Deathtrap (Crossbreed #3)(49)

“I can’t. I’m afraid of him.” I clenched my fists at the admission. I’d hunted down all types of nefarious men. But my own Creator, I couldn’t bring myself to go after. “He brought me to a place where I felt less than human—like a possession or an animal. I can’t. You don’t understand what it’s like. He’s got some kind of power over me.”

“His light is inside you. I understand a little about that. It’s not much different from how blood ties you to your Vampire maker. There will always be a connection you can’t deny, but that doesn’t mean he owns you.”

I sat Indian style and leaned forward. “My brain tells me that. But there’s a voice inside me that warns me not to open that door again. As much as I want him dead, I’m not ready to revisit that place in my life. If it doesn’t kill me, it’ll take what’s left of my soul. It took me years of struggle to become the person you know. Maybe that’s not saying much, but if you saw who I was then…”

My lip quivered, and I turned my head away. I’d successfully switched off my emotions these past few years—that was why I was impervious to fear—but now the floodgates were opening, and it made me furious. “I guess now you think I’m an emotional basket case.”

“Tears don’t make you weak,” he said. “Fear does. Weep all you want over what happened to you; that’s your right. But never give someone your fear. That’s power. That’s control.”

I wiped my nose and grimaced from the pain. “You’re always telling me to leave the past behind, and now you want me to dig it up? That’s not what Viktor would want me to do.”

I turned to look, and Christian’s jaw set.

“I’ll keep watch,” he said, finally standing up. “With all this chattering, someone’s liable to hear us.”

I ignored the old me for just ten seconds and stood up, turning Christian around so we were facing each other. My hands rested on his straight shoulders, and our breath clouded the air between us. “Thank you for saving me,” I whispered.

His warm fingertips touched my cheeks as he held my gaze. The old me would have looked away from his penetrating Vampire eyes, but Christian and I were caught in a thread of time where the past and present overlapped. I wasn’t looking at a Vampire or even my partner. I was looking at the man who’d stolen me from the arms of death.

There was nothing more intimate.

He leaned in and kissed the corner of my mouth, and my breath caught.

“Déjà vu,” I said, puzzled by the emotions ripening in me like a familiar fruit I’d tasted once before.

A forbidden fruit.

Christian’s scruffy beard brushed against my chin, and he held that torturous position for longer than I could bear. There was a softness to his lips, the way they touched mine without kissing, and his smell was intoxicating. Maybe Vampires didn’t have a unique scent to Chitahs, but there were subtle nuances. It was as if I could smell his blood. When my fangs slid down, he cradled my neck possessively, and I leaned into him.

Dark hunger burned in his eyes, but what I was feeling was so powerful that it went beyond lust. I’d come full circle, finally face-to-face with the man I’d kept on a pedestal my entire life. And yet Christian had turned out to be the very Breed I loathed—the part of me I shunned.

We didn’t kiss, and yet that “almost” kiss was the most passionate I’d ever known.

“I’m a different man,” he said, still holding my gaze. “Colder. But if you asked me to do it all again, knowing what I know now… I would.”





Chapter 15





After running the full gamut of emotions and expending all my Mage energy, I’d fallen asleep. I woke up bone-cold, lying amid rotted papers stained with my blood.

Yet…

“Your face was a mess,” Christian said from the opposite side of the filing cabinets, his arms folded. “It was only a drop.”

I touched my nose and ran my fingers down the straight bone. There was still blood clotted in my nostrils, but it wasn’t swollen or broken that I could tell. “You force-fed me your blood?”

“That would imply against your will.”

“I was unconscious.”

“Oh, for feck’s sake. I didn’t play with your fanny in the night. A few drops of my blood on your tongue was all it took to heal your face. You barely stirred in your sleep. For what it’s worth, the sun didn’t come out this morning, so you might want to thank me.”

I rubbed my stiff neck, deciding to let it slide. I felt much better than I did six hours ago, aside from the fact I probably looked like one of Wyatt’s ghosties.

After staggering to my feet, I rubbed my eyes and stretched. Even though I’d fallen asleep on the concrete, I vividly remembered waking up with my head on Christian’s lap. He must have also put his coat all the way on me since I didn’t recall doing it myself. I tucked my hands inside the pockets and fished around until I found a piece of candy to remove the taste of blood in my mouth.

And not my blood.

I popped the mint in my mouth and crunched on it. When I shook out my hair, particles of dust and dirt floated to the ground. “What are we going to tell Shepherd about his Jeep?”

Christian strode over to the opening in the wall and turned away from it. “I don’t give a shite what he says. Assuming it’s still there, we’re heading back to get my sunglasses before walking home.”