Chapter Forty-Six: Zara Ali

Present day

Outskirts of Albemarle, NC

"Twenty minutes," Adam proclaimed, storming down the stairs into the living area, where Zara was seated at the dining table. "Twenty minutes. Not a second longer." At this point he didn't know if he was referring to the time limit imposed before Raid had to be downstairs, or the amount of time he and Zara had been back at the house after collecting blood bags from the nearby hospitals. Probably both. "Why's everyone in this household Muslim all of a sudden? Where's Winifred? Can't she occupy Stef?"

"Not like that she can't," Zara grinned, but Adam's mood didn't lighten. Her eyes swirled upwards in their sockets. Raid hadn't once prayed while he was in the house and yet now Adam was bothered by it? She rested her elbow on the table, one leg crossed over the other, her fingers propped against her temple. "Winifred's spending the day with her daughter. What's up with you? Why are you getting so worked up about this?"

Adam dragged back the chair opposite her and sat down on it. He wasn't just worked up about this; he'd been worked up before he'd even got back. This just pushed him over the edge. He jabbed a finger upwards towards Raid's bedroom that overlooked the mezzanine. "The guy prays once – once, Zara – and instantly gets what he wants."

"Oh, so you're jealous that he's getting what he wants?"

"Damn right I am." Adam slouched down in unashamed sulkiness, staring moodily at the floor. Raid had been in love with Stef for years. He knew he should be happy for him – deep down he was – but it was just reminding him of what he didn't have – of what he couldn't do.

Of what he wanted to do.

Zara slapped her palm against the table, leaning forward in her seat. "And what exactly do you want?"

It was like she'd read his mind. His eyes instantly darted up at her. Firm. Searing. Every muscle in his body tense. She wanted him to say it. She was playing a game with him that he didn't know how to win because he forgot all the rules whenever he was around her.

He hadn't been in a bad mood all day. They'd actually had a lot of fun this morning. Sneaking around the hospitals, compelling staff, stealing uniforms, pretending to be people they weren't. It made him forget who he was; this time without the cameras and crew of the TV studio. It was just the two of them playing make-believe. For a moment, he was Dr Adam Ali, cardiologist with a striking, unrelated resemblance to Adam Vaziri, and irresistible to a newly-encountered, red-headed nurse that Zara immediately compelled to stop flirting with him. Her jealousy had given Adam's hope a boost. Then, when Zara donned a lab coat and jokingly referred to herself as Dr Zara Vaziri to receptionists, Adam felt his hope shoot skywards to unrealistic levels. He liked that name on her tongue, and he didn't want that to be the last time he heard it. But his hope fell further and further back down to earth each time he deliberately brushed his hand against hers, yearning to interlace their fingers, and she'd recoiled from his touch. It landed a serious hit to his pride and, yes, he knew he was acting like a child about it.

Adam's darkened eyes made Zara's back straighten. There was an answer in his stare that made her nervous. And she didn't get nervous.

Now it was Adam who leaned forwards. "What I want," he said slowly, throwing the rule book out the window, "is to get fucking drunk." He stood from the chair, rounded the table, and headed towards the bar, leaving Zara flabbergasted.

"What?!" she snapped.

"You heard me!" He passed the library door, out of sight.

It took Zara a fraction of a second to catch up with him with her vampire speed, but he was already taking out a drinking glass. "You're not going to do this."

"Why not?" he asked, banging the glass down on the counter. "Raid does it."

"Raid doesn't regret it afterwards," Zara argued. "You would."

She wasn't wrong. Adam already knew he would regret it. He didn't want alcohol. He wanted exactly what Raid had... and he wanted it with Zara. But, since that wasn't going to happen, he was going to settle for being mind-numbingly drunk instead. "Let me worry about that," he replied, reaching for a bottle of bourbon.

Zara grabbed hold of the neck of the bottle, not caring that her hand was now wrapped over his. "If you drink this, then so do I."

Adam was frozen beneath her touch. The touch he'd wanted all morning. The touch she was only giving him to save him from himself. Was she serious? She wasn't the type to bluff, and he wasn't the type to drag her down with him. He looked down at her fingers lightly rubbing over his, and – as though she suddenly realized how much her touch meant to him – she immediately withdrew her hand, keeping stern eyes on him.

