A Tangle of Hearts (A Shade of Vampire #44)(22)

I slowly got up, adjusting my eyes to the dim, yellow light. I straightened my back and moved my head around in an attempt to relieve some of the tension that had gathered in the back of my neck.

I’m so thirsty.

I looked up to find Draven sitting in his chair. The fire threw shadows across his face. I had a prime view of his profile from my new angle. The blade of his nose stood out, reminding me of relief sculptures from Ancient Greece. I had to give him credit; for all his faults, Draven was one of the most beautiful creatures I had ever laid eyes on.

He was still and quiet, and I wondered whether I’d just dreamed him calling out to me.

“Did you say something?” I asked and rubbed my eyes. I passed my hands through my hair. It felt heavy and tangled. A bath was very much needed, especially after all the involuntary sweating during my snooze-fest by the fire.

“I said, ‘wake up,’ ” he replied. “Glad to see you listened to me for once.”

“Hey, that’s not fair.” I got up. There was some water left in a jug on his desk, and I gulped it all down without bothering to get a glass. The liquid was room temperature, but it still soothed my parched throat.

“You’re right. I was being unnecessarily mean. You’ve come a long way since you first got here.” A smirk quirked the corners of his mouth.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, wondering whether his super secret special herbs had done something or not.

“Still blind,” he quipped.

I had no response to that. A moment of awkward silence passed before he spoke again.

“But the herbs are working rather well,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

I leaned against the desk, my legs still weak and half-asleep. It had been an excruciatingly long day.

“My other senses are heightened. I can hear your heartbeat, for example,” he replied, his voice low and wavering. “Ba-boom… Ba-boom… Ba-boom…”

I put a hand on my chest and found that he’d perfectly captured the rhythm of my heartbeat. It was a very intimate observation, I thought, and I felt my heart pump faster.

“Now it’s beating faster,” he noticed. “Have I upset you?”

I shook my head and took a deep breath, willing myself into control. His accuracy was alarming, and it made me feel defenseless in front of him. Even vulnerable.

“No, not at all. I was just testing your hearing,” I retorted.

He smiled again. “I can hear all the hearts beating in the house,” he said. “Vita is awake in the basement. Phoenix is still asleep but stable and steady. Aida is sleeping. Bijarki, Jovi, and the succubus are also downstairs. Field is outside. I can’t hear him.”

I was officially impressed.

“Wow. What else can you do now?”

Draven cocked his head to the side, and his nostrils flared. “Did you know we all have our own individual scents?” he asked softly.

I waited for him to continue, unsure of where this was going.

“Like chemical reactions deep within our layers of skin, specific aromas that define us as individuals.”

“I’ve never really considered that,” I said.

“Well, we do. We all smell different, but with a little bit of practice, a Druid such as myself can use his amplified olfactory sense to identify a person based solely on their natural scent.”

I had an idea as to what he was about to say. Unsurprisingly, my body immediately responded by flaring up, flooding my limbs with liquid heat.

“You, for example. You smell like summer by the sea. I’ve only been that far out once, years ago, but I remember it to this day. Driftwood and a subtle layer of blossoming lilies. That’s you, Serena,” Draven continued, his tone low as the amber light from the fireplace danced on his jaw.

I had nothing to say to that. I felt naked, raw, and like I was his to play with. I’d never taken my own scent into consideration. I’d never smelled myself to recognize what he described as being the proprietary fragrance of my skin. It was such an intimate thing to say. It went far deeper than his interpretation of my heartbeat.

My knees weakened, and I could feel my breathing staggering. But leave it to Draven to ruin the moment.

“There’s a plethora of scents coming from downstairs as well,” he continued matter-of-factly. “Jovi and Aida share a common whiff of wet dog, but it’s extremely subtle. She’s more towards a bergamot, while Jovi leans into prairie grass and morning dew. Vita is a little fireball, soft layers of spices. I could go on, if you’d like.” He smirked.

“No, no, I’m good. You lost me at wet dog anyway.” My reply was blunt and followed by a sigh.

It felt good to see his spirits higher than before. He’d hated feeling useless, being unable to do everything he was used to doing. Until the Daughters returned his eyesight, Draven had to find other ways to stay active and protect us from Azazel and the Destroyers. I understood his frustration, but I was unable to fully understand his impairment. So it warmed me to see him cracking bad jokes and exploring his heightened senses to such impressive levels of detail.

My train of thought derailed completely as he stood up.

I rushed to offer my shoulder for support, but he raised his hand to stop me.

“Don’t. I’m adjusting to spacial perception now. Sounds, smells, vibrations—they’re telling me where everything is around me.” He took a few steps.