Page 32 of Cursebound
“Maybe, maybe not. Could be that simple—one of those dickbrain newbies who never got over the fact that his hair won’t grow and wants to screw over the world. But it’s possible he’s working for someone else. At this point, I think there’s more going on here than we understand.”
I climb out of bed while she thinks, and by the time the knock on the door comes, I’m there. Her eyes light up when I return with the dinner tray, and she sits completely naked and totally uninhibited while she stuffs her face and makes appreciative little humming noises.
“I’m getting jealous of those fries.” I grin at her. “I think they’re going to make you come any minute now.”
She shoots me a look that is pure devilment. “Well, I can’t deny they’re good. But nowhere near as delicious as your cock.”
Obediently, the cock in question twitches to life. Looks like no matter how tired I am, I will always be ready to fuck when Rosa is in my presence.
“So, why did this Vincenzo guy—sorry, the Don—send you after me?” she asks, throwing a little sarcasm into his title. “What’s his play?” Her irreverence tells me she knows very little about Cosca vampires. Only the blissfully ignorant would take them—us, I remind myself—so lightly.
“Don’t play the fool, Rosa,” I say seriously. “It could get you killed. Don Vincenzo is the oldest vampire I know, and he’s more powerful than you could possibly imagine. He’s corrupt, immoral, and formidably strong. Never underestimate him—or the Cosca families. This isn’t the human Mafia we’re talking about here, bella. It’s something much older than that. Something that has existed for as long as my kind.”
“Okay,” she says, moving the tray off her lap. “Fair point. You’re right, I don’t know a lot about them. From what I’ve seen, the Cosca vamps run a tight ship. I’m not even entirely sure what all you’re involved in, and I’ve never been Called to deal with one.”
“That’s because we’re disciplined. Structured. It’s more like an army than a family. There’s a hierarchy and rules, and if you break those rules, you die—pretty simple. As to what we’re involved in… Well, everything. You might never see us, but that doesn’t mean we’re not there.”
“Could it be them?” she asks, piecing the information together. “The Coscas? Could they be the ones targeting the Seers?”
“I did wonder that myself, but I don’t think so, no. There isn’t any logic to it, there’s no reason for it. As you said, our worlds don’t really intersect. That doesn’t mean it isn’t the case, but I have no reason to think so. There are also other families, other setups, from different countries. The Argentinians have been making a few moves recently, as well as the Scandinavians. When we get to New York, I can try and find out more.”
“New York?” she repeats, frowning.
“Yes. We’re going to New York. Tomorrow.”
She stands up and grabs a robe from the bathroom. “And New York is where Don Vincenzo is? The man who wanted me killed or kidnapped? That’s your plan, to give me to him?”
Fuck, I’m an idiot. Of course she’d think that. We may have some kind of messed-up bond, but she still doesn’t really trust me. Knowing what I do about her family now, I can’t say I blame her.
“No.” I shake my head firmly. “I won’t be giving you to anyone, cara mia. You are mine, and nobody else’s.”
She shivers, and her green eyes bore into me as though she’s trying to read my mind. Literally. I can feel her poking and prodding around in there. It’s a strange sensation, like tiny threads are weaving through my cells.
“Stop that!” I snap, standing up and towering over her. “My brain is not a rummage sale. I don’t know much more than you do about what’s happening between us, but I do know this—we should use it only when we need to. It’s not like picking up the phone. If you want to know something, just ask me. But stay the fuck out of my head.”
She gulps, and I realize I am too close to her. Too angry. Too much of a monster. I back off and force myself to calm down. The only reason I’m so close to losing it is because there are things inside my mind she’s not ready to learn, parts of me I never want her to see.
“How do we do that unless we experiment with it?” she asks, her voice low and clipped. “How do we stay the fuck out when we barely understand how we get in? Because believe me, I don’t love the idea of you having an all-access pass to my mind either.”
The honest answer is that I don’t know, but she’s right to ask. We need to figure some of this shit out.
“Maybe it’s like any other power,” I say, thinking aloud. “We can use it when we choose to and ignore it the rest of the time. There’s got to be an off switch—it’s not like we’re telepathically linked 24/7. We’ve only ever connected when one of us was trying to. So if there is an off switch, we need to learn how to use it—to block each other if we want to.” As I say the words, I realize I hate the idea of her having the ability to shut me down, shut me out—even though that’s exactly what I just said I wanted from her. Fuck. When did life get so complicated?
“Try it now,” she commands. “Try to block me.”
I want to tell her to stop. To take hold of her and shake her and make her rest. Yell at her that I will never block her out, and she will never keep me away. Except she won’t rest until she’s ready, and if I push her too hard, she might not come back to me. I nod, and a look of concentration settles on her face.
I feel the tendrils of her mind in mine, the same feeling of spider-legs creeping over my brain, and I visualize a wall slamming down, solid and unbreachable.
Frowning, she bites her lip and doubles her efforts. Nothing. My walls hold—and I hate it.
“What did you do?” she asks.
“Pictured a wall. Just said no. Whatever the fuck. Does it even matter?”
“Yes, it matters,” she snaps back. “If you can do it, I can too. Where’s my amulet?” She’s using fury to cover up how vulnerable she feels.
Giving us both a few seconds to cool off, I retrieve the necklace from the pocket of my jeans, which are still lying in a wet heap on the bathroom floor. When I come back to stand in front of her, I grip the thing in my fist so she can see that it doesn’t burn. Her magic fucking charm doesn’t see me as a threat, and neither should she.