Adam placed the bottle down. Did he hate how she was always one step ahead of him? Or was that what attracted him to her? Either way, he wasn't about to let her win this one. His eyes roamed around the room, finally falling on a champagne saber on display behind the bar counter. "You want a drink, Zara?" he asked tightly. "Fine. I'll give you one."

He stormed around the other side of the bar, leaving Zara to throw her head back, exasperated. Then, hearing him lift the saber from its wooden stand, she turned her head towards him, slow bemusement forming.

"Don't try to stop me," he ordered, raising the saber above his palm, positioned over the glass.

Zara's lips tugged slightly inwards to avoid them tweaking upwards. "I wouldn't dare."

Adam pressed the saber into his palm, and dragged.

No blood. His skin remained intact.

Zara laughed softly at his confused expression. "It's a ceremonial saber, Adam," she informed him. "It's completely blunt."

Adam sighed heavily, dropping the saber with a clatter onto the countertop. Always one step ahead of him. "And there goes my last shred of dignity."

Zara's smile faded and she lowered her eyes. She knew exactly why Adam was feeling this way. She hadn't meant to keep pulling away from him, it had become a reflex. Only he didn't know why. She let out a breath. If he was losing his dignity, she might as well join him. "Adam..?" she started.

He was now leaning over, elbows on the counter, face lowered, hands gripping his hair. A man defeated. "Yeah?"

"The day I turned into a vampire, I was engaged." Her words instantly made Adam raise his head and listen without interruption. "It was an arranged marriage, I'd only known him a few days, but he was handsome and successful and he told me it was love at first sight. We planned to get married after I finished college. It only took me those few days to start feeling the same way about him. So I did something I regret: I started letting him touch me. Nothing too inappropriate... just a stroke of my face, a hand around my waist, on my knee... his hand in mine." She looked at Adam, who had already started to recognize the similarities, already fearing where this was going. "I won't go into details, but it wasn't enough, and he kept pushing my boundaries until I started avoiding him, started questioning whether to break off the engagement. Then, one day, he saw me walking alone, pulled me into his car, and drove me to a remote location. He tried to force himself on me – tried to take my virginity before marriage – and I fought and fought but he punched me until my jaw broke. I was too weak to stop him. Luckily someone else did."

"Gabe?" Adam asked hopefully.

Zara nodded, holding back tears. "He saw me get dragged into the car, and he followed behind us."

"Please tell me he killed him."

"He did." Zara confirmed. Of course he did. "Gabe asked me if I wanted to be compelled to forget it, but I didn't. I didn't want to make the same mistake again. So he gave me his blood to heal me – warning me to take care on the drive back because I'd turn into a vampire if I died with it in my system – and left me with his number in case I ever needed help again. But on the drive home, all I could think about was Gabe's strength and speed and how no man could have stood a chance against him. I wanted that power for myself. So I pulled the car off the road, hit the accelerator, and drove it into a tree." Zara took a deep breath, pushing back her old memories and planting herself firmly in the present. "It's not that I'm terrified of men touching me – not when I know I can overpower them now – but it's a lot more frightening when..." she paused briefly, her heart catching in her throat "...when I want them to touch me." Zara's amber-blue eyes fixed onto Adam's.

There were too many emotions for Adam to process. He was angry at the guy who'd attacked her – the guy he couldn't even bring himself to think of as her fiancé – and so very glad he was dead. He made a mental note to ask Gabe to describe to him how it felt to see him as scared as he'd made her. He felt sad for everything Zara had been through, wanting to hold her, to protect her, knowing he couldn't, knowing fine well she could now protect herself better than he ever could, and the huge sacrifice she made just to feel safe in the world. Finally – and most selfishly – he was relieved... because he knew now that she hadn't rejected him. The closer she felt to him, the more off limits she became. Until marriage. That he could fucking respect... because that's exactly what he was going to offer her.

"Don't give me that look," she suddenly snapped, pointing her finger in his face.

He was broken from his thoughts, unaware he'd been giving her a look. "What look?"

"I didn't tell you that just to be pitied," she told him. "I'm not delicate, I'm not fragile, and – before you even say it – I know that holding hands is not an invitation for more –"

"Well, it fucking isn't," he blurted. "I hated you saying you regretted letting him touch you, like you think you led him on! I would consider it a fucking honor just to hold your hand! I would consider it a fucking honor that you agreed to marry me at all! I would consider it a fucking honor to lose our virginities to each other on our damn wedding night!"

