Page 142 of Eternal Craving

“The Creda have found a cure but refuse to share it.” Scrutinizing his thoughts, I confirmed he’d fallen for it.

Archer’s brow furrowed. “Where are they meeting?”

Chapter Forty-Five

The Cavendish was easily one of London’s finest hotels.

Overlooking the Thames, its views were awe-inspiring, though when the wind blew in the wrong direction, the smell sucked all joy out of the vista. Inside the room were the finest of furnishings, and the long, thick drapes suited our needs perfectly.

Sunaria had procured one of their larger suites. The chestnut, four-poster bed was preferable to any casket, and its soft linen sheets were the type to which I’d become accustomed.

We paid the staff well to stay away from us.

I awoke to see Sunaria huddled up in a corner chair, her legs tucked beneath her. I raised myself up onto my elbows. “Come back to bed.”

“You have a death wish,” she said.

I shrugged.

She sighed. “You were having nightmares.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

“You ask me to share my secrets and then you keep yours from me.”

I threw off the blankets and swung my legs over the side. My behavior had always been reckless, but last night, I’d outdone myself. In one of Archer’s books, the ritual at Stonehenge had been described in detail. They’d unwittingly gathered the ashes of all the vampires they’d slaughtered in one place.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Sunaria gave me an uneasy glance.

“My thoughts were miles away.”

She rose and approached me. “Darling, we’ve agreed we mustn’t keep anything from each other anymore.”

“Fine. You can go first.”

Her fingers caressed my scalp, and it felt good. But then she closed her mind to me.

I pushed her away and reached for the clothes I’d thrown onto the floor that morning.

“Where are you going now?” she asked, watching me dress.

I pulled on my coat.

“You’re not going to St. Paul’s,” she continued. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I have to see it through.”

“You went to that society’s house?”

“I don’t think it’s their official base.”

“And afterward, you visited Marcus.” She slid between me and the door. “What did you talk about?” she asked, glaring at me. “You’re not the only one who suffered. Delacroix trapped me in that awful coffin.”

I nudged her. “Step aside.”

“I know I should have told you everything. But I didn’t think you’d understand.”

“Then you insult me.”