Keystone (Crossbreed #1)(32)

“Pardon?”

“You were supposed to be there and you weren’t.”

“For your information, this wasn’t an elaborate plan to sabotage you. If I wanted you gone, I’d drain you and bury you in the east cemetery. Now what happened?”

I lifted my eyelid and removed the contact lens from my blue eye. “This,” I said, balancing it on the tip of my finger. “It jinxed me.”

He scanned my body, which was covered with blood. “Is the dry shite dead?”

“I popped his cork.”

He furrowed his brow, not understanding. “How many drinks did you have this evening? You really know how to pick ’em. I would have gone for the little guy.”

I flicked the lens at him. “Then maybe you should have worn the dress.”

He winked. “Afraid it’s too short to accentuate all my curves.”

I closed my eyes, a gentle breeze cooling my face. The air smelled of wet earth, pine, and my beer-stained dress. I’d never been in a predicament like this where I was so gravely wounded. Owen had put up a heck of a struggle, and I’d lost a lot of blood in the process. I had my legs stretched out in front of me—the holster still strapped to my right thigh but missing the dagger. My left leg was a mess since a lot of the blood had gushed down to my foot when I stumbled out of the car. I wasn’t sure where my heels had gone.

Christian marched over to the vehicle, yanked out the dead body, and flung him into the open. It was almost comical to watch.

“Jaysus wept. It looks like you played pin the fang on the jugular in there.”

“I ran into a snag.”

Christian straddled the Mage, staring down at him. He could give a shadow a run for its money.

“A dagger in the heart was a nice touch,” he offered.

I glanced at the handle poking out from the Mage’s chest. “That one’s his, so just leave it there.”

“Exactly how did you manage to kill a Mage without cutting off his head? I thought you were draining your victims and juicing them to the point of death, but his wounds are still oozing.”

“It’s a family secret,” I murmured, knowing he could still hear me.

After another moment, he stood up and kicked the body. “Viktor’s going to have a conniption.”

“Let him.”

Christian turned a sharp eye toward me. “If we’re not able to cover this up, we’ll lose more than just a shot at Darius. It could be the downfall of Keystone.”

“If I had to do it over again, I would have killed him in the bar and put him in your lap.”

His jaw set.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I said, my voice weakening. “I had no choice. My guard was nowhere in sight.”

“I thought you didn’t need a guard?” Christian walked over and crouched before me. “You’re an audacious creature.”

Although his hair was a dark brown, his eyebrows were much darker and sloped down a little in the center. I’d never really stared at a man’s eyebrows before, but I couldn’t help but wonder why I found it so attractive that some of the hairs in the center weren’t cooperating. It made him seem less like a Vampire and more like the Big Bad Wolf.

Something dark flickered in his eyes when he noticed my bleeding wound.

Probably hunger.

“Looks like he stabbed you in the leg. Where else?”

“My back. Did you go off with that woman? What kind of bodyguard are you?”

“Are you daft? The plan was to lure him into the parking lot, not take a sightseeing tour of the city. When I heard you two in the bathroom, I kept my distance so his men wouldn’t get suspicious. They were eyeing the hall, and I suspect they’re probably searching for him as we speak.”

Christian looked over his shoulder and scraped his teeth against his bottom lip. “There’s too much evidence. I’m either going to have to call in for help or put gasoline on the car and torch it, and I’m fresh out of matches. I knew I shouldn’t have brought the damn bike,” he muttered. “I’m going to have to rope you to my back.”

A wave of terror swept through me when I thought about riding on the back of his motorcycle. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d ridden a bike, but I was too weak to hold on and didn’t have any desire to end up as roadkill.

His fangs punched out and he used them to slice a hole in his shirt. After he tore off most of the bottom, he used the material as a tourniquet on my leg.

“So much for your lucky dress,” he said.

I flicked another glance at his bike. “Don’t even think about putting me on that piece of junk.”

“Junk?” he exclaimed. “This old Ducati is more reliable than anyone I’ve ever met. Maybe she’s not as flashy as your Harley-Davidsons, but I’ll have you know she’s gotten me out of many a jam.”

Personally I was a Harley girl. Christian’s Ducati Scrambler reminded me of a Bonneville Triumph, only less flashy.

The rain suddenly unleashed, as if punishing me for what I’d done. I began to laugh at the insanity of my life. What kind of monster had I become? All I’d ever wanted as a child was a normal life, and here I was, sitting in the pouring rain, bleeding profusely from stab wounds, and having an argument with a Vampire about his mode of transportation.