An Unacceptable Mate

Chapter Nineteen

I was quite surprised at how far I got before strong arms caged around me. His sweating body instantly started to dampen my clothes and I could feel parts of him pressing to me so strongly; pulsing; desperate to be soothed. It was almost too much for my inexperienced yet raving hormones.

    "Where are you going?" he asked, not a hint of teasing in his voice as he pinned my front to the door of his – our – room. I didn't reply, keeping my jaw locked as he waited for a patient moment in which the hookers called his name repeatedly.

When this pissed me off, I replied, "I don't want to be here."

    "And why not?" he continued quickly, lips hovering above my left shoulder.

My teeth crunched together. Man he got under my skin. "Would you take enjoyment in watching men throw themselves at me? Would you like it if I made love to hundreds of men right before you?"

His breath hitched. "Made love?" he repeated, sounding, for the first time, surprised. And then rueful. Inerra apologetic? The tables were turning. "You're so innocent."

I blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The hookers in the background seemed to have given up calling his name and were now trying to get his attention by shrieking out in pleasure.

    "Nothing," he quickly dismissed in a sigh, taking a step back, releasing me. "You may go. Don't go onto the deck again. I advise you go down to the left and take the fifth door on your right."

That wasn't advice, that was an order.

I glanced back at him, finding him rubbing his neck awkwardly. His cheeks were flushed. Hang on, since when did vampires blush? He seemed ashamed of himself.

No. I must be drunk. Really drunk.

Without protest, I turned the door knob and then exited without a look back. That was weird. Of course, I followed the corridor straight ahead instead of following his instructions. My eyes took in the plainness of the area and I, again, pressed my ear to a few doors. Silence. Was everyone, other than a handful of whores and the leader, trying to keep the boat afloat?

After checking a couple more doors, I finally decided to enter one. My fingers hesitated on the cool handle. What if someone was in here, rotting or being tortured or having their eyeballs gauged out? My heart leapt into my throat as I pushed it as wide as it would go, peeking round from the wall.

I blew out a heavy exhale. It was just a dark room lit only by moonlight. My eyes sourced where the light hit off of the shiny, black, grand piano and over the white keys like they were made of milk.

I couldn't breathe for a little while, but then I closed the door and walked, entranced, towards the musical instrument. It had been so long since I'd seen one of these in real life. My parents used to own one, but I was hopeless at playing with more than two fingers.

Would Inerra hear if I played a few notes? No. He was too preoccupied with his entertainment to listen, or care.

With this in mind, I ran my hands over the smooth keys whilst simultaneously sliding the black stool out from under it. I sat, hands curled slightly, ready to play. I pushed down the quieting peddle and the lengthening one before beginning to play.

My right hand wandered up to the higher keys, playing a melody my mother used to sing to me, or at least attempting it. A soothing chill ran over my arms, raising goosebumps over them. It was so beautiful. Just one note made my heart jolt, ring and then sigh. My eyes slid shut.

    "Charlie," he whispered. "I'm sorry. Forgive me."

I inhaled sharply, hands stopping abruptly, eyes bulging from their sockets. That had been him. In my mind. Speaking to me. Telling me to forgive him.

But why? What had he done?

  "You play like it's second nature to you," someone remarked from the doorway.

I spun round, nearly falling off of the stool. Inerra caught me before gravity could seize my body. I tried to avoid eye-contact.

His hands released me once he was sure I wouldn't disappear off the edge of the seat. "Did you take lessons?" he asked, perching next to me, placing a finger on a black key.

I kept my hands in my lap. "No, but my mother..." Why was I telling Inerra about my private, personal life? I gave him a sideways glance and his gaze was expectant. "She used to play. And sing. I just remember..." I gave a shrug, picking the invisible muck off of a white key.

He started to play the same note over and over at a slow rate, deciding it was better not to reply. His other hand began to accompany him and I was forced to pull away as his skilful fingers set to work. Hands steady yet a blur, Inerra played as if he had been practising for years – oh wait.

  "Gymnopédie," I breathed half to myself, brows knitting together. How did I recognise that so well?

    "The first," he agreed in a murmur. I could feel my lids growing heavier and heavier the more he delved into the tune. At some point, my head fell onto his shoulder, lids closing over tired eyes. There were no further disturbances from him in my mind.

    "Do you want to sleep? Or you could eat first?" he offered, the music stopping, bringing me out of my light doze.

I lifted my head, but it was too heavy for my neck. "I'm fine..."

    "Shh," he assured, the kind side I'd never expected appearing. Inerra wasn't kind. I was just hallucinating from lack of true sleep. He scooped me up in his arms. I started to mutter that I didn't need him to carry me, but, of course, he ignored me.

I snuggled closer, taking a soft fistful of his top and bringing it to my lips before inhaling. His scent had changed a little. He was warmer. Acera wasn't usually warm...?

I felt a soft mattress engulf me from beneath and let out a long, tired breath. The exhaustion had suddenly hit. He started to pull away, but I reached for him, pushing my fingers through his dark hair and bringing his head to mine. My eyes remained close as our lips came together. A familiar burn in my gut appeared. I was kissing him again. It felt like years since I'd last felt his mouth on mine.

    "Acera," I sighed, pulling on his shirt, bringing his body closer, wanting more.

  "Uh, Charlie," he mumbled, caught up in the kiss. "You must really be out of it."

My lids fluttered open to find a face I hadn't been picturing. "Inerra? But...I was certain it had been..."

He brushed my lips with his fingers, blue eyes colder as he tried to remind himself I hadn't really been kissing him. "Go to sleep, Charlie."

With that, the older brother pulled away and disappeared from the room. I stared up at the light ceiling. I couldn't believe I'd mistaken Inerra for Acera. I'd been blinded by fatigue and my deepest desires.

I'd willingly kissed Inerra and, thinking it was Acera or not, it had been a willing action. No doubt, the evilest vampire in existence would use it against me sometime.

Until then.