Raven Mask Read Online Free PDF Page A

king-size canopy bed, placed a foot or two from the wall, was draped with black and burgundy silks. I never knew what colors would decorate it. Unlike mine, Lenorre’s bedding changed a couple of times a week. My bed doesn’t see enough action to warrant such frequent upkeep.
    On the other side of the room was a sitting area, with a black sofa pressed against the farthest wall near a matching armchair. The sofa’s back curved in almost a heart shape. Its arms were wide and curling, and on the inside of the curl was a spiral of light gray. The sofa stood on four black-clawed feet.
    Once a beautiful painting of the night sky hung on the wall behind the armchair, but now it was gone. The painting had been from the perspective of someone standing on a cliff, gazing at the deep waters of the ocean, with the horned crescent moon high overhead, reflecting off the water. The picture was shattered the first night I had stayed with Lenorre. I learned not to play touchy-feely with the vampire before she died at dawn. I had noticed the pain buried deep in her eyes and tried to distract her from it. The distraction cost both of us, because when she woke, the hunger she had felt before dying channeled into blood lust. Let’s just say, it wasn’t pretty. The picture didn’t survive. I’d have offered to replace it if it hadn’t been one of a kind.
    Lenorre placed the laptop in the armchair while I let the backpack slide down my arm and onto the couch.
    “I will start the water,” she said.
    She disappeared into the bathroom, and a moment later I heard it running. Bath? I walked quietly into the huge room.
    Lenorre sat on the edge of the tub.
    “I thought you were starting the shower?” I narrowed my eyes.
    “The shower is too large.”
    “So? What’s your point?”
    Lenorre tilted her head to one side. “I shall be tempted to join you.”
    I closed my eyes and focused on breathing. “You just had to put that image in my head, didn’t you?”
    I heard the water shut off before I felt the weight of her presence in front of me. “That look on your face,” she said, voice low, “hearing the way the breath catches in your throat, listening to your heart as it skips a beat. Such intimacy pleases me greatly.”
    The word intimacy made my body tighten and the breath actually catch in my throat.
    “Why are you doing this?”
    “Because I want to know you want me.”
    “Can’t you see I do?”
    I heard her move around me, her energy like a gentle breeze, cool and untouchable.
    Her whisper echoed. “Kassandra, I want you to succumb to your desire.” She didn’t try to hide her British pronunciation, lilting the words in places I couldn’t imitate. Then again, I’d never been very good at accents. Lenorre didn’t accentuate her words harshly. Her smooth intonation was soft and purring, delectable and soothing at the same time, like silk and chocolate.
    I inhaled a shallow breath. “You want me to lose control for you?”
    “No, I want you to consent to succumb to your desires.”
    I turned and looked at her then. “I won’t.”
    “You will not allow yourself to succumb because you are afraid,” she said with an unblinking stare.
    I nodded and stared at the floor, not entirely thrilled that she was right. I hate admitting that I’m afraid more than I hate actually being afraid.
    Lenorre touched my jaw gently with two fingers, lifting my gaze back to hers. It reminded me of when we first met, only this time she wasn’t trying to help me control my beast.
    “You have been hurt,” she said, “as have we all. I want you to lose your fear, to lose your control, to lose the distance you place between us. I want you to stop running from me.”
    “I’m not running. I’m still standing here, aren’t I? If I was running, I wouldn’t be in this relationship.”
    “No, you are not running in a physical sense, but you have placed chains and shackles around your heart, trying to keep it safely in a cage, trying to force