Zara rasped her lips. "Oh, that asshole was far from a virgin."

"I wasn't talking about him!"

Zara took a step backwards, stunned. No way. He had to be joking. "You're not a virgin." She said it as a clear, irrefutable statement.

"Wallah I'm a virgin," Adam declared.

"You dated a different woman every week when you were in Canada!"

Adam straightened. "And how do you know that?"

"Because I was sent there to spy on you! To make sure you were safe."

Adam's eyebrows shot up. "You... what now?" There was silence as it sunk in. He was surprised... and yet not surprised. But was he mad about it? He didn't think he was. If that was really the case, Zara had known him for years, and something about that wrapped around his heart, justifying everything he felt for her. Then again, maybe she didn't know him at all if she really thought he'd been sleeping around.

Zara opened her mouth to explain. Then decided to turn and storm into the living area instead.

"Oh no, this conversation isn't over," Adam declared, following her. "How exactly did you spy on me? Were there binoculars?"

"Sometimes," she answered casually, heading towards the sofas.

"Was I dressed?"

She sat down, folding her arms, not looking at him. She shrugged. "Sometimes." Shirtless to be specific, but she wasn't elaborating.

Adam stood at the arm of the sofa, smirking down at her. "Did you like what you saw?"

Zara turned her head, her eyes meeting with his, a small smirk of her own forming. "Sometimes."

Adam rolled his tongue against his lips, chuckling. This woman had his heart in a chokehold. He finally sighed in defeat. He didn't owe her an explanation but he didn't want her to believe he was lying. "I didn't date a new woman every week because I slept around. I dated a new woman every week because they lost interest the moment I told them I was saving myself for marriage. One said it was an excuse, a cover up, because I'm impotent or have a micropenis or some shit."

"Do you?"

"Fuck, no!" Adam burst out loudly, extremely offended.

Usually Zara would have been screaming with laughter at his reaction, but this time she just lowered her gaze. She'd misjudged him. The only reason she'd been keeping him at a distance was because she wrongly assumed he was promiscuous and was only interested in her as another notch on his bedpost. "I'm sure one of them would have married you," she stated indifferently.

"Maybe," Adam replied. "Except I never met a woman I wanted to marry... until now."

Zara instantly covered her mouth, but the smile was already at her eyes. This couldn't be happening. The romantic side of her wanted to tap her feet in excitement, but the more dominant, pragmatic side made her shake her head in disbelief. "We've only just met. I don't know you that well."

Adam took a seat next to her. "You've been spying on me, so tell me what you do know, and I'll fill in the rest."

Zara pressed her hands into the seat, pivoting towards him, taking a breath like she'd been waiting for this opportunity for a while and had a lot to say. "Well, firstly, you put peppered garlic on everything and, while the legend isn't true that vampires are afraid of garlic, they can damn well get sick of it. Secondly, you get manicures – no elaboration necessary. Thirdly, you sing along to the radio in your car, and you can't hit the high notes for all the garlic in the world –"

"Things you like about me, Zara!" Adam laughed.

Zara smiled, not even realizing she'd only been listing the negatives. There were plenty of positives, but she wasn't about to inflate his ego with them. She let her eyes roam over him, finding nothing she didn't like. Her gaze lingered a little too long on his neck. "I like... the fact that you're the first man I ever fed on," she whispered, her voice uncharacteristically coy.

"But you've not fed –" He stopped. The penny dropped. "Wait, really?"

"Don't get too excited," she warned him. Then, feeling more comfortable with his touch, she took hold of the back of Adam's hand, separating his thumb from the rest of his fingers, and slowly brought it up to her mouth. She waited to see if he would ask for more – whether he would demand her mouth on his neck instead – but he continued to wait, his eyes completely captivated by the anticipation of this small intimacy.

She opened her mouth, extended her teeth, and bit the tip of his thumb with her fang.

He didn't suck in a breath like she expected. Instead he exhaled in relief. He enjoyed a little pain. But that was something else she already knew about him.

Zara closed her eyes as she gently grazed her lips over the blood, drawing it into her mouth, barely touching him. As soon as it reached her tongue, she instantly wanted more, and a small whimper escaped her, reminding her that it wouldn't happen. She wouldn't let it happen.

