Cloak of Deceit

Chapter Nineteen

A small sitting area attached our rooms. By ours, I mean the one I apparently shared with Julian, and Carl's. My stomach did a little flip when I realized this, but I couldn't be sure if it came from nerves or excitement. I said goodnight to Carl in a daze, hugged him, and let Julian lead me into our room.

The door closing behind us sounded very final. As I looked around at the lushly appointed boudoir, I couldn't help but wonder if he intended on doing more than just talking. How did I feel about that? I didn't have to consider it, really. I still wanted Julian. More than ever. But I had no idea how he felt, especially now. Unsure of myself, I hovered in the middle of the room.

"There's a robe in the bathroom. I brought you new clothes for after you've cleaned up." He gestured to the door on the other side of the suite.

I nodded and silently slipped past him.

He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder, turned me around. His expression was impossible to read, and my powers must have been tapped out because I didn't catch even a hint of aura. "And then we're going to straighten some things out."

"All right," I agreed, completely neutral. I hated being so careful not to reveal my feelings, but navigating the snare of issues between Julian and I would probably prove more challenging than escaping Derek's Chamber of Horrors.

The most intrusive of my worries dissolved as the hot shower cleansed away the grime and blood from my body and the taint from my spirit. I was free, with Julian and Carl, and we were safe. For now. I was pretty much whole. My arm had almost healed. Everything since the inhibitor chamber episode with Monique — the last time I had spoken to Julian — seemed like one long nightmare. Looking back, I couldn't imagine how I got through it. Yet, there I was.

I must be tougher than I thought. The idea lent me the strength to face my hardest battle yet, the one with my own heart. How would I handle whatever it was that Julian wanted to straighten out? There were so many things I wanted to tell him, to apologize for. Where would I begin?

Julian stood by the window when I exited the bathroom. He'd taken off his boots and coat. His arms were crossed over his chest, his black T-shirt stretched across his imposing shoulders.

I set my bundle of dirty clothes in a chair and came to stand beside him. We had an excellent view of the city from our room. The lights glittered below us like a garden of stars. That normal world hovered just beyond. So far away from our ghostly reflections in the dark glass: Julian's hard-set and intense, mine pale and wispy. I looked almost as nervous as I felt, a doe caught in headlights. What did he have to say to me? Did I really want to hear it?

"Jules?" I placed a trembling hand on his arm.

He whirled on me, and before I could blink, he'd sealed our mouths together in a hot, mindless kiss. After giving my brain a second to catch up, I surrendered to his sudden rush. The force of it would have knocked me over if I hadn't held on so tight.

Julian's tongue lashed against mine, wickedly demanding my inevitable response. My focus narrowed to encompass only him. His lips, teeth, and tongue claiming me. Owning me. His hands fisted in my robe at my lower back, the heat of him pressing against me like several atmospheres of pressure. Days of yearning compounded into a solid force, slamming us together like two supernovas.

We backed towards the bed until we toppled over with him on top. My skin broke out in a sweat, a fever burning down the front of my body. I had no hunting instincts or bloodlust to blame for it. I wanted him that badly all on my own. Every swirl of his mouth tasted like honeyed whiskey, searing down my throat and straight to my core.