That’s not nearly as comforting as he seems to think it is. “Let me get this straight; we didn’t even have sex and you lost control enough to set the room on fire.”
He still seems to have no desire to move off me. “Your blood is intoxicating, little dhampir. It’s easy to lose myself in you.”
I blink at the ceiling. “So it’smyfault you lost control and almost killed us both?”
“No.” He finally sits back and pulls me up with him. “It’s simply the way things are. But you were never in any danger. I wouldn’t have let the fire touch you.”
Thereisa perfect circle around us of untouched floor. “I can die from smoke inhalation. Or the floor could have collapsed and given us both an inconvenient stake in the heart. So, yeah, I think I might have been in some danger.”
He frowns at the charred boards as if he never considered those outcomes. But then, why would he? No matter he keeps calling me dhampir, he keeps drinking my blood, he seems to forget sometimes I’m not operating on the same level he is. I think it might be a compliment if it wasn’t likely to get me killed on accident.
Finally Malachi shakes his head. “It won’t happen again.”
“But—”
“It won’t happen again,” he repeats firmly.
Maybe I should let this go, but I can’t quite manage it. “You’ve drank my blood several times in the last couple days and this hasn’t happened before.” He also wasn’t licking an orgasm out of me before now, either, but surelythatisn’t enough to undermine his control so thoroughly. I have never heard of a vampire losing it like this during sex, let alone foreplay. Granted, my information is incomplete, but surely people would talk about it if it was a real risk? Vampires might be immortal, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be killed. Any of the seven bloodlines have powers strong enough to kill. If they lose it every time someone orgasms, their lines all would have died out a long time ago.
Malachi sits back on his heels and drags his hand over his face. “I underestimated the strength of your blood. It’s increased my strength as a result.”
I pull my legs to my chest, acutely aware my yoga pants no longer cover the essentials. “I thought you’ve drank from dhampirs before. Why didn’t you expect this?”
“Because none of the dhampirs I’ve tasted before had this effect on me.” His dark gaze turns contemplative, and I notice his pupils have retreated to their customary shape, no longer bleeding over the entirety of his eyes. “It’s strange.”
When it comes to vampires,strangeis not an asset. Something akin to panic bleats through my veins. “Stop it.”
“What?”
“I don’t know what game you’re playing, but stop it. I am not special and I am not a mystery and I’m not any of the other shit you’re about to spout.” Ithasto be game. It’s the only thing which makes sense. Rejecting his musings is the only thing which will keep me sane. The mystery he paints is too tempting by half.
Everyone wants to be special. To be unique. Me more than most. When you’re a dhampir, especially one without a lick of magic to speak of, you can never measure up no matter what you do. Never strong enough, fast enough, just flat out neverenough. Malachi acting like this is just cruel. “Don’t you think if my blood was some kind of magical booster, someone would have figured it out by now?”
His expression is painfully serious. “Have many vampires fed from you more than once?”
A fair question, but it stings all the same. “No. Of course not. I think my father had me destined as a sacrifice from the moment I was born, so he didn’t exactly pass me around to his people.” I look away. “I’ve been bit a couple times during sparring.” And a couple times outside it. “But it was rare.”
“By turned vampires.”
“Yes.”
“Then how would you know if your blood boosts a bloodline’s power?”
I open my mouth, but close it without answering. Again, a fair question. It doesn’t make it less cruel. “I am not special.”
He frowns. “Yes, Mina. You are. Even without the blood element.”
That’s about enough of that.
I shove to my feet and start for the door. I barely make it one step before Malachi sweeps me into his arms. He glares at my sound of protest. “You’ll burn your feet.”
“I just drank a bunch of your blood. I’ll heal.”
“All the same.” Except he doesn’t set me down once we’re out of the room. He just keeps moving at that dizzying pace until we arrive back at my room. Malachi pauses in the doorway and sets me on my feet. He frowns at the bed. “I’ll order new things for the room.”
That startles a laugh out of me. “Oh, you’re just now remembering maybe I don’t want to sleep in a dusty old bed? Lovely.”
He gives me a long look. “Are you angry about the fire or something else?”