"I can't talk about it," he says. "In fact, you probably won't be hearing from me for a while." Why does he sound so ashamed of himself? What is it he's not telling me? "You working out every day?"
He's trying to change the subject, but the light in his voice is gone. Something's really bothering him. He's carrying some massive guilt.
"I am," I say, not really wanting to change the subject just yet. "I was hoping to continue with our training after winter break. I've found a trainer here, but…" I pause. Chris will likely be an excellent trainer, despite his complete lack of patience. "It's not going to be the same. He's not even Irish."
"You will be fine, Sophe," Colin says. "Like you've said before, you've got Dr. D looking out for you."
"Dr. D," I mutter, as I try to resurrect the Sophia Kelly who hates Christoph von Drauchenberg. The Sophia Kelly who isn't counting down the minutes until he gets home from the studio and she can kiss his handsome face. "What does Dr. D know about anything?"
"You know I hate it when you call me that," a voice behind me calls. "Who are you talking to, sweetheart?"
Colin's face blanches when Dr. D strides up behind me, wraps an arm around my waist, and kisses me on the cheek. I pull away from him and attempt to shield the phone, but by the look on Colin's face, I'm fairly sure he's just seen everything. My failed attempt at hiding it only makes it look worse.
"Uh." I turn so that my back is to the phone's screen. "I'm on the phone."
Chris's eyes widen, and for a moment he seems unsure of what to do, but after a couple of seconds a roguish grin spreads across his face.
"Hello? Sophie? What's going on?" I hear Colin's voice through the speaker. He says something I can't understand before his voice hardens. "What in the hell is going on?"
Glaring at Chris, I begin one of our silent conversations.
"I thought you were in the studio. What are you doing back here already?"
"We're done for the day. I came down because I wanted to make sure you hadn't fallen off my treadmill."
"And here I was convinced you didn't make stupid decisions. Do you have any idea what you've just done? Colin's about to lose his mind over this."
"Yes," Chris says brightly. "I have you, and he doesn't. Have fun with that."
"Ass."
In total, our wordless conversation only lasts for a couple of seconds before Chris bites his lip, offering me another seductive grin before he's gone again. Gritting my teeth again, I slowly turn back to the phone.
"Please tell me I didn't see what I thought I did." Colin looks as if he's about to come unglued.
Feeling my cheeks burning, I stare down at the floor. There's no way I'm getting out of this one. I raise my eyes back to the phone. Colin looks like he's about to cry.
"My God, Sophia. What are you doing?"
"Apparently, we all have our secrets," I mutter. "You're going on some weird Druid mission you can't talk about, and you seem really guilty about something. And I've got…" I motion in the direction Chris has just gone.
"How long?" Colin asks, visibly shaken. "How long have you been sleeping with him?"
I feel like I shouldn't have to explain myself to Colin, but I do it anyway.
"What makes you think I'm sleeping with him?" Oh hell. Who am I kidding? "It literally just happened last night. My mother is nowhere to be found. Just like you said. Dr. D was already back in L.A., and… Colin, this really is a long story that I really think is none of your business. But I am an idiot and did not have a backup plan, and—"
"It is my business," he growls. "You have no idea what you are getting yourself into. He's a vampire, Sophia. You're not supposed to be with a vampire. He will ruin you." I hear his breath, heavy on the other end of the line. "You have a bright future ahead of you. Why are you throwing it away?"
"Bright future," I mutter. "I've got Unseelie Fae after me, Colin. I'm trying to get my hands on a book that may or may not really exist so I can figure out if I'm this damned Changeling or not. Water-cooler talk around the music building about my future seems to be the least of my worries right now."
A look of disgust sweeps across his face and he shakes his head in disbelief. "So it's worth it for you, then? To do this? To go down this road? You would risk your life for him?"
"We don't even know if it's true, Colin," I burst out. "It's a myth. It's just a goddamned myth."
"So, he's worth dying for?"
I take a deep breath. The room suddenly feels deathly silent, and I feel as if I'm standing at the edge of a cliff deciding whether or not to jump.
