A Blood Seduction (Vamp City #1)(82)

She was about to say no when her mind caught the implication of that last word. "Poison?"

"Dragon fire virtually immobilizes a human with pain. Few vamps possess it. Cristoff secretes it through his fangs when he wants to. I took most of it while you slept, but it's not gone. I need to take the rest.

She stared at him, at this male who'd never hurt her with his touch yet had slain her over and over with his actions. Even as she hated him, she trusted him not to hurt her physically. And she was tired of the pain.

His knuckles stroked her cheek. "My fangs will bring you no pain, cara, not even where it already hurts." With gentle fingers, he brushed the hair from her shoulder, then dipped his face to her neck, and she let him. His mouth closed around the flaming wound, but true to his word for once, his bite did not hurt. She reached for him, her hands stroking his shoulders, her instinct to hold on and not let go. But then she remembered who he was . . . Cristoff's snake . . . and dropped her hands to her thighs.

Slowly, the fire ebbed, and a rush of pleasure took its place on the next draw of blood. She fought that rising tide, gripping the vampire's head to dislodge him.

"Don't. No more."

He lifted his head, his breath warm on her cheek. "Let me bring you pleasure."

"No. I don't want that. I don't want anything from you."

He turned her to face him, licking the blood off his lips. "You're still hurting," he said softly.

She jerked away from his touch, spearing him with her hatred.

His jaw hardened, and he turned and picked up the tray from the floor. "You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry." But her stomach rumbled, making a liar out of her. She'd eaten nothing in days.

Arturo set the tray on her lap, then sat across from her, his long legs brushing hers, barely able to stretch out in the cramped space. Dispassionately, she eyed the meal - a roll, a bowl of pasta with some kind of cream sauce, and a chicken thigh. She picked up the mug of beer and took a long, cold sip that tasted far too good going down and only exacerbated her hunger.

Picking up her fork, she twirled a length of pasta on it, then put the bite in her mouth. The food melted on her tongue, and she took another bite, and another, until most of the meal was gone.

Finally, as she picked up the soft roll and dug her thumbs in to tear off a piece, Arturo spoke. "Tell me about Zack."

Her brother's name on the traitor's lips was like a punch in the gut. It left her gasping. "Why?"

"Because I want to know. Because he was important to you."

She stared at him, still struggling to breathe.

"Because I'm sorry," he added softly.

Her eyes teared as she fought back the slug of grief. "He was all I had."

"Tell me, cara."

She ate the roll slowly, sinking within her memories, not wanting to share Zack with this man who could have saved him. Yet she desperately needed to talk about him with someone. And for better or worse, Arturo was it.

"My mom died when I was two," she began. "My dad remarried a year later. Angela and I hated one another on sight. She didn't like that I was the daughter of the woman who'd been the love of my dad's life. But more than that, I think I scared her. Weird things happen to me sometimes. I think it was worse when I was little."

"You had less control."

"I've never been able to control them."

"What kinds of weird things?"

"I don't know. Random things that only happened once. The flowers changing colors or the cat barking like a dog. Or the car horn suddenly playing the tune to 'Row, Row, Row Your Boat.' "

Arturo smiled softly. "And those scared her?"

"By themselves, probably not. But every now and then, my eyes changed."

He nodded. "They glow as if a light has been turned on behind the irises."

She blinked. "How do you know that?"

"It happened when you were trying to fight off those Traders near the gladiator camp."

"That's why you got so mad."

"Glowing eyes are the mark of great power. Neither Grant nor Sheridan's eyes have ever glowed. But their father's did."

"And Cristoff knows," she said dully.

"As a matter of fact, he does not."

She looked at him with surprise. "You didn't tell him?"

"I have not told him, not yet. I'll decide when and if to do so when the time is right." Of course he would. "So your stepmother was afraid of your eyes?"

"And the fact that I pushed her against the wall after she spanked me when I was six."

"You were strong."

"I pushed her without touching her."

He watched her with interest. "You had power."

"I did. Then. I've tried to call it since I got here, and it's deserted me."

"Your father? Did he protect you from this woman who disliked you?"

"He threatened to send me away if I ever hurt her again."

"I'm sorry."

Quinn shrugged. She'd long ago lost respect for the man who should have been her champion and instead only ever backed her enemy. "When I was five, Zack was born, and as much as I hated Angela, I loved that baby. As he got older, he followed me everywhere. It drove Angela crazy. She'd send me to the corner to punish me, and he'd join me there. She'd spank me, and he'd come put his arms around my waist." The tears started to slide down her cheeks until she couldn't go on. "He loved me, Vampire. He's the only one who ever did." Sobs caught in her throat, the grief rushing up in a crushing wave until she was drowning beneath the weight of it.