Broken (The Captive #5.5)(8)
Genny's gaze darted around the woods as she realized that she was alone with him. Seeming to sense her thoughts he released her arm and took a small step back. "I mean you no harm; I would simply like to walk with you."
His strange accent caused a little thrill to go through her. From what she could tell it was a mixture of Italian, English, Spanish, French and some others that she couldn't recognize. She thought it would have been an odd combination to have, but she found his voice as exotic and enthralling as he was.
"Why?" she managed to ask when she found her voice.
It was a smile that would disarm almost anyone she was sure, but she wasn't so easily fooled. He seemed to realize this as he took another step away from her and held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I'll leave if you would like me to."
She thought over those words as the first bird began to sing again. The water dripping off of the leaves and landing on the mossy rocks around them sounded exceedingly loud as he awaited her decision. She pondered what he would do if she did ask him to leave but those were not the words forming on the tip of her tongue.
They weren't human, they didn't abide by the silly human rules that a woman alone with a man was considered ruined or that she was a prostitute. Sexuality amongst vampires was often used to climb the social ladder. Marie had used it to the fullest of her ability over the years and continued to do so now, although with much less success these days. Genny knew she wouldn't be ruined by taking a walk with him but he was stronger than her, she could sense that in the aura of power that seemed to radiate from him, an aura that even a human would be able to detect. He also wasn't used to hearing the word no, no aristocrat was.
She should keep her distance from him, given his status in their world. But what harm could a simple walk in the woods do? If he'd wanted to hurt her, he would have done so already.
"Genevieve," he said in a low voice. "I truly just mean to walk with you. I'm in no rush to return to my manor."
"Why?"
He shrugged as he took another step away from her and pushed back the straggling strands of his wet hair. "The intricacies of politics makes my head pound."
A small laugh escaped her; she took a step closer to him as she put her foot on a rock that had no moss on top of it, one that she had used as her steppingstone often since coming to live with Felix. Not only did she and Camille use these woods to hunt for animals, but they were also a shortcut to the human village two miles away.
"I can understand that. Have they elected a new king?" she inquired.
"Not yet."
"I don't know why anyone would take that position," she muttered as she lifted her tunic.
The wet bottom of it made the material even heavier and more cumbersome than normal. She despised the silly human custom of covering themselves from head to toe like some kind of sacred relic that no one should ever lay eyes on. However, if she was going to continue to blend in amongst the humans, then she had to wear the clothes. Often, when it was just her in these woods, she would strip down to her thin chemise in order to experience the cool air caressing her skin.
"Neither do I," he said.
Genny tilted her head back to look up at him. "You're not in the running?"
"My father is still alive."
"Would you be in the running if he wasn't?"
"I would probably be in the lead." He didn't say it with bravado; in fact his upper lip curled in displeasure.
"Do you mind if I ask why you would be in the lead?"
The horse he had ridden into the clearing lifted its head to watch them before returning to munch on the grass beneath its hooves. Atticus fell into step beside her as she lowered her skirts and began to walk through the woods. He'd just been asking if it was ok for him to join her and yet as they walked side by side it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
His head turned and tilted to the side as he studied her. "Are you unaware of the order of the aristocrats then?"
Genny laughed and went to push back a low hanging branch but his hand shot out before her and he shoved it out of the way before she could. The speed with which he had moved startled her and she took an odd little half step back that almost caused her to trip over her hem. His hand wrapped around her elbow to steady her. Even through the layers of cloth covering her, she could feel the heat of his palm as if it were actually his skin against hers.
"I know that the aristocrats are the oldest and purest bloodlines amongst us but I've never really paid attention to the lines," she said in a tone that was far more breathy than it had been moments before.
This man did the strangest things to her. She'd spent her entire life dealing with the fallout from one of Marie's disastrous relationships after another and taking care of Camille. She'd never had the time, or the inclination to notice men, and they'd barely stayed in one place long enough for her to get to know anyone. The few men she'd had the chance to speak with on more than one occasion had never shown much interest in her. She was the sister of Camille and they rarely looked at her twice, but she had to admit that she hadn't looked at many of them more than once either. She couldn't take her eyes away from him though.
"I can understand that." He continued to hold the branch aside for her as she stepped down a small incline. "I think I know far too much about them."