Bloodspell (The Cruentus Curse, #1)(81)

"Someone like Gabriel? We both saw where that got me."

"Victoria, this cannot be good for you no matter what you think you know. I am still a danger to you in every possible way. I can't be with you, and you shouldn't be with me. We are from different worlds, and what we were doing was not only reckless, it was wrong." His voice was dead, and if Victoria hadn't seen the agony in his eyes, she would have believed every hateful word that had left his lips. But she knew what he was doing—he was pushing her away.

"I already fear for my life just because of who I am, you think adding a little inconsequential vampire to the equation will change any of that?" She paused and her eyes went strangely blank as if something had occurred to her. "Or is it that you just don't want me?" she asked in a strangled voice.

"How could you possibly think that?" he said. "It's not you ..." He reached for her hands, and she pulled back, her face cold but her eyes bright with suppressed tears.

"That's it, isn't it? It's me. I'm just too young, too stupid, right?" she said. "I could never be as beautiful as that blond vampire woman, could I?"

In that instant, the obscure memory became clear, the one that had eluded her ever since she had first seen the blond woman—she had seen her when Christian had first let her go into his mind, into his memories. She was someone who had been close to him! More than close. Of course! The hot rush of understanding was like a blow to her stomach. They'd been lovers.

Christian couldn't help it, he started laughing, a derisive, humorless sound that echoed horribly in the car. "What does Lena have to do with anything?" he said, his confusion genuine.

"Nothing," Victoria said, jealousy exploding into every part of her. "Except that she's just beautiful and perfect and a vampire ... everything I am not and everything you could possibly want, so perfect for you. What was I then? Some kind of toy?"

"Victoria ... please ."

Christian didn't know how to respond to her comment about Lena as it had come from left field and he had no idea what prompted it. He held his hands out toward her and Victoria leaned away, her eyes flashing black fire.

"You're upset and you're not thinking clearly," he said, as if he were speaking to a skittish horse. Her eyes narrowed.

"Don't patronize me, Christian. I've never been clearer about anything in my life. But you! You can't even fight for what you want, even when it's right in front of you. Go ahead. Push me away if that makes you feel better about your own choices. Make this about me. And run back to your perfect little vampire existence without some gauche child like me screwing it up."

"Tori, that's not it at all. I can't give you what you want. Every time we touch, we have to think about how long the moment is going to last. We both hold back because we have to. You don't deserve that. You deserve someone who can love you without reservation, without fear of hurting you, someone within the rules."

"What do you know about what I want?"

"You told me, remember?" His eyes were gentle. "In the limousine on New Years Eve?"

"You know what I meant! It's not this or whatever you've decided is best for me!"

"You said you wanted more. I can't give you that, Victoria."

"Did you give it to her?"

Victoria stared at him, her eyes narrowed to slits as torturous thoughts of the beautiful woman kissing Christian spun wildly through her brain. They had been lovers, something she and Christian might never be!

"Victoria," he said. "Lena is no one important." Her eyes flared and he knew instinctively that he had said the wrong thing. For a moment, Christian felt real uncertainty as he stared into her black, black eyes. He could smell the sweetness of the blood, the magic amplifying its heady fragrance a hundred fold, and he could sense its wildness simmering just beneath her hard-won but fragile control of it. "I didn't mean—"

"No one important?" she said. "Is that why she is in so many of your memories? Don't lie to me! What do you want, Christian? Do you know what it is you want?"

Fight for me, please. Fight for us.

I can't, it's too dangerous. You could die.

I won't. We live by our own rules. Say the words, Christian.

The crossroads loomed. He felt it in her voice, she would let him go, if anything to save her battered pride, but there would be no going back. Pride would offer no second chances.

"What do you want?" she repeated.

Christian swallowed, his eyes tormented. He could never let her go.

"You. It's always been you."

The moment froze in time as her eyes grasped his, searching for truth in their depths, and Victoria let out the breath she'd unconsciously been holding. She didn't know who took the first step but it didn't matter as she slid into his arms, and then they were holding each other so tightly that neither of them could breathe. It felt like coming home.

They stood there for an eternity, neither of them noticing the lone figure standing in the darkest shadows across the street, silently watching, his face contorted with rage.





"ARE YOU SURE I look okay?" Victoria asked. Christian assured her that she did, and they walked down to the waiting limousine. "I can't believe I am going to meet a witch priestess!" she said. "I can't believe I am in Paris!"