"Yes," I say quietly.
"Do you love him?"
Tears sting my eyes. Chris had been there for me more times than I could count. He'd put his life, as well as his secrets, on the line to protect me. He trusts me. I have to be honest with myself, and I have to own up to my true feelings, as wrong as it might seem to Colin. I take a deep breath and can practically feel my feet leaving the edge of the cliff as I plunge headfirst into the nothingness below.
"Yes."
My feet pound the treadmill as I run, my thoughts suffocated by the loud music blaring through my headphones. Two miles fly by. My heart feels like it will explode. Three miles. I can hardly breathe now. My legs feel numb. I am nearing the end of my workout, but I don't want to stop. I want to run forever. I gasp for air, imagining a finish line where Chris waits for me, arms open and ready to envelop me. Sweat drips down, burning my eyes, but I blink the pain away.
Colin knows. Colin knows I'm in love with Chris. Chris may not realize it, but Colin knows.
I barely even knew I was in love with Chris until I admitted it to Colin. Slowing the treadmill to a walking pace, I wipe my face with a towel. I'm not sure why my relationship with Chris matters so much to Colin.
"It matters because Colin is in love with you, Miss Kelly. Here. Hydrate." Chris appears from out of nowhere and thrusts a water bottle into my hand, startling me. Gripping the handrail so I don't fall off, I glance at him and take a swig from the bottle. "After that ferocious attack on my treadmill, you need to drink."
I stop the treadmill and lean against it as I take another drink. "That's not true, and you know it. Colin has a very serious girlfriend. What are you doing home already? And what are you doing inside my head? I thought we talked about that." I'm still struggling to catch my breath, but then again, I'm always struggling to catch my breath around this man. "I wasn't expecting you for another hour or so. I had no idea you were going to walk in all hugs and kisses while I was talking to Colin."
"Well, jeez. I'm glad to see you missed me." He dabs my forehead with a towel.
"I just wanted to not…" I look down at my sweat-soaked body. "Look like this when you got home."
Chris's mouth twists into a sly grin as he pulls me to him. "I like you all hot and sweaty. That means we can enjoy a nice hot shower together."
I feel as if I am floating on air every time he gives me that sneaky grin. Every time his voice lowers to that deep, gravelly whisper.
"But first, you will spar with me," he says, all serious as he releases me from his embrace. "I want to see what that bumbling Irish idiot has been teaching you since that horrid fencing match."
"What?" I say, glaring at him as I step off the treadmill. The moment is lost. "Chris, I just finished this." I gesture erratically toward the cursed treadmill that just sucked the soul from my body.
"Hmm." He strokes his chin and glances at the treadmill's computer, which displays the stats for the run I just completed. "That's a lot, but I know you can do more than that," he says.
"Are you kidding?" I pant, as I follow him to the open section of his gym, which looks like it's conveniently reserved for boxing and sparring matches. He tosses me some hand wraps.
"You need to be stronger. And faster."
"Damn you, Drauchenberg. As if me being strong and fast is going to protect me against the Unseelie. I need magic or something."
I clumsily wrap my hands, trying no
t to look at him. Why am I so nervous all of a sudden?
"I hardly think this is fair," I grumble as I unwrap and rewrap my hands. Chris gives me one of his sexy looks again, and I can't even begin to concentrate on wrapping my hands. "After the night we had last night, and then—"
"This morning," Chris interrupts, grinning. "Don't forget this morning. And then again this morning. And again."
"I just finished working out." I continue with my thought, talking over him, trying to ignore him, and desperately trying to push thoughts of our love life out of my mind. "As you can see, it's no joke."
"So how many times does that make?" He folds his arms across his chest and gazes lazily down at me.
I mutter a few curse words under my breath. I'm hungry and feel like my body is moving in slow motion compared to his.
"Step lively," he says, clapping his hands together.
I'm so exhausted that I can't make sense of what little martial arts training I've already had. I get into the best fighting stance I can, feeling my legs trembling beneath me, and lock my eyes on his lithe frame as he darts from point to point.
