Deathtrap (Crossbreed #3)(50)
Ugh. The idea of walking back to Keystone in the snow after all that had happened left me bitter. But I soldiered on and followed Christian down the ladder and through the alley, the wind at our backs and fresh snow having covered our tracks from the previous night. He didn’t ask for his coat, and I didn’t offer. But it felt good to be moving again, and it generated some much-needed body heat.
This time no one we passed gave me a second glance. I blended into the scenery with my scuffed shoes, dirty coat, rumpled hair, bloodstains, and sour look. Even with my nose healed, I could only imagine what my face must look like.
It was overcast with a light flurry, but the world seemed too bright to admire. We passed by a shirtless Vampire sitting on top of a broken intersection light, watching us with keen interest. His long black hair rippled in the wind, whereas the rest of him appeared as lifeless as a statue.
“Do they sleep outside?” I asked.
“Some of us don’t require sleep.” Christian rubbed a few flakes off his beard. “You’d be surprised what some of the buildings look like inside. A few rich bastards remodeled them into castles fit for a king. Some are in ruins but livable, others abandoned. It’s impossible to tell from the outside who’s making all the money. If Viktor hadn’t taken you in, this is likely where you would have ended up.”
“What about you?”
“I lived here a short while. But that was some years back.”
“You lived here?”
That offered me a new perspective. I’d seen Christian gleefully torture and murder men as part of our job, but it made me wonder what kind of man he was before Keystone to wind up in a place like this.
My stomach growled as we continued our march.
“Sounds like a wild boar in there,” he remarked. “We better get home while there’s still time for breakfast.”
I groaned. “This rotation thing isn’t working out.”
“Perhaps you can cater again,” he quipped.
“I would if I had my phone.”
After what must have been an hour, we reached the intersection where we’d abandoned Shepherd’s Jeep. I didn’t think anyone would steal it since it had an empty tank, and as we approached, the only thing different about it was a layer of snow on the hood and roof.
Christian slowed to a stop. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” He approached the vehicle and circled it, eyes brimming with disbelief. “They didn’t even take the tires!”
Even more astonishing was that the door was unlocked and nothing was stolen from the vehicle. I climbed inside to warm up and take a breather before we continued our walk.
Christian sat in the driver’s seat, and after he retrieved his sunglasses, he stared at the console. “If the battery’s still alive, maybe we can walk to a gas station and get enough fuel to move this thing out of here.”
“Sign me up for that plan.”
When he turned the ignition, the Jeep started up. It didn’t just turn on, it roared.
“Feck me.” He thumped his finger against the panel in front of him. “It says a full tank. Hand to God, it was empty when we left.”
“Maybe Shepherd needs to take it into the shop and get the needle checked. Sometimes they get stuck, or maybe it froze in the cold weather.”
Christian rubbed the back of his neck. “If I were a man who believed in fairies, I’d think one was playing tricks on us.”
That made me chuckle. “Maybe it was a leprechaun.”
He waved his hand. “Don’t start with the Irish jokes.”
“Did you bring your lucky clover?”
Christian gave me a cursory glance before turning the Jeep around. When I switched on Shepherd’s music, the chorus chanted: Let the bodies hit the floor.
“Now there’s some uplifting music,” Christian remarked, changing the station over to classical.
“Air on the G String,” I said, remembering it from music class back in high school. “I didn’t take you for a Bach man.”
“It’s easier on a Vampire’s ears. Be thankful you don’t have to suffer hearing every sound magnified.”
I slowly took off my gloves, staring at Christian’s profile. Sometimes when he was thinking, he would draw in his lower lip and lightly scrape his teeth against it. I noticed his scruffy hair covering the top of his ear and had a strange urge to tuck it back.
“Is it like that all the time?” I asked. “Hearing everything. Does it hurt?”
“When it comes to bright light, I’ve got these,” he said, tapping his finger against the sunglasses. “But filtering sound takes practice. A Vampire learns to block out noise, and I’m quite good at it. I don’t hear the engine running, but I can hear a cat howling in the alleyway. If I wanted to, I could silence every sound in the world but the breath in your lungs.”
My face flushed, and I turned my attention out the window to two men fighting in the street. One Mage blasted the other man with energy, and in a split second, the tall man’s eyes rolled from yellow to black.
“Chitah,” I said, locking my door. Once they went primal, they targeted anyone who looked like a threat.
The Chitah took on a predatory stance, flashing his upper and lower fangs as he circled the Mage. They were worthy adversaries. A Chitah could kill a Mage with his bite, and a Mage could take down a Chitah with enough energy blasts.