Free Forbidden Nights With A Vampire by Alyssa Day Page B

look. “That bastard tried to kill you. Aren’t you angry?”
    “Indeed,” Pamela called over the sound of running water. “Where is your infamous anger now?”
    “Banishment will get rid of him,” Vanda mumbled. Max wouldn’t be able to show his face or get employment anywhere in the eastern United States that fell under Roman’s rule. He would have no choice but to move far away.
    Phil watched her curiously. “Are you sure?”
    She shook her head. “I don’t want any more deaths on my conscience.”
    His eyes widened. “What deaths?”
    She winced inwardly. Now she’d said too much. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She started to get up to take her empty mug to the kitchen, but a sharp pain creased her ribs. “Ouch.”
    “Stay put.” Phil grabbed the mug from her hand and passed it to Cora Lee.
    Vanda pressed a hand against her ribcage. That damned snake had done more damage than her body could heal in one day.
    Phil watched her, frowning. “I want the three of you to move back into Roman’s townhouse.”
    She glared at him. “No way.”
    “It’s not safe for you to remain here, not as long as Max is on the loose and blaming you for all his problems,” he argued. “I can’t watch you here and do my job at the townhouse at the same time.”
    “He has a point.” Pamela dried her hands on her favorite tea towel from London.
    “Better safe than sorry,” Cora Lee added.
    Vanda groaned.
    Phil patted her leg. “It’s for the best. If you ladies will pack your bags, I’ll drive you over to the townhouse.”
    “Of course.” Pamela strode toward her bedroom, followed by her roommate.
    “Cora Lee, could you pack a bag for Vanda?” Phil asked as he rested a hand on Vanda’s shoulder to prevent her from getting up.
    “Sure.” Cora Lee slanted a wry smile at Vanda. “Gee, I wonder what I should pack for you? Maybe a black catsuit? And the purple catsuit? And what else?” She tapped her chin, thinking. “Oh, right! The other black catsuit.”
    “Very funny,” Vanda muttered.
    “Such a dreadful lack of variety,” Pamela said as she marched into her bedroom.
    “That’s for sure.” Cora Lee followed her inside.
    The door shut, and Vanda found herself alone with Phil.
    “They’re just envious,” he whispered.
    “Of what?”
    “That you look so incredibly good in a catsuit. Not many women would.”
    She felt a blush warming her cheeks.
    “That’s better.” He touched her face. “You were looking so deathly pale before.”
    For good reason. She’d come too close to dying a horrid death. “I—I want to thank you for saving my life. Again.” Her blush deepened, and she clenched her hands in her lap. “It must have been awful for you. I feel so…stupid that I was just lying there helpless while you had to do battle with that disgusting—”
    “It’s all right. I’d fight any sort of creature to protect you.” He rested his hand on top of hers. “You’re worth it.”
    Tears sprang to her eyes without warning. She pulled her hands away from his. “Don’t say that.” She covered her eyes with a trembling hand. Worth it? Would he say that if he knew the truth about her?
    “Vanda,” he whispered, “I’m only telling you how I truly feel. And now that we’re alone, I need to tell you something else.”
    Oh God, no. Her fears were true, and he’d killed Max. That’s why no one had found the dancer. Phil could have turned him into a pile of dust and scattered the remains. Was her life always to be tainted with murder? And now she’d dragged Phil into her legacy of death. “There’s no need to talk about it. I understand the kind of rage that leads a person to—to take a life.”
    Phil tilted his head, studying her. “What are you referring to?”
    “Max,” she whispered. “You…” She noted the confused look on Phil’s face. The clear blue eyes of an innocent man. “You didn’t kill him?”
    “No. Believe me, I was sorely tempted, but—”
    “Phil.” She