Bloodspell (The Cruentus Curse, #1)(42)

Victoria longed to touch the expanse of smooth porcelain skin and she gave in to the temptation, running her fingertips across his shoulders and down the line of the silvery writing. He didn't move. His skin felt smooth and hard like it was stretched taut over granite; the muscles didn't even jump reflexively at her soft caress.

"Christian," she whispered. He didn't move. "Christian, are you awake?" she said more loudly. Nothing. It was as if he were dead. Victoria laughed to herself, given what he actually was, that was understandable. She leaned closer and moved her lips to his ear, one hand pressing down onto his right shoulder blade to support herself.

In the space of half a second, Victoria found herself flipped roughly onto her back, a snarling face inches from her own. He had her arms pinned to her side and she stared in horror at the familiar face she could barely recognize. His eyes were slits, his face twisted in a ferocious grimace, and his teeth! Long, white and deadly. She felt the amulet blaze.

"Christian!" she said, her throat thick with terror. "Stop it. Stop IT!"

He was somewhere else. She shouldn't have touched him, she realized too late, and now he was milliseconds away from her throat. Even in its transformation, his face was savagely beautiful. Despite her shock, she felt an unfamiliar warmth settle in her chest.

Victoria had two choices: the first was to hurl him away but she knew that his death grip on her arms meant that she could go flying with him; the second was to teleport herself to another place in the room.

Calling on her power, she felt the magic begin to flow in her veins as she focused her energy. If only she had more experience with teleporting! She fought her rising panic and the spell faltered. As she felt his hot breath on her face, Victoria knew she had no choice.

"Transeo!" she shouted.

She focused on the dresser across the room and in a split second she was at the other side of the room. Dizziness made her knees buckle, causing her head to collide with the dresser's sharp top edge. At the same time, the furious growl of a predator deprived of his prey filled the room. Even in her lightheadedness, Victoria knew the wetness on the side of her face was blood.

The air thickened as Christian flew toward her with lightening speed, pinning her against the wall. Her hands pushed with futile resistance against his chest. His eyes were wild with hunger as his face hung inches from hers. But Christian hesitated, his slitted eyes squinting warily. She could feel him studying the trickle of blood on her cheek but he seemed reluctant, afraid even, to take it. That single split second gave her time to react.

With Herculean strength, she pushed her hands against his chest and slid them up his corded neck. She grasped his face with her hands, her magic lending her strength to keep him still. His eyes were feral. She stared into them, letting him see her, willing him to see her. The rampant energy coursed like a river into her hands, suddenly powerful in that moment, and without a doubt, Victoria knew that she could kill him in an instant.

Open to me, she commanded. He resisted.

Victoria gathered her power, and entered his mind. She could see the vampire in him, hungry and wild, pacing like a starving lion.

"Soporo," she said. She felt its recognition, and slowly as her fingers soothed the rigid planes of his face, the beast's wildness ebbed as her magic compelled. After several long moments, she withdrew.

Faced with a different pair of silver-gray eyes, Victoria felt absurdly self-conscious, his expression equal parts of sorrow, fear and awe. His tried to speak but no words came, and he could only stare at her helplessly.

"It's okay," she whispered.

"No. it's not. I attacked you ... like an ... animal," he choked. Grief and remorse lined his face and transferred in force from his thoughts in violent waves. How close had he come to hurting her? Hurting her!

"Christian, don't."

She understood now that he'd been controlled purely by instinct. Something about her blood had driven him far beyond his own meticulous control of himself. Something about her blood ...

Ignoring the sour feeling in her stomach, she raised herself on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, tenderly kissing the monstrous face that had seconds before been desperate to kill her. Christian's lips tightened against hers, sheathing his sharp white incisors, and he pulled away. He ran his hand down the side of her temple where she had hit her head. She winced. He paused, looking at her carefully. Victoria stared at the ground; she already knew what he was going to ask.

"Is your blood normally that dark?"

"No more than usual. Actually it's dark in here." She couldn't look at him.

Christian tilted her chin up and said, "Tori, look at me." She raised wary eyes to his, wanting so badly to tell him but knowing that she couldn't just yet. She couldn't trust anyone with her family's deep, dark secret. Not after Leto had warned her, and especially not after what she'd just done. She forced herself to look confused, as if she didn't know what he was talking about.

"It isn't just its color, it's the smell of it too." Christian's jaw clenched at the mere thought of it. "It's so pure," he said, struggling for the words to describe what he wanted to say, "so untainted. I don't think I'm explaining clearly, but it's like nothing I have ever smelled ... like it's not human blood, which I know makes no sense at all."

Victoria pulled away and shrugged, needing to escape the penetrating intensity of his eyes. She settled for telling him a veiled half-truth.