Gaslight (Crossbreed #4)(62)
Christian turned away and stood in the doorway, his back facing the room. The sound of everyone’s panicked voices muffled due to the blood rushing through his head.
All for naught. That cowardly bastard had only been toying with Christian. He’d never intended to give Raven back.
“Jaysus, what have I done?”
Chapter 17
I played with a loose thread dangling from a hole in my jeans and hoped that Houdini would give up asking me to cooperate. I didn’t like staring at my reflection, and if I kept facing him, it was only a matter of time before he pulled me in with his gaze. So I’d taken a seat on the table, my back pressed against the glass and knees drawn up.
“I need you to turn around, Raven. The auction is over.”
“I don’t want you in my head.”
“That’s how it has to be.”
“If you want to scrub my memory, you’ll have to come in here and fight me. Christian’s already seen your face, and you can bet you’ve already got your own file by now.”
I heard him sit on the edge of his table, his mouth close to one of the ventilation holes.
“I know you have no love for me, but loyalty burns deep in your veins whether you choose to acknowledge it or not. I gave you life,” he said, his voice softening. “Do you truly regret what you are? To hate me is to hate what you’ve become, and you’ve never been the self-loathing type. Something beyond my control took you away from me, but you became a stronger person for it. Why would you wish me dead?”
“I didn’t say I wished you dead,” I admitted, the words hollow on my tongue.
“If you build a file on me, then you do. The higher authority doesn’t lock up men like me. They’ll take my head. I don’t know about you, but I’ve grown pretty attached to my head.”
I chuckled and quickly made myself stop. “What does it matter anyhow? All they’ve got is your physical description. Houdini isn’t even your real name.”
His head thumped against the glass. “I’ve spent a long time living as a ghost. It gets exhausting covering my tracks, but what options do I have?”
“Find another hobby?”
“I could have said the same to you when you were blasting men in club restrooms. Do you think what you did back then was wrong?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“I make these humans immortal. I put them out there in the world, but I have no control over what happens to them any more than a mother does with her own child. Leaving them on the streets would be a far worse fate—you and I both know that. At least with a caretaker, they have a chance to either be happy or rise up and take control. Hardship makes men stronger. You’ll never understand what I do, but it matters. What do you gain from that outfit you work with? Respect? A roof over your head? Because if that’s all they’ve given you, then dear little Butterfly, you’re in for so much disappointment.” He sighed, his voice distant as if he was talking to himself. “Sometimes I forget how young you are. Five, ten, even fifty years of immortality is like speaking to a toddler. You can’t possibly understand.”
I turned my head to the side. “No, I can’t. I’ll never understand how you sleep at night thinking you did me a favor. My Creator was the devil, and my life became hell on earth. I don’t feel sorry for myself, but you have no idea the irreparable damage you caused. I don’t give a shit about your theories—there is nothing that is worth the torture I went through. You think you’re doing those girls a favor, but you’re just serving your own selfish need.”
“Need for what?”
I hopped off the table and turned to face him. “To play God. You don’t want accountability for your actions. You just want to set a chain of events in motion and argue that no matter what happens, you’re not responsible. Isn’t that what you said? Well, how come you keep taking credit for what I became? It doesn’t work like that. If those girls you sold are lying in a pool of their own feces, crying and wishing they were dead, you’re responsible. Each time they get slapped around and drained of their blood, you’re responsible. That’s why I’ve hated you all these years. You made me and then threw me to the wolves!”
When I pounded my fists on the glass, he winced and turned his head away.
“It doesn’t matter if you meant it,” I continued. “That’s what a child says when they break something. I didn’t mean to. That kid knew better than to play ball in the house. So before you scrub away my entire life and ruin me once again, I want you to remember everything I’ve said. If you want to take credit for the amazing immortal I am today, then you also need to take ownership of everything else.”
He squared his shoulders and stood up. Earlier, Houdini had changed out of his black pants and into a pair of faded jeans. He pushed the sleeves of his grey sweater up. “It’s time for you to go, Raven.”
“You took everything from Christian,” I said, lowering my gaze to the floor. “I can’t go back.”
Houdini turned and approached the glass. “You can do whatever you choose. No one is holding you back but yourself.”
I swiftly took off my necklace and pushed the pendant through an airhole, keeping a tight grip of the chain. It swung before him, and he looked between the necklace and me with careful measure. “You said yourself it’s worth millions.”