“You mean, he didn’t want you to feed from him?” She looked truly horrified by what she heard.
“As I am sure the chicken in that carton would rather you not feed from it.” He smiled to soften the harsh truth of his reply. “I did not hurt him, and he will not remember what happened to him but that he visited a client and enjoyed the service he provided. I doubt you can say as much for the chicken.”
She pursed her lips. “It’s not the same thing.”
“No, it is not.” He studied her face. There was something of Melina there, in her defiance, her gentle, willful way of speaking that warned him not to dismiss her. “Tell me, when you do your work, do you enjoy it?”
“No, no,” she answered without hesitation, waving her arms in front of her and laughing without humor. “No, it’s a job. That’s all it is.”
“You find nothing about being with another human sexually a connection to what you are? Your humanity?” The expression on her face told him he might as well be speaking Greek.
Cassandra laughed. “No. In fact, I would say it’s just the opposite. Every time I sleep with a guy for money, I’m less human than I was that morning.”
“It is different for vampires.” It should be different for humans, as well, but Viktor did not wish to insult her. Another time, perhaps, when he could show her what he meant, take her into his arms and give her pleasure, show her it did not have to wound her soul to surrender her body. “If you had not left the night of our first meeting, I would have not only fed on your blood, but I would have enjoyed your body. In making that connection with a human, we are able to retain some of our own humanity.
“For last night, I can only apologize. My hunger drove me to behave in a way that was upsetting to you, and I will endeavor not to do so in the future.”
“Apology accepted. And appreciated,” she added with a timid smile. Timid—there was a word he would not have applied to her before. Every moment he spent with her, she fascinated him more.
As if his thought of the time had alerted her, she glanced up to the clock on the mantel. “I’m sorry, it’s almost noon and I’m still hanging out in your house. I can get a cab and head home—”
“No, I wish for you to stay.” He hated the desperation he felt at the thought of her leaving, but knew she would not stay forever and he should not wish her to. But there was a real danger waiting for her, and he would not let her go where he could not follow. “It is not safe for you to leave without me to accompany you, and I cannot do so before sunset. Truthfully, I feel you are much safer here, with me.”
“Truthfully? So do I.” She blushed and looked down at her hands. “I just don’t want you to think you have to let me stay here. I don’t want to put a crimp in your lifestyle.”
So, she still concerned herself with that. It should not make him pleased that she was troubled to see him with someone else, but it did. “You are inordinately concerned with what you saw last night.”
“Well, it’s kind of hard to get out of my mind.” She flushed. “I don’t mean it like—”
Desire lanced, unexpectedly, through him. “Exactly how much did you see?”
She picked up a take-out carton and stabbed at the contents with no clear intention of eating. “I saw enough.”
“Enough.” He chuckled to himself. Though he’d never considered it before, he had to admit there was something arousing in the thought of being watched.
She snorted and made a gestural threat with her fork. “Yes, I saw it. I’m sure you’re very proud.”
“And I’m sure you’re a little curious.”
“Don’t do that,” she warned gently. “Don’t try to tease me to change the subject. I’m not a child. You kissed me yesterday. You’ve gone out of your way to protect me. I think I have a right to know what’s going on in your head.”
“I cannot argue with you. You do have a right to know.” He stood and walked away, not from the conversation, but from the distraction of her sitting there, looking so beautiful and tousled from bed. If he looked at her, he would not be able to form a coherent explanation of his feelings. He stood at the window, though the shades hid the view.
“I didn’t call you,” she said softly. “When I was overdosing. I didn’t call you for help, but somehow, you showed up. What were you doing at my apartment?”
So, she knew the truth. “I am sorry. I did not mean to deceive you. But I felt that you were in danger.”
After a long pause, she asked, “You felt me?”
“After I fed on you, I could feel your presence in my blood. It does not always happen, but it is not uncommon. Something in your blood bound you to me, and that bond would have been broken if we had made love. Perhaps it was your sadness. I knew you were in danger and I came to your aid. I had hoped that would be the end of it, and you would never have cause to question my story.”
“You didn’t hypnotize me then, did you?” A steely anger underscored her words. She was as strong-willed as Melina had been, and did not like to have it altered.
He did not have to lie to put her fears to rest. “No. You were unconscious when I found you, and I knew you would not remember all the details of that night. I did not like lying to you, but I could not explain—”
“Without telling me what you were. I understand.” She paused, her breath hitching audibly. “Is that why you kissed me? Because of my blood?”
“I kissed you because I wanted to.” He turned and found her standing behind him. It was unusual for anyone to be able to sneak up on him, and she had done it without trying. It did not bode well for him that his concentration was so broken. “Cassandra, I must confess that I would be attracted to you even if we were not in the situation in which we find ourselves.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” She blushed again. The woman who had been so cool and professional toward him when she had thought to be servicing a sexual fetish blushed at the mention of her feelings. “And then last night—”
“Forget last night,” he bade her softly. He did not need to use a trick of the mind on her now, and wouldn’t. He hoped his words would be enough to reassure her. “Cassandra, you are beholden to me for nothing. I will not ask you to stay here if you do not wish to, or spend time with me if you do not wish to.” Though he spoke those words, he silently prayed she would not leave. If she did, he would hire someone to guard her every moment of every day, but it would kill him to see the task fall into another’s hands. It would kill him to have her far from him, to miss the sight of her when he had just begun to appreciate it.