Adam was hypnotized by the sound she made, the blood against her mouth, her tongue running along her lips. Of course he wanted her to take more, but that's all she was comfortable with, and the significance of the gesture was more than he could have ever wished for.

Until she offered him a second gesture.

She bit into her own thumb and held it out to him.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm sure." She wanted to see his reaction, whether he would be as gentle as she was, or whether he would press his mouth against her hand and turn her intimate offering into something more sordid.

So she was surprised to discover that, when he took her blood into his mouth, his touch wasn't as light as hers.

It was lighter.

She smiled as she withdrew her hand from his mouth. He passed her trust test with flying colors. "And that's all you're getting," she said, unsure whether she was telling him or reminding herself.

He smirked. "Until our wedding night."

Suddenly, a distant but all too clear scream of pleasure escaped Stef's mouth from Raid's bedroom, causing Zara to spin her head in the direction of his door.

Oh, hell, no. Raid was not getting the attention of both women tonight.

"Zara, eyes on me," Adam demanded.

Surprisingly, she did as she was told. Amber-blue locked onto honey brown, unblinking and unwavering. Stef's scream was now muffled between her teeth, no longer audible to Adam, but Zara's hearing was inescapably tuned in, now impossible to ignore. Tingles spread throughout her body, her thighs clamped together, her fingers digging into the sofa leather.

"You can still hear her," Adam observed, feeling the tension radiating from Zara. "Don't you dare tune in to him. Just her."

Zara was sure her heart was racing as fast as Stef's was, the tingles travelling south, her imagination on overdrive, hearing the moans, the gasps, the cries... bursting and fading, bursting and fading more... and seeing Adam. Nothing but Adam.

She didn't look away. Not once. Not until the sound ended, her breath released, and the tension disappeared.

Adam was still watching her, his lips twitching into a smile. "When I marry you," he promised smugly, "I'm going to make your screams of pleasure louder than that."

Zara narrowed her eyes at him, ignoring the thrill his words shot through her. "If you marry me."

"When I marry you," he corrected her firmly.

"I haven't agreed to anything."

"You will," he maintained confidently.

A door slammed above them but it didn't break the eye contact Adam and Zara had with each other. Footsteps travelled down the stairs into the living area.

"I know, I know, I'm late, but it was worth it, so I don't care," Raid griped, adjusting the clothes he'd quickly thrown on.

Adam continued smirking at Zara as he replied back to Raid. "Do you hear me complaining?"

"No," Raid admitted. "I guess my prayers have already been answered."

"So have mine," Adam beamed, giving Zara a cheeky wink as he stood from the sofa and turned towards his cousin. "We'll take the gym – it has an adjoining washroom – and Zara can take the..." he swung his head back towards her suggestively "...bedroom?"

"Shut the fuck up," she hissed. The only urge she had to release was wiping the smug smile off his face. She would slap him if she knew he wouldn't enjoy it.

"Don't forget to wash your mouth out," he grinned, quickly dashing towards the gym door before she could retaliate.

Raid rolled his eyes as he followed Adam towards the gym. "We both really need to stop pissing off vampires," he muttered, closing the door behind him.

Finally alone, Zara cupped her face in her hands, squealing quietly in joy, her legs making kicky movements of excitement. This was not like her – she did not react this way – but she couldn't help herself. Adam Vaziri... wanted... to marry her! She was dying to tell Stef. She might not have agreed to it yet, but she was sure she would. Just the thought of it was leaving her breathless.

But that's it; her little adolescent freak-out was now over, done, finished, and she stood from the sofa, resuming her regular, cool composure.

Then there was a knock at the front door.

That was odd. Nobody ever knocked. This house didn't receive visitors.

She hurried towards the door, reminding herself that the house was warded against magic, against witches. The knock turned into a thud. Witches also weren't that damn impatient. Whoever it was, they were definitely human.

Zara cracked open the door just enough to see who was outside.

Oh shit! She would have preferred a witch.

Thick auburn hair, fake nails, and designer clothes turned to face Zara, looking her up and down with distain.

The woman crossed her arms. "Oh, cut me a break and tell me you're not his secret wife."

Zara had no idea how she'd found him, no idea why she was here instead of Canada, but the woman in front of her was Lorraine Pieterse.

Raid's ex-girlfriend.