Bloodspell (The Cruentus Curse, #1)(35)

"Wait, don't answer that," she said. "I don't care."

She steeled herself against his gaze and focused her mind toward his. She was met with the same brick wall as before. Without a second thought, she looked at him head on and released the full force of her power, engaging everything she'd learned about herself and her magic over the last few weeks. Christian's lips parted and his eyes widened in astonishment. Within seconds, it was over and she deftly mixed a drink, placing a Bloody Mary on the table in front of him.

"It was the closest thing we had to what you wanted, and you're underage so virgin it is."

An amused smile crossed his face but he picked up the drink and inclined his head toward her. Everyone cheered. He sipped it as she disappeared out the back yelling to Tony that she was going to take a few minutes to herself.

Victoria sat in the small break room holding a glass of water and took a deep calming breath. The Bloody Mary had been a wild guess, because for some reason, she couldn't get past the feeling that he wanted a drink with the word blood in it. She cast her thoughts back. She wasn't sure how she'd done it, but when she had pushed past Christian's initial defenses, she'd seen a lot.

What had really surprised her was the barely discernable energy she had sensed, as if he possessed special abilities himself. Something told her that he was hiding more, deeper still, because just as she'd withdrawn, she'd felt something else, but it was so brief she wasn't sure what it'd been.

She'd also seen his regret for how he'd behaved but he'd been wearing that on his sleeve the minute he had walked through the door. It had gone some way to mollifying her hurt, until she understood something else inside his head, something that had made the breath whoosh out of her in a painful rush; a thought he'd wanted to keep hidden but still flashed loud and clear—they could never be together.

Enough is enough, she told herself fiercely. You have your answer. Move on.

When she came back out to the front, she felt Christian watching her, but she deliberately did not look at him and walked down to the opposite end of the bar where Charla and Angie were saying their goodbyes.

"You guys heading out?" Victoria said to Angie.

"Charla has an assignment due tomorrow, so we're going to call it a night."

"Can I ask you something?" Victoria whispered, leaning in. When Angie nodded surprised, she continued. "When we were talking last week, you said something about Christian Devereux being colorless. What did you mean by that?"

"That's what I meant. Colorless." Victoria's blank stare made Angie clarify. "As in no color at all. As in dead," she said. Angie leaned closer to Victoria, her stringent face anxious. "He's not good for you, Tori."

Victoria was so stunned by the fact that Angie had called her Tori that she barely took in the fact that Angie was warning her off.

"Wait, I don't understand what you mean by dead."

"He's not human."

As if she'd said too much, Angie gave her a searching look and left without another word. Victoria could feel Christian's eyes boring into her.

Not human. Not human. Not human.

The words drummed in time with her chaotic pulse, making her palms clammy.

Tori, look at me. The silent command was inviting, compelling. Victoria's heart raced even as her brain registered that his words had been spoken inside her head.

Why should I? So I can serve as your punching bag some more?

She felt his sadness. I am sorry. It's ... complicated.

How complicated can it be, Christian? You've made it pretty clear how you feel about me every time you are near me. It's exhausting. I just want you to stay away from me.

I ... cannot.

I am not doing this with you. I won't. I can feel every part of you pushing me way. If I'm that horrible, then just leave me alone.

Tori, look at me. She clenched her teeth as he opened himself to her, the raw feelings he conveyed undermining her will far more than any words could. She steeled herself. She'd seen all of his excuses, all the reasons why he couldn't allow himself to feel anything for her. She didn't understand why, but it'd been as clear as day—he was not meant for her.

Please, Tori, he said.

No.

You must. She felt the surge of his compelling magnetism. She brushed it aside like a troublesome fly, turning to look him directly in the eye.

I don't know who or what you are, but try that again, and I will hurt you. Get out of my head, Christian! She held his gaze before her final push. You are not meant for me.

Although she knew he was prepared, especially after the last time she'd knocked him over, it gave her great satisfaction to see his eyes widen as she forcefully shoved him out, erecting an impenetrable fortress around her mind. She moved further down the bar to put as much distance between them as possible and gravitated recklessly toward a familiar face.

"Hi Gabe!" she said over-brightly, throwing caution to the wind. Her tone was warm and flirtatious.

Gabriel leaned forward, his tanned forearms pressing on the bar, giving her a charming smile of his own. "So if I said it was my birthday, what would be my drink of choice?" His tone matched hers, and Victoria was too agitated to listen to the voice of reason in her head. She gave him a coy smile, leaning forward.

"Is it your birthday, Gabriel?"