"Step lively." I throw a punch, hitting nothing but air. "Who still says that, anyway?"
He catches my foot as I attempt a roundhouse kick. "Don't be so obvious," he says. "You're faster than most people, I'll give you that, but your eyes give you away every time."
I take a deep breath and try to bring everything Colin has ever taught me about fighting into my brain. But it's as if there's a barrier between that knowledge and my mind.
I blow a strand of hair from my face. "You do realize that Colin's not coming back this spring, right?" Chris catches my wrist, forcing me to the ground. "Dammit," I mutter in response to my defeat. "Anyway, he's got some important Druid mission. Something with his family."
I stagger to my feet, wait a moment, and then lunge at him. "There you go," he says encouragingly, barely side-stepping my attack. "Ah, his family." He gives me a wry smile. "That was good, by the way. Much better."
"You think there's something weird going on with his family?"
"There's something weird about most Druid families. I'm sure they're up to something. With all the buzz on the streets about Faerie right now? How they think their Changeling is out there running around? I'm sure it's all related."
"What if it's me? What if I'm the Changeling?" I ask, just as my legs shoot out from under me and Chris slams me to the floor, chortling with laughter.
"It's not you," he laughs. "What would the Fae want with you? Look at you right now."
"I almost killed Madeleine. And get off of me," I hiss as I struggle to get off the floor. My arms feel like Jell-O, and my lack of coordination only encourages Chris's annoying laughter.
"That doesn't mean you're a Changeling. That you're the Changeling."
Once I am back on my feet, I stand there for a few moments, teetering slightly to one side. I don't look at Chris's face. Instead, I allow my eyes to focus on his chest as I try to anticipate his next attack. Keeping my face as impassive as possible, and determined to win at least one round against him, I set upon him the second his gaze is averted with a series of attacks similar to the ones I'd used against him once before. But he doesn't budge. I lose my footing again and squeeze my eyes shut as I prepare for the impact of the floor. The wind is knocked out of me and I gasp for air, feeling as if my ribs will shatter.
"Get up, sweetheart. The bad guys aren't going to give you time to catch your breath. You know that."
I shakily rise to my feet, only to be taken off guard again. My head jerks back and I stagger blindly, struggling to keep my footing. I taste blood as it pools in my mouth and quickly run my tongue along my teeth to make sure they're still there. A flare of light burns inside of me and then seems to shatter, sending little shards of white light rippling through me. I lunge at him with a power I didn't even know I had. He stumbles backwards and then falls. Of course I use this to my advantage and continue my attack.
"That's enough," he says, catching my wrists in his hands. "Hey, hey. Okay, sweetheart. We're done. We're done for the day."
He watches me, only releasing my wrists once he knows I've calmed down.
"What, once I take you down, we're done?" I hiss, raising a hand under my bloody nose, which I'm almost certain is broken.
His deep voice is soothing, but there is a bit of concern there as well. "I'm pushing you to your breaking point," he says. "I could see the fury in your mind. And you harnessed that and fought like I knew you could. I'm not going to push you anymore today."
He pulls me to him, and I have the feeling that I'm not the only one who has been pushed to a breaking point. For a vampire, Chris certainly looks exhausted.
"I don't like sparring with you," I pout, sniffling a glob of blood back up through my nose.
"Why, because I don't go easy on you?" He tilts my face up and frowns. "I'm sorry I broke your nose."
"Dammit, Chris." Blood drips into my mouth, which I hope is just as painful for him as it is for me.
"Relax." Raising his wrist to his lips, he sinks razor-sharp fangs into the veins on his wrist until blood begins to swirl around the edges of his mouth. It's surprisingly sexy. "Drink. Be healed."
My throat constricts as I watch the blood ooze from his wrist. "I-I don't know," I say, feeling a little queasy at the thought.
"Do it," he instructs, thrusting his wrist toward me. "You know you can trust me, Sophia. I'm not doing anything that is going to hurt you. When we're done drinking from each other, then we'll talk." His blue eyes glitter dangerously, sending my pulse racing and making my broken nose throb with pain. "I am merely healing you. I promise."
