Page 58 of Caller of Crows

This was not good.

He had to pull away.

Altair had already turned him down, had rejected his request to be turned.

There was no way Sven was going to get what he wanted.

No matter how hard he tried.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "For making you relive that."

Altair didn't say anything.

Instead, he reached for the needle, and before Sven could protest, the vampire had stuck it into his arm, taking his blood.

Sven sighed and sank back in his seat.

Nothing ever went the way he wanted with Altair.

Why had he thought this would be different?

He gazed at the vampire, trying to figure him out. Keegan's goal had obviously been to scare Sven away from Altair, but Sven found himself unable to hate the vampire or fear him.

He was sad for Altair.

"I get now why you don't want to turn me." He smiled bitterly. "You're afraid history will repeat itself, aren't you?"

Altair didn't deny it.

"But it wouldn't," Sven insisted.

"History always repeats itself," Altair said. "Eventually."

"Not this time."

Altair shook his head. There was a hint of regret in his expression as he withdrew the needle from Sven's arm and placed a bandage over the tiny puncture wound. He hadn't drawn anywhere near as much blood as last time, not enough to be worth anything. Sven couldn't help but think that Altair only wanted to be done with this session, and with Sven.

"You are an optimistic fool," the vampire murmured.

"And you're a pessimistic asshole," Sven shot back.

Altair met his eyes, and a faint smile lifted the corner of his lips. "At least you understand that much about me."

Sven's heart skipped a beat.

God, why did this man have this effect on him? Why did every smile feel so rare and precious? Why did Svenwanthim so badly?

Altair straightened, leaving the used equipment on the table. "I'll bring you back to your room."

Sven hesitated, but then he got up.

As they walked back, Altair remained silent, his face an impenetrable mask.

Sven couldn't help but feel like the conversation about his mate was over and Altair would not open up again.

Not on that topic, and maybe not on any topic.

Sven couldn't imagine the pain the vampire must have suffered, ending the life of the one he loved. That kind of experience would traumatize anyone, even the toughest vampire, and Sven wasn't convinced that Altair had been all that tough to begin with. He walked around like a wall of ice not because he didn't have feelings but because he needed to protect those feelings from the outside world.