Gaslight (Crossbreed #4)(50)
A cold chill ran up my spine when I realized the most likely scenario was Houdini scrubbing my memory of this whole thing and planting a suggestion for me to drop off that key somewhere in the city. Right now that key was the only thing keeping me alive.
I vowed not to look him directly in the eye. The times before, I must have still been in his thrall long enough for him to wipe my memory. Otherwise I would have staked him. Houdini seemed like the kind of guy who thought out his moves like a chess game and didn’t like making things difficult. Now that the charming had worn off, I could use it to my advantage. He’d have to enter the room and physically force me to look him in the eye, and that opened up a window of opportunity—if even the smallest one—to get myself out of this mess.
“Your tea’s ready,” he announced. “It’s the one that you like.”
My jaw slid forward. The one that I like?
I took a deep breath and glided through the doorway. “How would you know what I like?”
“I know tea isn’t something you drink very often, but when you do, you prefer this particular flavor.” Scratching the back of his head, he strode back to the table. Houdini’s hair had a mind of its own. Not short spikes but longish chunks sticking out every which way. He still had on his leather pants but now wore a white tank top.
I collected the steaming cup from the cubbyhole and then set it on the table. After righting my chair, I sat down, the legs now wobbly after my tirade. The lemon tea went down smooth, a hint of honey lingering on my tongue.
Damn him. I needed to know more.
“Did we go to tea parties or something?”
He folded his arms on the table. “I have incredibly good hearing. Sometimes you mention personal things in conversation with strangers.”
“How’s your vision? I noticed I’m all lit up in here while you’re in the dark.”
“Better than average, but not up to par.”
“Then turn on the lights on your side. I like to see who I’m talking to.”
He drummed his fingers on the table once before getting up. Houdini strode toward the far side of the room and switched on a yellow lamp. The mellow light revealed a rather unremarkable living room. His brown leather sofa looked old, and there was no television. I suppose the person locked in this room was his entertainment. I furrowed my brow at his coffee table, which looked like a giant rock with a polished top.
Houdini tapped his foot against the base. “It’s lava stone. I could have used wood that isn’t an impalement weapon, but it’s got a unique look, don’t you think?”
Ignoring him, I kept looking around, hoping to gain some sliver of knowledge from his home. No magazines or glasses sitting where they didn’t belong, and a low counter separated the living area from a small kitchen on the right. It looked no bigger than some low-rent apartments I’d seen. No windows. No vents that I could see. Yep. This could very well be a dwelling in the Bricks, but either underground or in a basement.
When he returned, he gripped the back of his chair. “Anything else before I get comfortable?”
I trained my eyes down to his Adam’s apple. “You play a smooth game at the club. Pretending to be a nitwit who can’t pick up chicks. That bit about your uncle was a nice touch.”
He sat down and touched the large black stud in his earlobe. “Your partner was eavesdropping, so I had to dumb down the conversation a little. I don’t pass for a Vampire, but sometimes people give away their age when they open their mouth. Everything else we talked about is all me. I’m not pretending to be someone I’m not. Are you?”
I sipped my tea and suddenly froze. For fuck’s sake, how gullible could I be?
“I didn’t spike it,” he assured me. “It’s just tea and honey. As I already explained, I regret that decision.”
“You almost sound remorseful.”
“I’m not without feelings.”
“Then let me go.”
He chuckled. “I’m also not without intelligence. Do you really think your plan was well constructed? Even had your trafficker been anyone else, he would have smelled the trap a mile away. I looked up heterochromia. Having two different eye colors is incredibly rare. Usually the condition partially affects one iris. Complete heterochromia is more common in animals than humans. It makes you wonder about the variations in genetic makeup that makes one person different than the rest of the population.”
“We’re all different.”
He waved his finger like a metronome ticking back and forth. “Not exactly what I meant. Yes, your eyes make you different. But have you ever wondered if that one genetic flaw has something to do with your being a crossbreed?”
I rested my arms on the table, all out of patience. “What exactly do you know about me?”
“That you’ve developed a bad habit of waiting for things to happen instead of making them happen. I thought spiking your drink might be the push you needed. I do miss the old Raven.”
Fuck it. I slurped down half my tea and shoved the cup away. “I don’t need you to psychoanalyze me with your demented version of the truth. You know what I’m asking.”
“Your immortal name is Raven Black. You’re a Vampire and a Mage, but you don’t seem to give a damn about the Vampire side. Guess what? That’s the side that counts. You’re only half a person.” Houdini leaned forward, and I could feel his eyes searching mine. “Embrace your darkness, and you might actually see the light.”