I move toward him, my eyes glued to his face as I bring his bloody wrist to my lips.
This isn't weird at all. Blood-drinking. Totally normal.
He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply as I run my tongue along the puncture wounds in his skin, which are closing up quickly due to his vampiric quick-healing abilities.
I am drinking vampire blood.
His blood tastes both sweet and spicy, like an exotic mingling of cinnamon and anise that tickles my throat as I swallow it. A feeling of warm lightheadedness takes over, and I suck at his wrist trying to get more, but his wounds have already healed.
"Why does your blood taste like a frat party alcoholic beverage?" I pull away, wiping my lips.
Chris frowns and takes my chin in one hand as he examines my nose. "You're healing. Perfect." He helps me to my feet. "What kind of parties are you going to, sweetheart?"
"Just the usual ones. The kind where word gets passed quietly around the music building, and then the entire damn school shows up. Why do I feel so weird?"
"Temporary side effect," he says, grinning at me. "Let's get you some water."
CHAPTER TWELVE
There is a gem of a bookstore nestled away about a quarter of a mile off the Venice Beach Boardwalk in a converted old house that smells of polished wood and musty, antique books. The store looks like something out of a European manor house. If I read the history on their website correctly, it has been around for over sixty years. I stop at the entrance for a moment, taking note of the old-world charm that sets it apart from the big national bookselling chains. There's something familiar and comforting about the place, and I'm looking forward to spending my days here.
If I get the job, that is.
Chris hadn't been thrilled at the idea of me coming here today. "I simply don't understand why you would give up the luxury and relaxation you could have here to work. You don't have to take a job, you know," he'd said over breakfast this morning. "Enjoy your break."
I didn't buy it. Not for a minute. Hardworking Germans such as Christoph von Drauchenberg don’t know the meaning of the word "relaxation." He'd stumbled over the word enough, his thick accent barely getting it out, that I know it's not part of his regular vocabulary.
No. The problem is that he doesn’t want to let me out of his sights. I'd e
xplained that sitting around doing nothing has never been something I’m good at. I need to be out. Around people. And I need the money. Besides, there is something about this place that seemed to reach out to me, like a long-lost friend, which is why I'd called looking for a little seasonal job in the first place.
Stepping carefully between tables of books, I find who I think is Esmeralda Doran behind the register, assisting a customer. She looks over bright purple glasses and gives me a radiant smile.
"You must be Sophia. We spoke on the phone earlier." She says a polite goodbye to her customer, who walks out with a stack of books proudly tucked under her arm. "I'm Esmeralda. You were inquiring about a job here?"
She extends a bony hand, weathered with age spots, but the moment my hand touches hers in introduction, she pulls away, her eyes wide.
"You must forgive me, my dear," she says. "I have a bit of arthritis that flares up every now and then." She gives me an apologetic smile as she shakes out her hand. I give her a wary look, remembering the similar reaction Sarah had after shaking my hand.
"It's okay. I seem to have that effect on people," I mutter. "And yes, I am looking for a job. A seasonal job, I should add." I am suddenly nervous under Esmeralda's watchful eye. How did she know who I was? And that I was the one who inquired about a job earlier? Had I been that obvious? "I go to school in Austin and am only in town for the month."
"Well, I'm afraid I don't have much." She looks around the store, hands on her hips. "But one of my baristas is out on maternity leave. I could use some help there." She seems to think about it for a moment before turning back to me. "Can you make coffee?"
"Sure," I say with a shrug. "At least, I think I can."
"That's enough for me, my dear," she says with a laugh.
She sweeps past me, weaving gracefully between the tables of perfectly organized books, her layers of beaded necklaces clinking together as she walks. I follow her to the cafe in the corner of the store. "We are known all over Venice Beach for our coffee here." She shrugs. "No idea why, but a lot of the celebrities love it. Maybe it's because it's tucked back here, out of the way, and they can come here in peace." She pauses for a moment before shrugging again.
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