“They’re tracking me because they wish to make me one of them.” He cleared his throat and looked away, out the window, as though he were ashamed to meet her eyes. “I have taken a life before, out of hunger. It fractured my soul, as such an act always does, and they are…attracted to that kind of despair. I carry a scent that is irresistible to Minions. When I fed off you, it mingled our essences. If we had…finished our business together, the humanity restored to me through the act would have lessened my connection to you. But I let you leave my apartment. Then, stupidly, I led them to your home.” He looked out his own window, hopelessness lining his face. “I should have known better.”
An angry laugh burst from her throat. “About what? About vampires?”
“Yes, about vampires.”
The authority with which he spoke was dangerous, pulled Cassie in, made her want to believe every word he said. Yet her brain refused to adapt to this new and absurd reality. “You can’t just say that to me. My life can’t be part of your sick fantasies. There isn’t enough money in the world to—”
“What do you think they were, then?” he asked calmly, cutting her off as though he were a patient father dealing with a toddler’s screaming tantrum.
The monsters from her nightmares were vampires. Or Minions or whatever. They existed, like humans and dogs and cats and trees. And not just tonight. Probably forever. And she’d never had a clue, besides her dreams.
Though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer, she asked him anyway. “What are you? Why could you fight those things the way you did?”
He let go of her hand then, as if suddenly uncomfortable with their closeness. “I am a vampire.”
Confusion spurred her curiosity on. “But those things were vampires. If you’re the same…species—”
“We are not the same!” His voice was too loud, even in the spacious interior of the car. He took a deep breath and continued, more gently, “A new vampire possesses all the instincts of an animal. If he suppresses those instincts—to hunt and kill—then he will retain his humanity. For a little while, anyway. Those that seek only to satisfy their hunger do not. They become Minions. The ones that attacked you are little more than animals, and they would have killed you had I not intervened.”
“How did you know they would come for me?” If it was him, if something in him had tainted her, was she…oh, God, she couldn’t be—
“You are not one of us. I swear to you, I would never…not without some…assurance…” He shook his head, as if to clear it. “They enjoy the despair. The smell, the taste. And you have a limitless well of that inside of you. Only the blind and mortal would not see that. The look in your eyes.” He touched her face, his fingers curving over her jaw. “You do not look like yourself this way.”
“How do you know what I’m supposed to look like?” She pushed his hand away. “You don’t know me.”
He closed his eyes briefly, sorrow crimping the space between his eyebrows. When he returned to the moment, the sadness in his expression was all for her. “They could not resist. I should have known better than to leave you.”
They pulled up outside of Viktor’s building. “Mr. Novotny, you’re all clear,” Anthony said over the intercom.
“We should walk quickly. Do not run. If any are near, running will attract their attention.” Viktor reached for the door.
“Wait, just wait.” She dropped her head to her hands. “I’m sorry, I can’t… Drive me home. I can’t get wrapped up in whatever weird game it is you’re playing.”
“It is not a game.” Something in his voice had changed. It was still deep and gentle, but command warped the edges. “You will not be safe on your own. Come upstairs, where I can protect you.”
She wanted to argue, but she couldn’t find the words. Even if she could have, she couldn’t have said them. Despite her fear—of him, of the creatures he was sure had followed them—she slid from the car, let him put his arm around her shoulders and guide her into the building, into the elevator, straight to his penthouse tomb. She had no choice. It was as if her body had decided, independently of her mind, to obey him.
Once they were out of the elevator and standing in the marble foyer, the mental paralysis lost its hold, and rage seized her.
Before she could utter a word, he held up a hand. “I am sorry. I promise I will not use such a cheap trick again.”
“Trick?” She turned to the elevator, pressed the button furiously. “That wasn’t a trick! That was a violation! People don’t just do that, they don’t just get to—”
“You are right,” he said, loud enough to break through her angry tirade. Then, softer, “People do not do that.”
The cold shock was like ice water pumping through her veins. She turned to face him. She’d never seen eyes so sad, an expression so despondent.
Yes, she had.
She turned to her reflection in the polished black marble wall. The image was distorted, twisting her face into a pale skull with sunken eyes. She saw it again, in the floor.
And in the black marble world at her feet, her reflection was alone.
She walked to him, looking at the walls, the floor, the gleaming brushed-metal of the elevator doors. No hint that he stood there except his actual, physical presence. She came close enough to touch him, and did, pressing her palm to the side of his cold face. “You don’t have a reflection.”
“It makes it easier to stalk prey.” He gave her a grim smile. “I have lost too much humanity to have retained something so unnecessary as my reflection.”
Though his statement thoroughly creeped her out, she couldn’t move her hand from him. Maybe there really was some kind of connection between them, like he said. She couldn’t stop staring into his eyes, despite the limitless well of pain she saw there. “You really are…what you say you are.”
He leaned into her touch, took a breath that sounded like a sob. When he spoke, though, his words were controlled, almost polite. “Yes. A vampire.”
His hand captured hers and pulled it to his lips. For a weird, frightening moment she thought he would bite her. Instead, he kissed her palm on the fleshy pad below her thumb. Before she could react, his other arm snaked around her waist, pulled her tight to him, and he covered her mouth with his. He was hungry, desperate, his hands sliding to her shoulders, then down, capturing her arms to her sides, releasing her the next moment.
It had been years since Cassie had been kissed like this, like a woman and not an employee. The carefully drawn lines she’d put down for herself in black and white faded to gray and disappeared altogether. It was dangerous, angering, even, that he could do such a thing.
But this was not another of his hypnotic tricks. Maddening though it was, she could not resist. She opened her mouth under his, found herself just as wild and desperate as him.
Kiss of Temptation: The Kavanaugh Foundation, Book 3 Page 15