under his spell, and if she were honest, she couldn’t possibly believe that his vampyre nature was the sole culprit in that. A maker’s bond with his slave was iron-clad and of a sensual nature, but it didn’t necessarily come with a highly sexual pull. This man’s lure was pure insanity, uncontrollable despite everything—and she didn’t know how to stop it.

The taste of him, that scent of musk and male. She wanted nothing more than to let him consume her….

“So this is what you do when I’m not looking. Sleep with the enemy.”

The cutting words zipped through her heart, catching it painfully between their serrated teeth. Sera jumped back, as if singed, and found her mother standing a foot away with a homicidal look. Sebastian lurked behind her, looking both accusing and guilty, if that were possible. Fiona had left her place and joined them, panic on her face. And Thiago…well, better forget about the smirk on his face or she’d have regretted ever wanting to keep Rafe’s fist away from his gut.

Adri’s vitriol shifted to Rafe. “And you, if your mother only knew what you’d become—”

“Leave my mother out of this or you’ll regret it,” he said through gritted teeth. A short face off ensued in Adri backing down and stepping back from the line she’d been about to cross.

“Come with me. Now,” she ordered Sera.

Sera laughed mirthlessly. “You must think I’m five years old.”

“You shouldn’t be here anyway, and certainly not with
him
, acting like a common whore.”

Feeling Rafe stiffen beside her, and aiming to minimize the damage, Sera turned to him. “Go,” she pleaded.

He hesitated a fraction, then nodded. This matter was entirely between mother and daughter—he understood that.

“I’ll see you again soon,” he said, and walked out without a fuss.

Never had Sera been so embarrassed. How dare Adri mortify her in public like she wasn’t all grown, her own woman? Waves of hate and umbrage filled her. Oh yes, hate
did
exist. And it was brutal. Humiliation left a bitter tang in the mouth, where just moments before, she’d been a captive to pure pleasure. How swiftly things could change.

“You must be kidding me. You’re calling
me
a whore,
Mother
? Aren’t you the one who slept with countless men for money and diamonds?” she scorned, gesticulating for emphasis. “My limited experience comes nowhere close to yours.”

No use pussyfooting around with mild insults. She’d gone tit for tat, and felt an utter bitch for it.

“Insufferable and ungrateful. How did I ever—”
Love you.

Those words hung in the suffocating air. Pain veiled her mother’s eyes, but only as a transitory shadow. The antagonism that simmered was too resilient for any other emotions to win an upper hand. No place was left for anything else, including love.

No more, Mom. I’m tired of this. So tired.
“Well, while you figure that one out, I’m out of here.”

Adri grabbed her arm. “We are far from done here,
petite effrontée!
”

No mistaking the icy hardness in the tone. She’d pushed her mother to her limits.

Well, maybe it was time. This fight had been brewing for a century, after all.

Sera stumbled a few steps as her mother pulled her with a relentless grip toward the door marked ‘Service Only.’ The two of them landed in the plush corridor backstaging the club. She caught a glimpse of Fiona trying to follow, but the girl couldn’t pass through the entryway, despite it being wide open. Wards, of course.

Sebastian slammed the door closed after sending Adri a worried look.

“Let me straighten some things,” her mother started. “You think I had a choice? You think I wanted to become a courtesan, offering myself to the highest patron?”

Sera snorted. “You said yourself you loved the good life, didn’t you? How would that be far-fetched to believe?”

“How dare you—” Adri took a step forward, and stopped. “What would you have done, if the one you considered your father had thrown you out on your arse into a world you didn’t even know existed? How would you have fared,
hein
?”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Don’t you dare blame Grandpa for this! And Uncle Ares was here to help you. You had a choice.”

“
Dieu du ciel
...you’re ashamed of me.” Adri gasped, before she laughed. A hard light glimmered in her eyes, making Sera squirm. “
Chérie
, who do you think introduced me to the demi-monde?”

No. Not him.... Her uncle was an unrepentant hedonist, but to go to this length and compromise his sister?

