“I’m Sebastian Darris.” He paused as if I was supposed to recognize the name.
“I’m not sure if you’re waiting for me to be starstruck? I have no idea who you are.”
His nostrils flared again before he composed that apathetic expression with just a snap of his fingers.
I’d be lying if I said the fact that his emotions were so unstable didn’t have this weird thrill filling me. It was like being close to a primal beast and not knowing if it would rip your arm off or let you pet it.
“You’ve never heard of the Darris lineage from the American Vampire Clan?”
I shrugged. “Sorry,” I said. “I still have no idea who you are, although the arrogance coming off you by letting me know your name tells me you think you’re someone of importance?”
He let a huff of air through his nostrils and closed his eyes as if he were asking for some kind of guidance with his patience.
I was pretty sure the annoyance went both ways.
I shrugged, letting him know I had no idea what he was even talking about concerning this vampire clan or his role in it. “I’m Fae, as I’m sure you can sense, and I kept to myself. My kind isn’t as strong as any others in our world, and I had to protect myself, which meant staying away from Otherworld beings. So hearing anything about your group isn’t something I would have heard.”
He crossed those bulky arms over his equally wide chest, and I told myself not to appreciate the view of his muscles clenching and flexing.
I could see from his expression that he didn’t know how to take my admission. I didn’t expect him to understand seeing as vampires were one of the most powerful Otherworld, not just in their strength but in quickness, agility, and intelligence.
Not saying the Fae didn’t have our own awesome qualities, but we had to take our strength where we could.
“I think it’s fucking smart, you kept to yourself,” he finally said.
His praise wasn’t something I’d expected, and a flush moved over me.
My face got hot, my heart beat faster, and I glanced away. I heard him inhale sharply and closed my eyes because I knew he sensed the change in me. Hell, you didn’t need to be Otherworld to see he’d embarrassed me and taken me off guard.
“I can smell the blood rushing through your veins, hear the frantic beat of your pulse, female. My words affected you that much?”
I could have groaned in mortification but chose not to address his question. It was safer that way.
“And to be honest it doesn’t matter who you are, or where we’re at… wherever this is.” I exhaled, knowing I was being a bitch right now even though technically I had every right to be given our situation.
I was exhausted, grimy, and dirty, and the prospect of just crawling into my bed at home—in another whole damn dimension—sounded like heaven.
But if we were going to be stuck together for the foreseeable future, I might as well try and make things a little less awkward. Besides, even if I wanted to ditch him, I knew he’d be like a dog with a bone where I was concerned.
And I’d be that bone.
Being his fated mate meant he’d do everything and anything in his power to keep me close. And the truth was, right now I needed a friend.
I bent down to get the half-filled canteen of water I had stuffed into one of the packs. When I’d found myself in this parallel dimension, there’d been debris scattered all over the place, presumably items from the Assembly and guards that had been blasted here by the Leandrean opening the portal.
Two canteens filled with water, a few ration packs and cardboard-tasting energy bars, a few random pieces of clothing. Even a few weapons were among the scattered items.
I also found one severed arm, a handful of fingers, and what I assumed was a face, but the front part had been so burned off that it looked more like a piece of barbecue than what was once a human.
I took a small drink of the water and glanced over at him, feeling Sebastian’s stare as if he were holding my face in his hands, making me aware he was right here.
“Do you remember anything about… anything?” I held out the canteen.
He crossed his beefy arms over his chest and shook his head. I cocked an eyebrow, about to insist he drink something, but then I remembered he already had.
Me.
“I hope I tasted good,” I muttered, a snide comment that I immediately regretted and was about to apologize for.
“You did,” he murmured, low and deep. “The sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”
My breath caught and I couldn’t look away from him.
“If I ever drink from another living thing, it’ll taste like dog water.”