Page 39 of Inked & Bloodbound
Cassini just let me burn him. Without hesitation, without making me feel guilty about it. He handed me the power to hurt him and told me exactly how to use it.
It’s fucked up that aliteral monsterhas shown me more consideration than most human men ever have.
“Thank you,” I whisper, and something in my voice wobbles.
He’s quiet. “You shouldn’t have to thank me for that.”
“But I do. Because most guys would never—” I shake my head, not sure how to finish that sentence. “You could have just told me about the silver. You didn’t have to prove it.”
“Yes, I did.” He’s pragmatic. “Words without action are worth nothing, Lily. They’re a sequence of unfulfilled promises. It’s what we do, not what we say that counts. You needed to know you could defend yourself if you had to.”
I tentatively sit back down on the couch, gripping the silver chain so tightly it cuts into my palm. He follows my lead, settling beside me but keeping space between us. We both stare ahead like commuters on a long train journey.
“You have questions?” he asks. “There are some things I can’t tell you, but everything I can answer, I will.”
My mind is spinning with a thousand questions, but I start with something that won’t make me want to run screaming. “You said that ‘we’ can’t come into houses without an invitation. How many of you are there?”
“Many. Thousands, maybe even tens of thousands all over the world.”
The number crashes over me. I lean back against the couch cushions, trying to process it. “Thousands…” I whisper, then a horrible thought occurs to me. “Are they all like you?”
His jaw tightens. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” I gesture helplessly at him. “Do they all just sit around having polite conversations with humans, or are some of them actually—” I can’t finish the sentence.
“Dangerous?” He runs a hand through his hair. “Most of them, yes. Very dangerous.”
I pull my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. “And you’re not?”
He’s quiet for so long I think he’s not going to answer. “I try not to be.”
That’s not exactly reassuring. I fidget with the chain, and another question bubbles up. “If you can heal so fast, how come you have all those tattoos? Wouldn’t they just disappear?”
He holds up his hand, showing me the mismatched symbols decorating his knuckles. “We use a special ink with silver particles. The wounds never fully heal.”
I stare at the raised skin on his hand. “That must hurt constantly.”
“You get used to it.” He shrugs, running his thumb over the raised ink. “Besides, it makes me look cool.”
Despite everything, I almost smile. “That’s dedication to the aesthetic.”
The room falls quiet again, and I find myself watching him out of the corner of my eye. He’s so still—barely breathing, no fidgeting. It’s unnerving.
Wait. Breathing.
“Do you actually need to breathe?” I ask suddenly.
“Not in the same way you do.” As if to prove his point, he stops. His chest goes completely still, and the silence becomes absolute. After several seconds that feel like minutes, he inhales again. “But I forget sometimes when I’m nervous.”
“You get nervous?”
Amusement flickers across his face. “Around you? Yes.”
My heart stutters behind my ribs, and I have to look away. This is insane. I’m developing warm and fuzzy feelings for a vampire. A real, dead-man-walking, blood-sucking vampire who’s sitting on my couch and just told me most of his kind are dangerous.
“One more question,” he says, glancing toward the window. “I have to beat the sun before it rises. That part is true—daylight is fatal for us.”
I want to ask him what he eats, but I’m not sure I’m ready for that answer. Instead, I chicken out. “Are you really repelled by garlic?”