She took a deep breath. “I’ll stay. It’s just that I don’t want to be a bother.”
“You will not be. It would bother me far more to think of you out there, alone and unprotected.” He glanced at his watch. “I have a teleconference with shareholders in ten minutes. You’ll have to excuse me. I keep rather odd work hours.”
“You would have to. You’re a vampire.” She looked around his spartan apartment and said with a sigh, “I guess I’ll find some way to keep myself entertained.”
Chapter Five
There was absolutely nothing fun in Viktor’s apartment. Cassandra didn’t know if it was because he was a vampire or because he was a workaholic, but there weren’t any books in the living room, no television, not even a spare piece of junk mail lying around. It was like no one lived there. Was Viktor living? She would have to ask him the next time they spoke. Which could be any time in the next ten years. There wasn’t a clock to keep track of the time she’d spent while bored.
The huge windows were shaded, but that didn’t make them any less terrifying. Boredom could drive Cassie to do any number of stupid things, so for a while she made a game of inching her way, step by step, toward the glass. Not being able to see the height at which she stood should have made it easier, but knowing what was behind the dark shades didn’t help at all.
This is so like you, she scolded herself. You’re afraid of something, but you don’t want to conquer your f
ear. You just want to torture yourself with it.
Cassandra went to the couch, flopped down and stared up into the dark void of the ceiling. It felt like hours since Viktor had excused himself to go to his office, and it would probably feel like more before he emerged again. Any other normal person would have been glad to be as far away from a vampire as possible. Nope, not her. She wanted to get closer. A lot closer.
She groaned at her own stupidity and pulled one of the throw pillows over her face. She mumbled into it, “I would kill somebody for a magazine right now.”
“Excuse me?”
Fumbling to get the pillow off her face, she looked up at Anthony, who peered down at her with concern. “I said I would kill somebody for a magazine right now.”
“Did Viktor leave you here without anything to do?” Anthony chuckled. “Forgive him, he doesn’t realize that his eternal martyrdom isn’t as fascinating to everyone as it is to him.”
She sat up and smoothed her hair. “I assume he works a lot?”
“Twenty-six hours a day, if I let him. Something to drink?” He already made his way to the bar, and Cassandra got up to follow him.
“Any soda in there?” She nodded toward the minifridge below the bar.
Anthony shook his head. “Orange juice, though.”
“I’ll take it.” She slid onto a bar stool while Anthony poured her a glass of juice. “So, I bet you work twice as hard as he does.”
“Three times.” He passed the glass to her. “But I still find time to read.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen a book in this house,” she said with a smile, then added, “Thank you,” as she lifted the glass for a drink.
“Yeah, Viktor doesn’t read much. Now me, on the other hand, I read a lot of stuff.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a manila envelope, dropping it onto the bar with more force than necessary.
Cassandra swallowed. Was this a blackmail attempt? She’d seen more than one girl at the club go out with the wrong client and end up signing off on “confidentiality agreements” that amounted to little more than veiled legal threats should they ever tell what they knew. “What do you, uh, what do you read?”
He raised an eyebrow. “All sorts of things. True crime, lately. You should take a look.”
With shaking hands, Cassie set aside her juice glass and reached for the envelope. Almost before she opened it she knew what would be inside, but she still gasped when the photocopied newspaper stories slid into her hand. The grainy, black-and-white matrix of the photos took her back with sharp clarity to that night. From an entirely different angle, lying on the broken glass strewn on the pavement, she saw the car on its side in the median. Saw them pull Emily’s ragdoll body from the hole they’d cut in the roof, saw them lay her on the grass and cover her with a sheet so the passing cars wouldn’t gawk at her.
“I was wondering how long you were going to wait until you told Viktor. How many times you were going to let him feed off you again.” Anthony smiled an unfriendly smile. “You know, he’s hanging on by a thread. He might lose his humanity in days. He might go a couple years. I don’t know. But I think that whoever hired you isn’t planning on me killing him when the time comes. Why don’t you get out and go tell your boss that he’s not going to take down Viktor Novotny on my watch.”
Cassie shook her head, her heart still pounding wildly from the shock in the envelope. “I don’t understand a word you just said.”
“You expect me to believe that you just showing up with your poisoned blood is a coincidence? When Viktor’s condition has taken a turn for the worse and Minions are swarming the city?” Anthony laughed. “You must think I was born yesterday.”
“I think you’re really overestimating what I know about your situation here.” Trying to regain her calm, Cassandra pushed the photocopied pages back into the envelope. “Yes, I had an accident in college. But that has nothing to do with Viktor.”
