Free Eyes of Ice (Eyes of Ice Erotica Series) by Emily Rose

“This party, this meeting, isn’t just more bureaucracy from the clan.”
                  He paused as a tuxedoed waiter swept by their table, depositing silver plates of food before each of them before whisking off again, his coattails flapping. It was as if he knew of the secrecy of their conversation. Maybe he does, Cecelia thought with a feeling of dread.
                  Neither Andrew nor Cecelia had reached for their cutlery; they were each, apparently, too distracted by their discussion.
    “The clan gathering was prearranged, of course. These things are, months in advance. So that’s not what happened,” Andrew fumbled.
                  “What are you saying?” Cecelia demanded. He sighed, and she couldn’t tell if this was to maintain his patience or to steady his nerves. Perhaps both.
                  “Devon told them. About … us,” (he ignored Cecelia’s sharp, horrified intake of breath) “And they wanted to meet you to be sure that you were trustworthy. It should be fine. It will be all right. A quick meet and greet. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”
                  A second promise in as many minutes , Cecelia thought. She didn’t doubt his sincerity, just the plausibility of his statements. How can he possibly protect me against an entire clan of vampires? I thought that yesterday with Devon was scary and dangerous enough. Andrew was speaking again.
                  “I didn’t mean to deceive you. I thought that, like other things, it was hard to convey over a text message. Are you … having doubts?” He ducked his head, again appearing concerned and implying that doubts were the last thing upon his mind.
                  Yes! Cecelia thought of screaming at him, but she wasn’t sure whether the scream would come out with tones of fear or anger. Or what his response would be. Or the response of the other vampires. She suppressed a shudder as she thought of Devon, hunting her down for her betrayal. If you don’t kill her, I will.
                  And what was this about doubts? Doubts about what?
                  Andrew’s hand was suddenly on her own, firmly reassuring, and Cecelia thought of the last time he had touched her – really touched her. A bit of her fear, in spite of everything that had sent her mind and emotions reeling, faded as she looked into his clear blue eyes and felt the soft pressure of his cool palm on hers.
                  “A few,” she mumbled, not wishing to lie rather than fearing his reaction, now.
                  “What can I do?” He immediately responded, running one of his fingers delicately along her wrist. His voice had become softer, and Cecelia found herself suppressing a shudder of a different kind.
                  “I don’t know,” she admitted, remaining truthful as she watched his finger circle up and down her smooth wrist. Something about the movement soothed her a little more. “Nothing more. There’s no more promises you can make.”
                  “I doubt that,” he said, and when she looked to his face he was smiling once more. “The last promise: after this party, I will give you the best night of your life.”
                  Cecelia had absolutely no idea what to say to that, except that it was one heck of an incentive to offer for the fact that it might be the last night of her life.
    “Are you going to eat?” Andrew inquired, at last.
                  Cecelia looked down at her food, but the talk of blood donors and prey, and the fear of the evening, had finally turned her stomach. Nothing looked so unappetizing as the five-star meal that sat before her, next to what she was sure was a hundred-dollar flute of champagne. And her stomach twisted still further thinking of what might happen if she did survive the clan meeting.
    “I