Gaslight (Crossbreed #4)(44)
Why was everyone in the club still dancing? Not one person was covering their ears or looking around in bewilderment. Maybe it was only loud to him because of his Vampire ears.
The sound didn’t switch off but faded. Christian jogged over to the spot he’d last seen Raven and turned in a circle, scanning the parking lot with his eyes and ears for the familiar sound of her heartbeat. But the only thing he heard was crystallized ice crunching beneath his boots. Bandages littered the ground, and a few drops of Raven’s blood stained the dirty snow where she’d fallen.
Had she really gone off with that shitebag? It hadn’t escaped his notice that the punk had bumped into her a few times during their visits over the past week. And tonight she’d struck up a conversation with him—even offered to buy that dry shite a drink. The hero act was probably the icing on the cake.
Christian stirred with jealousy. Something about Raven made him uncharacteristically possessive, and right now it felt as if that human cocktail had taken something that was his.
He stormed back to his car.
I shouldn’t have gone to Bulgaria, he thought. Time had little significance to a Vampire, but Raven was new, and so she had no real sense of her immortality. She was still a youngling in his eyes, and his prowess as a killer would only ruin her for good. Her exploits in five years paled in comparison to his lifetime of misdeeds. Maybe in that short time apart she’d reconsidered their agreement. Maybe he wasn’t giving her what she really wanted.
Whatever that was.
Attention? A normal life? Stimulating conversation? A foot rub? Christian could be abrasive, but he didn’t apologize for who he was. Up until now, Raven had accepted him without conditions. And Christian desired her like nothing else. Every light and dark part of his soul wanted to keep her, kill for her, seduce her, and hunt with her. His infatuation extended far beyond his control, but he refused to destroy the one thing in this world he prized—especially if the feelings weren’t mutual.
Learn from your mistakes.
Learn from your mistakes.
Odds were she was only attracted to him because of the blood sharing. Taking his blood—especially when he was feeling all kinds of desire for her—could have influenced her. He should have known better, but his Vampire nature compelled him to drink from her. Compelled him to heal her with his own blood. What had begun as a necessity was fast on its way to becoming an addiction. Maybe she recognized the danger and wanted to put distance between them.
Or maybe, deep down, she wanted a nice guy.
Once back at Keystone, Christian preoccupied himself by cleaning every corner of his room from floor to ceiling. He’d never given much thought to his modest surroundings, but now he was questioning everything. Had he driven her away by this abhorrent excuse for a bedchamber? She’d probably given more thought to what their first time might be like than he had. His private room at the club was out, and motels were for whores. That left his bedchamber as the only option, which wasn’t even soundproof, let alone clean. A cluster of spiders had taken permanent residence in one corner, and a thin layer of dust covered the stone floor beneath his feet.
Not anymore. Even the walls glowed after a deep scrubbing, and the hearth was so clean you could eat off it.
He stroked his beard, visualizing Raven spread across his sheets. The soft feel of her silky skin, her wild black hair spread out like spilled ink, the ticking of her heart. She smelled like sweet flowers from the vine on a humid spring morning. Christian had coveted many women in his life, always tempted by the fruit of another. At the club earlier, when their luscious lips were on his ear, whispering words that should have turned him into a pile of ash, his thoughts remained pure. Their sultry bodies gyrating on the dance floor barely caught his eye. He’d never given any woman absolute loyalty—dominion over his thoughts and his body.
Not until Raven.
Just knowing his blood had glossed her lips, wetted her tongue, and infused with her own blood made it imperative that he have his cock inside her. He needed to claim her in every way. Monogamy had never sounded so appealing, and that scared the ever-loving hell out of him.
During those weeks apart, he’d longed for her. And now that they were together, she was slipping through his fingers.
Right into the hands of a fecking human. Raven always had a soft spot for mortals. He should have known better.
Christian tilted his head to one side and listened to the sounds within the house. Long distances took too much effort, but he could usually hear Raven in her room since they shared the same floor. The silence mocked him, and he stared at the wristwatch on his bedside table.
She should have been back by now.
Like Christian, Raven was spontaneous, a loner, and ditching the group to do her own thing wasn’t out of character. Especially after a few drinks. But the more time that passed, the more he began to wonder if she’d gone off with a serial killer.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
Christian moved swiftly down the dark spaces in the hall where the candles had burned out. Some called it shadow walking, others called it shadowing. It only worked in the absence of light, allowing Vampires to teleport through shadows at the speed of darkness.
Confirming his floor was empty, he hurried down to the second level. Raven paced the halls during the night, and when it wasn’t snowing or raining, he’d often find her sitting on the roof. Sometimes he watched her from the shadows, wondering what she was thinking as she stared vacantly into the black night.