“You want me to deny I loved the life I was forced to live?” her mother continued. “I won’t do that, because I didn’t hate it. I didn’t have a choice,
ma fille
, and when you’re faced with no choice, you buck up and do what you have to.”

Sera blinked. So her mother thought she was being a prude? How like her to bring everything back to her. It was always about
her
, and no one else.

“Trust a selfish woman to enjoy that kind of life, because it gave you everything you wanted, didn’t it? Money, jewels, endless men in your bed.”

To her surprise, Adri laughed. “Don’t forget food, shelter, and clothes on my back.”

Here was the trademark sarcasm again—what her mother resorted to when she was backed into a corner. No, Adri, invincible and immortal, would never admit weakness or defeat. How Sera despised those masks the woman carried around like a notch in her belt—masks she wore every time they clashed.

“You think me selfish? Go ahead; be my guest. I’d love to see you fend for yourself if you’d been in my shoes.”

Sera fisted her hands and tried hard to muster some self-control. “Don’t play the self-righteous card with me,” she burst out. “You always did what you deemed best, and never thought of anyone else.”

“Really?” Adri crossed her arms and cocked her hip.

Oh no, she wouldn’t! “Think you saved my life that night, Mother? You saved yours, because you ‘cannot live without me.’” She made inverted commas with her fingers when she said those last words. “It was always about you; admit it.”

“And then what? We’ll be done? Dirty laundry aired in public and all goes back to rights in the world?”

Sera snorted.

“I’ll tell you what.” Her mother uncrossed her arms and poked her finger into Sera’s chest. The soft skin above her breast hurt where the short nail dug into it. “You remember those creatures that came to abduct you, right?”

She flinched, and a shiver coursed down her back at the memory of their empty gazes where beckoned the depths of Hell.

“Had I not fed you, and turned you that night, that’s what you would’ve become.”

“No!” She had to be lying, doing everything to justify herself.

Adri gave another cold laugh. “You’re not human, Séraphine, and only humans die from a vampyre bite if they’re not turned. All other creatures rise up as soul stealers. Soulless themselves. Evil.”

“No!”

“Yes! And think,
ma fille
. You would’ve become his minion, his to command, his every wish your bidding. His slave.”

And that’s not what I am today?
Anger flared, and she saw red. Fire started to lick at her skin. “You’re lying.”

“Think what you want.”

Adri thought she could get away so easily? She had another think coming. “Then why didn’t you just kill me?”

Her mother blinked. “I...I couldn’t.”

“Because you’re selfish, and thought only of yourself. I would never have been in this predicament had it not been for you that night.”

All the fight seemed to drain out of the other woman as her shoulders sagged. “Sera,
mon coeur
—”

“Don’t try to touch me!” She shrugged the outstretched hand off.

“Fine.” A tear rolled down her cheek, and Adri swiped it off with the back of her hand.

She refused to be embroiled in displays of emotion. Her mother could be a phenomenal actress—she wouldn’t reel Sera in. Not this time. Old wounds that had been festering were torn open and now they bled.

“If you were in my shoes,” Adri said, “you’d know that’s what a mother would do for her child.”

Pain erupted inside her heart, and the fire burned hotter on her skin. She glanced down but saw no flames on her body. Sera trained her gaze up at the woman who believed she had mothered and nurtured her. She couldn’t deny that, true, but Adri never played a spotless game. She’d do good to remember that.

“And now I’ll never know, Mom, what it can feel like to have my own child.” She paused as Adri paled. “You took that from me that night.”

Adri compressed her lips. “Right.
I
did that. Not that bastard you were wrapped around and whose tonsils you were checking with your tongue just a moment ago.”

“Don’t you bring Rafe into this!”

“So now you’re defending him?”

“At least he never had a hidden agenda.”
Like you.

At the unvoiced admonishment, Adri slapped her cheek.

“
Espèce de fille de...
”

Sera stomached the blow hard. She brought her hand up and touched her smarting cheek. Her hand felt hot, and she darted a gaze to find licks of fire coming from her fingers.

“Say it,
Maman
.
Fille de pute, non
?”
Pute
; whore.