Bloodspell (The Cruentus Curse, #1)(38)

Angie shrugged at the horrified expression Victoria knew she must have on her face. "Don't worry, they're not that bad," she said, and then paused, reconsidering her words. "Most of them, anyway. They tend to stick with their own kind, like what you'd usually see, the jocks and the Mathletes and the—what do you call them again? Oh right, the Stepfords."

The thought of where Christian would fit in flashed through Victoria's mind. Her question was tentative, but she wanted to know. "Angie? When you said that Christian wasn't human, what did you mean? What, exactly, is he?"

Before Angie could answer, someone stopping at their table interrupted their quiet conversation. It was the boy who'd been over by the drinks. Victoria saw Angie blanch.

"Hey Tori, you heading to class?" Wolfboy's voice was guttural despite his slight appearance. Victoria glanced at Angie who'd gone perfectly still. Her fear, though veiled, was real.

"Hey Matt. Sure," Victoria said. "I'll catch you later, Angie."

As she gathered her things, Victoria hesitated. Maybe there was a way she could see as Angie did. Without looking at Matthew, she pushed her senses out toward him as unobtrusively as possible, the reverse of what she'd done with Christian. Holding her breath, Victoria peeled past Matthew's human glamour and slid into his mind.

It felt ... raw, and distinctly not human. The amulet flared against her skin. She pushed deeper and then recoiled in immediate horror as the truth of what he was flashed into her consciousness in terrifying, gruesome, graphic detail. She stepped back, her eyes snapping to Angie's. Angie glared at her and Victoria remembered what she'd said about being careful.

"You ready?" Wolfboy asked. Victoria let the glamour slip back into place. She tried to focus on his boyish face and ignore the fact that he was a ferocious beast who could tear anyone limb from limb in seconds.

"R ... ready?"

"For the test?" Matt raised thin blond eyebrows questioningly but all Victoria saw was the memory of callused ridges of hairy flesh above a flattened, elongated snout, and orange-hued lightless eyes. She fought back a shudder.

"As ready as I can be." For a second, Victoria wasn't sure whether she was talking about the midterm or something else entirely.

She felt Angie's eyes on them the entire way out of the building.

THE AFTERNOON HAD turned into a dark, cold evening by the time Victoria finished her final midterm for Calculus, and she pulled her jacket tighter as she walked down the library steps to the parking lot. Charla had called earlier asking her to meet up for dinner, but she was far too tired. Her brain was still spinning with a nauseating combination of derivatives, limits and quotients, and fairies, werewolves and witches. She just wanted to get back to her apartment, eat some takeout, and go to bed.

She unlocked and started her car with a single unspoken command to warm the engine and get the heat going, and almost jumped out of her skin when she saw Christian leaning against the hood of his silver car parked opposite hers. Her heart hammered to life.

"Impressive," he said. Victoria stared at him silently. Everything else in her head disappeared but him. There was so much she wanted to say, to apologize for. She knew that she had hurt him by kissing Gabe and no matter what had happened between them or what she'd seen in his thoughts, he hadn't deserved it.

"Christian ..." she began.

"Have dinner with me, Tori," he said. His face was haunted, his eyes shadowed but inviting. Victoria knew that she couldn't refuse him, and even as tired as she was and despite everything she'd learned from Angie, she only wanted to be near him again. So she nodded and relocked her car.

The ride to Christian's house was silent, and other than the soft background noise, the only sound in the car was their breathing. He looked tired, his angular face made even sharper by the shadows under his eyes, but still her pulse raced at his closeness. She felt her breath stop when he quietly slid his hand into hers as they pulled into his curving driveway.

They walked into the foyer of the house and Victoria bit back a gasp. It was as magnificent on the inside as it had appeared from the outside. Warm, rich mahogany floors led into a large entrance hall with two sweeping curved staircases winged out on either side. Beautiful cathedral ceilings opened up to a prism-like sky light in the foyer.

Christian, still silent, pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair. It wasn't at all what she'd expected. Her heart drummed a familiar tune in her chest, a tune that every logical part of her fought futilely against. She didn't want him to be this way—she preferred him arrogant or hateful, not soft and contrite as he was now. It made it too difficult to be indifferent and to not give in to her bewildering feelings for him.

He moved, pressing his cool cheek against her hair. "Christian, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean—"

"It's forgotten. I was the cause, I see that now."

"But you didn't deserve—"

He pressed his thumb over her lips quieting her, and brushed it back and forth, his face strained and unreadable, but warm. "Why don't we start over?" he said. "I'm Christian."

"Tori," she whispered.

"Enchanté, Tori." He kissed her on both cheeks in the French custom and Victoria felt as if her knees were melting.

She hesitated, still wary, but didn't move until Christian took her hand and led her toward the back of the house where there was a large, comfortable den. As they sat down, a tiny Asian man appeared, carrying a tray of food along with a bottle of red wine, which he placed on the coffee table. He left as silently as he had come in.