Anthony said nothing, but regarded her skeptically.
“Besides, I don’t know what you mean about his condition. He’s a vampire. How does that get worse? He said he could lose his humanity, that he might be one of those…things, one day. But I don’t understand what would make that happen, or where I come in.” That sounded like something a spy would ask. A very inept spy, which was apparently what Anthony thought she was. “Look, I’m nobody. Honestly, I had no idea that vampires existed until I met Viktor. But if there’s something wrong with him, like he’s going to die or something, I have a right to know.”
“No, actually, you don’t have a right to know.” Anthony sighed in frustration. “Look, I’m going to be watching you. If you don’t have a reason to hide this, you should tell Viktor about the accident. That way, I know you’re not up to anything and Viktor can make up his own mind on whether or not he wants to feed from you.”
“What, because I had a car accident my blood is damaged somehow?” She frowned. “Viktor would have been able to tell, right? He would have tasted it.”
Anthony shook his head and took the envelope back, tucking it into his jacket. “Not because of your accident. Look, I can’t tell if you’re playing dumb or not, but you killed somebody. That stays in your blood. Viktor has been losing his humanity at an even faster rate than usual lately, and drinking the blood of a killer is only going to speed up the process.”
The blood of a killer. The cold way he’d stated it left her no room for argument. She had killed someone. Maybe not as directly as pulling a trigger, but her actions had led to someone losing their life. “You said he’s losing his humanity. What happens then? When it’s all gone, what happens to him?”
It was clear that Anthony still didn’t believe her, from the way he paused before answering. “You know what happens. You met it in the alley last night.”
Cassie shivered at the memory of the creatures that had surrounded her. She couldn’t imagine Viktor being one of them. They’d been faceless, void of personality or compassion or fear. They’d been…inhuman. “I don’t want to hurt Viktor. I just met him, and he’s been nothing but kind to me.”
“Neither do I. But I’ll have to, if he becomes one of them. You need to make your choice.” He poured himself a splash of whiskey in a highball glass. “Or I’ll make it for you.”
After he downed his drink, the entire conversation seemed to have never taken place, as though the whiskey had washed it away. “What do you like to read? I’ll swing by the bookstore before I bring your dinner.”
“Um, anything, really. Just magazines would be fine, I guess.” Anthony might have been able to flip his switch from threatening to solicitous in a heartbeat, but Cassandra was less able to switch from threatened to not-threatened while he stood there, cold expectation still glinting in his eyes. “Thanks.”
“Not a problem,” he said with a friendly wink before setting his glass aside and moving toward the stairs.
Cassandra sat at the bar for a long time after he’d gone. So, Anthony wasn’t just a personal assistant, then, that much was clear. And if he thought she had been sent to harm Viktor, that would be the story he told him. Not the story of how she’d paid her debt to society through hours of community service and probation check-ups. Not how despite all that, she still felt like a murderer. Still was a murderer. She had to tell Viktor before Anthony did.
Then she thought of the way people had looked at her after the accident. Mixtures of hatred and pity and relief that it hadn’t been them. She’d become a walking cautionary tale. She couldn’t stand it if Viktor looked at her that way.
And what if he decided he didn’t want her around, if she had killed someone? What if he thought, as Anthony did, that she was working for someone, trying to ruin Viktor’s humanity? If he sent her away, who would protect her from those awful creatures? On the other hand, she’d been living with them stalking her dreams for a long time now. Maybe she would be fine on her own. She couldn’t rely on Viktor to save her from everything. She’d never relied on anyone before.
Not that she should want to, anyway. She’d met lots of lonely guys. It was an occupational hazard. She’d never really cared about that before. Maybe this was a sign that it was time to get out of the life altogether. But something about Viktor called to her, the way no other person had before. She wanted his protection, but she wanted his attention too. She wanted him to feel the same, unexplainable draw that she felt, the unsettling lift she got just from being in the same room with him.
Her head throbbed, and she looked around helplessly. That was as close to admitting having real feelings about anything, let alone a guy, in a very long time. Now, more than ever, she wished she had something to distract herself.
“Your afternoon snack, Viktor.”
He looked up and took the warm mug of blood from Anthony’s hand. “Thank you. I will need some for supper, as well.”
“Not feeding off your guest?” Anthony set a saucer down where Viktor would place the mug and laid a napkin beside it.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” Viktor scolded. “I have suspended our arrangement while she stays here. And I will not be feeding from anyone else, so I will need more blood for dinner.”
Anthony raised an eyebrow. “Taking my advice?”
“Not entirely.” He sipped from the mug, hating the feel of the glazed ceramic surface under his lips. The soft, warm skin of a willing human was much preferred. Perhaps Anthony was correct, though; perhaps distancing himself from the act of feeding was good for his soul, as well as for his dealings with Cassandra. “What do you think of her?”
The silence that met his question served as a sharp enough impression of what Anthony thought of her. He spoke slowly and carefully. “I think she’s a very attractive, very intelligent girl.”
In the Blood Page 6