Keystone (Crossbreed #1)(37)
“None of them were handsome, and I don’t think I could have drawn him away from that table.”
One eyebrow arched. “Good-looking men will always do foolish things for a woman.”
I grabbed the sink and pulled myself up.
Christian gathered me up in his arms, and everything spun for a moment. “Take me, for instance.”
He swiftly moved through the doorway and flung me onto the clean side of the mattress. After stripping the sheets out from beneath me, he tossed them in a pile in the corner.
“I didn’t tell him about Keystone,” I said. “But I can’t prove it since he’s dead. Do you think Viktor will believe me?”
He gripped the ends of a pillowcase and gave it a hard yank, forcing the pillow out. “Why are you really here?”
“I’m not here for the pool, I can tell you that much. It seemed like a way to make a few bucks so I could tuck it away for a rainy day, but once again, destiny screwed me over.”
“Ah. So it’s about the dollar signs.”
“How easy do you think it is for me to get a steady job? Think about it. I can’t get a job in the human world since I’m legally dead, and none of the Breed places will hire me since I have a sketchy background and no alias that’s been registered with the higher authority. I’m an illegal creation, and I can’t risk someone turning me over to the Mageri. I’ve worked a few odd jobs, but someone like you wouldn’t understand what it’s like to have everyone turn you away.”
Christian circled around the bed and lifted the mattress, causing me to roll over to the opposite end.
“This is my side,” he said.
“You’re not going to sleep with me.”
He bounced onto the mattress and locked his fingers behind his head. “No, I’m going to sleep next to you.”
“Vampires don’t sleep.”
When Christian spoke, it sounded like he was musing aloud. “If Viktor brings you into this group, I’ll have no choice about it. We’ll be partners, and he doesn’t change his mind about such things.”
I crossed my feet at the ankles. “He might if one of us turns up dead.”
“Maybe I’m just a tangle of barbed wire to you, but you’re a jellyfish.”
“Are you saying I’m out of shape?”
He peered over at me. “Beautiful and deadly. Can’t get too close or she’ll latch on and sting you to death.”
“Keep that in mind if you’re going to lie next to me,” I said playfully.
I turned on my side to face him. Shadows leaped across the walls like dancers in a ballet. Christian’s room had a different smell than mine. Musky and familiar—a space that had been lived in for a while.
“Have you ever tasted a Vampire other than your maker?” he asked.
I stared daggers at him. “I’m warning you.”
Christian rolled onto his side. “I’m serious.”
“No. And that’s not an invitation to ask me.”
“I’m only thinking that if you’ve never tasted Vampire blood, then you don’t know how it affects you.”
“And I suppose you want to be the sacrificial lamb?”
“Feck, no. I don’t give my blood freely to just anyone. But you won’t know the extent of your strengths and weaknesses unless you test everything.”
“I don’t have any desire to be turned into a marionette. I’ve heard rumors about the influence it can have.”
“Vampire blood is powerful, to be sure. But it’s not what you think, and everyone’s affected differently by it. It’s a sacred act that’s revered because of the power and pleasure within the blood. The blood is dark and sweet, like nothing you’ve ever tasted. When your maker feeds you his blood, you’re not yet a full Vampire, so you can’t appreciate the complexities.”
“It’s not fine wine. I’m sure it tastes like everyone else’s.”
He snorted and placed his head in his hand. “It’s not nearly the same, lass. Not by a mile. Maybe Viktor can get a sample of blood off the black market,” he said absently.
“Don’t bother adding that one to the grocery list.”
His dark brows drew together. “You really don’t have any cravings for blood, even after drinking so much of it?”
“No, and I’ve tasted more than I care to. It doesn’t heal me, it doesn’t excite me, and it sure as hell doesn’t taste like a margarita.”
“Does it taste like a Bloody Mary?”
I brushed a strand of hair away from my face, stealing a glimpse of his bottomless eyes. They reminded me of a line in a poem that went: And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming.
I shivered and looked away. “Blood does nothing for me.”
“It’s a shame you can’t enjoy the full-bodied taste, but I can’t complain, because your lack of taste will come in handy. Blood is what makes even the best Vampires weak with want, so at least you have that going for you. Can you glean information from it?”
I turned away, showing him my back. “You’re nosy.”
The bed didn’t move, but somehow Christian had eased up behind me, his words nothing but dark whispers in my ear. “Know thyself. You’ll never learn who you are by watching others or reading about it in a textbook. You’ll never know what you’re capable of by avoiding what you fear. Who are you, Raven Black?”