He began tearing at my clothes as he drank from me. But no… no, I realized through my current fog that he wasn't frantically attempting to remove my clothes and make love to me on his desk, he was trying to hold on to me while Butch was wrenching him off of my body.
Thierry was strong, but Butch had leverage. I felt my blouse rip and a few buttons popped right off, and then Thierry was on his feet halfway across the room, his eyes black, the back of his hand held up against his mouth.
"I didn't want to interrupt." Butch sounded embarrassed. "But I think it's a good thing I did."
I touched my neck where I'd been bitten and blinked up at them.
I watched Thierry slowly come to the realization of what he'd just done. Pain and grief filled his expression.
"Sarah," he managed. "No, not again. I'm sorry. Dammit… I…"
"Forget it." I stood up from the desk and, still in my mental fog, walked toward him, threw my arms around him and kissed him hard on his mouth. I could taste my own blood on his lips.
Butch grabbed my blouse, succeeding in tearing it even more. I spun around to face him.
"Your eyes—" He looked worried. "Sarah, just calm down. We're going to find help.
There's something seriously wrong with you."
"You really think so?" I heard myself say. Then I grabbed him by his black T-shirt and threw him across the room. His head hit the wall hard and he slid down to the ground unconscious.
As soon as I saw that I'd effortlessly knocked out a three-hundred-pound bodyguard, I snapped out of my monster-madness daze.
Thierry immediately went over to Butch to make sure I hadn't killed him. Luckily he was just knocked out. I was shaking. I could tell by Thierry's expression as he looked up at me that he could see my distress and wanted to comfort me in some way, but we'd finally learned our lesson the hard way. No more physical contact until we'd figured this mess out.
He was about to say something and I held up my hand.
"Don't apologize again," I said shakily. "I'm the one who should."
"Sarah—"
"Please… just take Butch out of here. I need to be alone. In fact, I think it's safer for everyone involved if I stay in here until further notice."
He pulled Butch up to his feet. "I will get him some water. He'll be fine."
I nodded and moved safely behind the desk. Thierry glanced at me again over his shoulder as he left the office.
"It will all be all right," he said.
"I still believe it," I told him as firmly as I could.
And I did. I believed that everything would be okay. What choice did I have?
He left. His eyes had already returned to normal. I had a funny feeling that mine hadn't, and a quick quick in my shard pulled out of my purse confirmed it. Black as midnight and scary as hell. I still felt fuzzy around the edges. I touched the fresh fang marks on my throat and flinched.
I blinked and felt tears splash to my cheeks. This was so wrong. Everything about this was wrong. Damn curse. Damn that Stacy. And damn me for making her hate me enough to want to make my life a living hell.
I tried to find the positive in the situation, but the glass remained half empty.
A few minutes later no one had come to check on me—not that I blamed them—and the private phone line in Thierry's office began to ring. For lack of anything better to do, I reached over to pick it up.
"Haven," I said blandly.
"This is Veronique, who is this?"
I sat up straighter in the chair. "Veronique… it's… it's Sarah."
"Ah, Sarah, very good. I need to speak to my husband. It's rather urgent and he's not answering his cell phone."
Veronique had left Toronto a few weeks ago to head back to her home in France. She'd called a few times since and never seemed to recognize my voice. I tried not to take it too personally.
"He's occupied at the moment. Can I get him to call you back?"
She sighed and it sounded annoyed. "Occupied. Did he ask you to say that? Is he attempting to avoid me, for some strange reason?"
"Not that I'm aware of. Listen, I'll tell him that you called and he'll get back to you as soon as he can, okay?"
"No, it is not okay."
"What's the problem?"
"The problem…" She breathed out the words in her barely noticeable French accent. "Is that I have received paperwork from my husband that disturbs me greatly."
"What kind of paperwork?"
There was a long silence. "He has initiated an annulment of our marriage that he wishes for me to sign."
My mouth went dry. "Oh?" I tried to sound surprised. "An annulment, you say? How very odd and unexpected."
"I don't know what could have prompted this action. A Vatican vampire delivered the papers by hand only moments ago. He'd flown from Rome for this express purpose."
Vatican vampire?
"Well" I began cautiously. "Maybe Thierry wants you to have your freedom. I mean, you two don't live together, you don't spend any time together, for how long now? More than a hundred years?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"I'm just thinking that maybe this is something that has been in the works for a while."
There was a pause, and then, "Do you know what he states as the reason our marriage should be annulled?"
I twisted a finger into my hair and tried to will myself to relax. "No idea."
"That I had no intention of staying true to my vows of fidelity when we married."
I waited. "And?"