From GIDEON REDOAK by Anne Fraser
A caressing and irresistably magnetic voice entered my head, compelling me to come to the door of the house. I obeyed, even though I knew who summoned me.
“Be strong,” Genevieve called after me.
They were easy words to say. Thoughts of my friends, the Brotherhood, steeled me. I did what I had to do. I opened the front door.
“Hello, Gideon,” said Corbeau casually.
I stood still, not reacting. I don’t know why I’d expected him to have changed in some way. He leaned confidently against the door jamb, his white teeth flashing at me and his blue eyes points of ice. His black hair, like raven’s feathers, ruffled slightly in the breeze. He was still beautiful. His voice scalded with derision.
“Well? Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
There was no need, as he could enter my home, or any vampire’s home, without an invitation. Only the houses of living mortals were barred to us. He’d proven that in England, when he had raped me.
“Come in,” I said.
He brushed past me with a smile, bringing the tang of the sea with him. Sea salt was encrusted on his leather clothes, and I wondered when he had started dressing in such garments. Knowing him, he’d likely been hunting in an establishment that catered to those with such tastes. He liked to go for easy prey before taking on a challenge, to whet his appetite.
“You’ve changed.” He sneered as he reached out to touch my temple. I stiffened in anticipation of his icy fingers on my face. “Grey hair? At nineteen?” He taunted the illusion I’d willed to age my appearance. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed me by the neck and shook me. “Who else is in this house?”
Calm and dignified, Genevieve said, “I am.”
Corbeau flung me away from him, and I made a rapid acquaintance with the hall carpet.
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