Don't Blackmail the Vampire by Tiffany Allee Read Free Book Online Page B

too important for him to risk it. Slowly, he breathed in and out, making himself take in the air.
    He had to stay calm.
    You could stand up right now. Nothing is trapping you in here. It’s only humans coming down that hallway.
    He made the words a mantra in his head, so much so that he missed the first part of their conversation. After a few moments, the words broke through his near-panic, and he almost let out a sigh of relief at the distraction.
    “…stupid. She was fine. You saw it yourself. Let’s go back on the slopes. We can still get in another hour,” Brent said, and Charles could practically see the sneer that tainted his tone smeared across his face.
    “I’m not in the mood. I’m going to go take my sister some hot chocolate. You saw her ankle.”
    “Barely swollen. Looked fine to me,” Brent muttered. “Whatever. I’m going to go find Cole. Maybe we can track down Charles. He’s probably back on the slopes by now anyway.” A pause. “You know how important impressing this guy is to us. You’re the one who keeps pressuring me to find a job—”
    “I’m not pressuring you—you know what, it’s fine. Just go.”
    “Fine.”
    Good for Kristen. At least she had a little backbone—where her sister was concerned, anyway. He almost felt bad that he didn’t have a job for Brent. The man was supposedly doing some work here and there—projects at friends’ companies and the like. But mostly their lifestyle seemed dependent on Kristen’s trust fund, and her modest income as an interior designer.
    The door slammed shut and Kristen took a haggard breath that Charles ached to echo. Why was she lingering? Go get your sister the fucking hot chocolate.
    Not a charitable thought, but in about two seconds he was going to have to spring out from under the bed and work mojo on her mind to keep her from remembering he was there. Or give it his best fucking try.
    Shuffling sounded, then a muttered curse. Shit. Her cigarettes. She’d noticed he’d dropped them on the clothes, not having enough time to put them back in the pocket where he’d found them. Would she assume Brent had found her out? Charles hoped so.
    After a few more seconds, the door clicked shut behind her, far more quietly than it had behind Brent. Charles slid out from under the bed and took a few shallow breaths, then wiped his forehead with his long cotton sleeve.
    That had been close. Not that he was scared of a couple of humans. But he wasn’t any closer to finding out if Brent—or Kristen, for that matter—was harassing Alice.
    And that was unacceptable.
    …
    He was late for dinner, arriving after everyone already had been served. Noah was mentally and emotionally in a place that Charles had never seen him go before. The vampire was always serious, although not as painfully serious as their older brother, Alex, but he’d never been so on the edge of rage and fear. Not that Charles had seen, anyway.
    It was disconcerting.
    “Charles, how are you?” Kristen said brightly as soon as he joined them.
    Rachel no doubt hoped that her sister’s happiness was an indication that she might be interested in someone other than her fiancé, but Charles could see the glances Kristen shot at her then back at him. She had hopes, all right, but they were for Rachel. It would have been sweet, if she weren’t in such an obviously terrible position with Brent. And if he were even remotely appropriate for Rachel.
    He sat in the empty seat, sandwiched between Rachel and Brent’s friend, Cole. He started in on the small talk, then a flash of pain hit as something came into sharp contact with his shin.
    He stifled a yelp of surprise and shot Rachel an incredulous stare. How could she even kick him that hard? The woman was petite. It defied the laws of physics.
    She gave him a meaningful look, and he remembered how he’d left her, ankle twisted—obviously, the ankle on the opposite side of him—with questions on her tongue, and more than a little heat