Page List


Font:  

“He wanted to know if our truce would hold. I think he worried that you coming back was a sign of an impending attempt at toppling his throne. Your roommate is sleeping.”

“Still creepy. I’ll leave her a note, so she doesn’t worry when she wakes up, and I’m gone. Are you even interested in that?”

“No, New Orleans has never interested me.”

“Why not?” I pull a large suitcase out of my closet and set it on my bed. It was torture waiting until we were in the house where my silencing spells kept our conversation private. You can never be too careful when dealing with very old and excessively paranoid vampires. It’s probably in his blood. Vlad was unhinged.

“There’s plenty of power, yes, but it comes at a price I don’t want to pay. Their cover has been blown, and people are always challenging Blazh for it. My ambitions lay elsewhere. Besides, those there are loyal to him. Whoever managed to take his spot would have to sleep with both eyes open for eternity. That’s no way to live.”

“Do you think he believed you?”

Cristobal shrugs. “He has no reason not to.”

“That’s not the same as yes,” I say, pointing at him.

“No, but he’s more cautious than most. I expect him to watch us for a time before he fully retreats.”

“Have you met his maker?” I ask, unable to keep the question to myself.

His lips form a straight line and he grimaces. “A few times.”

My jaw drops. “No way. Cristobal,” I lean in, studying his expression, “Vlad’s still out there?”

“Yes, I suspect he’ll be like the proverbial cockroach around after everything else has gone to hell, and people no longer exist.”

“I’m not living with you full time by the way.”

“At least half.” He gives in easily, making my blood boil. I’m itching for a fight. I need to remember why I was angry with him in the first place. This felt too much like a real date. It’s blurring the clear lines I’d drawn between us.

“Fine.”

“Admit it. You had fun tonight.”

“I did. It was nice to touch base with Hal, and discover she’s not as far gone as I feared.”

“It’s only a matter of time—” he cautions.

&nbs

p; “She could sustain as she is.”

“Could is not the same as will,” he says pointedly.

“I’m well aware of that.”

“You misunderstood my statement. You enjoyed yourself with me.”

I move to the dresser, pull open a drawer, and remove a few maxi dresses. “Fun isn’t the problem.”

“Then what is? Can you even name it?”

“Choice. I need to know my decisions are my own.” I grip the jeans in my hands until my knuckles protest.

“Do you really think there could’ve been a different outcome for us?” He turns me to face him, and boxes me in, pressing the length of our bodies together. My heart rate takes off like a prized thoroughbred on a race track. “Tell me the fire between us is no longer burning molten hot. I tire of waking in my bed alone and returning the same way. For the first time in years, my heart is outside of my chest in the same city. How long must I wait?” He trails his fingers through my short locks. “I need to taste you, scent you, mark you. Every moment I’m not inside of you is a travesty.”

“Cristobal.” My voice shakes.

“I’ll wait for you, dove. But I won’t allow you to pretend you are unaffected.”


Tags: Shyla Colt Witch For Hire Paranormal