Free Kismet Knight, Vampire Psychologist 3 - Dark Harvest by Lynda Hilburn

have taken steps earlier to protect you. I have been so distracted by having to mediate a feud between two vampire covens that I did not realize Hallow had arrived during my absence. I am certain he planned it that way. But that cannot be helped, and I have made arrangements for you to move into my penthouse.
    We will go to your townhouse first to gather clothing and supplies. You may return to your home when Hallow has been dealt with.”
    He bent down and retrieved my dress from the floor. “Here. Put this on while I find your shoes.”
    Fetch. Heel. Roll over. Play dead.
    I took the dress, stomped over to the edge of the bed, and sat. He was doing it again. Proclaiming another crisis I needed to be protected from, exactly like the two thousand previous dramas. Without giving me any pertinent details, he’d just assumed he knew more about what was best for me than I did. I watched him pick up my shoes and walk toward me.
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    He stopped in front of me and frowned. “Kismet. You are not dressed. What are you waiting for?”
    My voice rose in pitch and intensity. “I’m waiting for the courtesy of some answers. What was it you were saying earlier about not wanting to bully me? What do you call this?”
    He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, an arrogant expression on his perfect face. “We have no time for this now. It is important that you be somewhere safe. Somewhere I can watch over you.”
    Imprison me, you mean. If I’m not careful, you’ll stick me in one of those old dungeons underneath The Crypt. For my own good, of course. No way do you get to flick me off so easily.
    “Well, make time, your majesty, because I’m not going anywhere,” I said very slowly, struggling to hold back a sudden tidal wave of anger. When had I lost control of my life? I’d obviously been too accommodating. “Who is Lyren Hallow, and why is he such a big deal? You called him the Slayer. What did you mean by that?”
    Okay, Kismet. Get a grip. What’s happening to me? Why am I overreacting?
    He glared at me, his own anger spiking. “You need to stop being unreasonable. I will tell you everything as soon as we are in my penthouse where there are magical protections in addition to vampire security.
    This is no time for you to misbehave.”
    My jaw fell. “Excuse me? Misbehave? You’re treating me like a naughty child again. Being older than dirt doesn’t give you the right to be condescending.”
    Red alert, Kismet. Time to calm down. I don’t understand why I’m getting so upset. It almost feels beyond my control.
    He opened his mouth to say something, obviously changed his mind, and sighed impatiently. “Please. Put on your dress and shoes. I do not wish to transport you nude, but I will if necessary.”
    Okay. He’s still bossy, but at least he didn’t just zap us out of the room whether I liked it or not. Is that progress?
    I simmered, studying him for a moment, trying to figure out why he was so spooked. It would have been easy for me to launch into the next verse of our familiar song about his domineering attitude, but the stern expression on his face and his taut body language made it clear I wasn’t going to win this one. I had the uncomfortable feeling that my relationship with Devereux wasn’t so different from the situations I discussed with the clients at my volunteer shift at the Battered Women’s Shelter. Maybe their mates weren’t nightwalkers, but the power imbalance felt the same.
    “Okay,” I said, sliding my dress over my head. “I’ll let you take me to my townhouse, since that was my destination anyway, but when we get there, we’re going to talk.”
    He gave a quick nod, then without waiting for me to put my shoes on, he wrapped his arm around my waist and we rode the vampire express.
    We materialized in my living room and I swayed gently when he let go. It usually took me a moment to feel steady on my