Page 30 of Vampire so Virtuous (Boston Vampires #1)

She took a steadying breath, squaring her shoulders before glaring at him, her next question sharp. “You marked me in the parking lot, didn’t you? When you kissed my hand.”

“Very perceptive. Yes, I marked you then.”

“But why?”

“I suppose that is the pertinent question. The answer is complicated, but the essence is that after our… initial encounter, I lost track of you for a time. I needed a way to find you again, and the mark allows me to do just that.”

“ Complicated?” She scoffed, leaning forward slightly, eyes narrowing. “Don’t treat me like an idiot. Tell me why. I have a right to know.”

His eyes flickered red—a brief, unsettling flash—before returning to their cool blue. “I’ll answer what I choose,” he said, his voice cold. “But respect is mutual.”

She swallowed hard and leaned back, the weight of his dangerous presence bearing down on her. He hadn’t even moved, simply altered his tone. And irritatingly, he was right. She had been rude. “I apologize.”

He accepted it calmly. “I had several reasons, I suppose.” He steepled his fingers once more. “One, you intrigued me. Two, you taste very nice. Three, Minh threatened me through you, and I feared for your safety.”

There was a lot to unpack, and Cally stared at him. “I taste nice? I intrigued you? How did Minh threaten you through me?” Way to keep your composure there, Cally. Repeating everything back to him and out of order, no less. Great priorities.

He gave that aggravating smile, the one that made his dimples appear. He’d shaved since the parking lot, and even tamed his wild hair, though it was still long. It made him look even more—

Concentrate, Cally, for fuck’s sake.

“You intrigued me because of your spirit and fearlessness—both of which I have seen more of today. Yes, you taste nice. Very nice.” He shrugged.

“Like I said, I don’t eat junk food. I’m picky.

” He waved a hand dismissively. “And Minh threatened to find you and rip your throat out. He knew it would irritate me.”

She blinked at him, trying to process the speed of the conversation. The day was becoming more surreal by the minute. “I’m sorry that the thought of me having my throat ripped out was potentially an irritant to you.”

“Well, in the end, it was Minh who came off worse, so we can put that one behind us.”

A chill ran down her spine. “Assuming he doesn’t come after me again.”

“Mmm.” The sound was deep in his throat. “I will have to keep an eye on you.”

Two vampires potentially interested in her. One wanted to kill her, the other was dangerous in a very different way. And he could easily keep an eye on her, whether she wished him to or not, courtesy of that cursed mark of his.

“I still don’t understand. You said you feared for my safety, but I’m just food to you. Why do you care?”

“I have been alive long enough that it is a delight to find something of interest, ma chérie . Initially, you were a curiosity. Now, something more.”

“So I’m a pleasant diversion ?” She laughed, the sound hollow, muttering half to herself, “I have a guardian vampire who wants to drink my blood on demand. ”

“I can think of worse things.”

Cally stared at him. He returned her gaze with a playful curl at the corners of his mouth. Those infuriatingly full lips and those intense eyes. The problem was, she could also think of worse things, which wasn’t helping at all.

She looked away, clearing her throat. “I’m never going to be rid of you, am I? Not when your mark lets you find me.”

“Do you wish to be rid of me?”

“Of course I do!”

His lips twitched in amusement. “Yet you left, and now here you are again.”

“That’s… that’s different! I came back to ask a question!” She took a breath, glaring at him. “It’s not like I could be rid of you anyway. Your infernal mark keeps reminding me you exist.”

His amusement deepened. “Only when you’re thinking about me.”

It was useful to have it confirmed. The only problem was, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Every single second.

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way, was it?”

He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“The mark. You marked me, not the other way around. I shouldn’t have to feel it tugging, every time my thoughts turn to you.”

“Mmm, I must admit, I hadn’t expected that. Quite unusual.”

It was nice to know he could still be surprised.

“So it was a mistake?”

“I like to think of it as a fortuitous accident.”

“Yeah, a mistake. That’s what I said.”

His mouth twitched, dimples appearing again. “I apologize for my mistakes. I assure you, I am far from perfect.”

He sounded sincere, almost like there was a hint of bitterness in his tone, despite his easy smile. He was more complicated than she’d expected. Still, it was reassuring to know he wasn’t perfect. It made him seem more… human.

“Were you ever human? I mean, are vampires born, or, well, made? Like in the stories.”

“Made. But not like in the stories.”

“So you were human. Why did you choose to become a vampire?”

His face shifted, growing colder, his eyes hardening, reminding her of the killer he was.

She felt a tingle of fear, a brief doubt that he might hurt her.

But he hadn’t, had he? Plenty of opportunity, yet here they were, sitting in his living room, having a civilized conversation—about how he’d marked her, like a slave with a collar. An almost-civilized conversation.

“I didn’t choose it,” he said bitterly. “I was never given the choice.”

There was real feeling in those words, but it was tough to care.

“I’m sorry someone turned you into a jerk, but you’re still a jerk.”

His eyes flashed with red-tinged anger, but it faded as swiftly as it came. “We are all products of our past, ma chérie, for better or for worse.”

“How convenient for you,” she said with scorn. “Some of us try to grow and change.”

He inclined his head, as though she’d scored a point. “Change is not a strength of vampires.”

She supposed not. It made sense he was still, in part, stuck in his past life—however old he was. But this line of thinking was a distraction. “So that’s all the mark does? It’s a GPS locator?”

“I suppose that’s an apt description. It also transfers a little of my regenerative capability, but that shouldn’t bother you.”

“Regenerative capability? What does that mean?”

He shrugged, as if the detail was unimportant. “The mark was originally intended to allow one to feed on their preferred prey more often. You’ll heal faster, and regenerate your blood sooner.”

She stared at him. “You turned me into a walking buffet?”

“And you’ll heal faster,” he said, as though he’d granted her some great boon.

“Oh thank you.” Though that explains why the wound in my neck vanished so fast . “What about side effects?”

“None that I’m aware of. Why? Are you getting headaches or something?”

I suppose you could call it something . She narrowed her eyes. “It’s your mark, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“These… feelings I get. You’ve done something to me.”

“What feelings?” he asked, his lips curling at the edges.

“Don’t play coy. You know exactly what I mean.” Drugged me. Or as near as made no difference.

“You may need to elaborate,” he said, evidently amused. By what he’d done, or by how she was reacting?

“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “You’ve… bewitched me, you bastard. You know you have. You’ve… charmed me or something, haven’t you? ”

“Hmm,” he said, thoughtfully, pushing his tongue into his cheek, like he was trying to hide his amusement. Was he toying with her? “And what brings you to this conclusion?”

“You know damn well,” she said, her teeth clenched. Was he going to deny it? Did he want her to say it explicitly? That wasn’t happening.

Besides, she’d already said too much.

“I have not charmed you in any way.” His eyes assessed her. “Not intentionally, in any event. Not through any powers of mine.”

Crap. Really? “I don’t believe you.”

“I give you my word.”

Cally scoffed, trying so hard to keep her anger, her shield. “The word of a vampire?”

Antoine straightened in his chair, his expression hardening as he looked at her. “Vampires cannot lie.”

She blinked, taken off guard. “Really?”

He grinned and it transformed his face, making him look mischievous and younger. By a few hundred years. “Alas, no. Some of us are far too proficient at it.” He sobered as he met her gaze. “But I do assure you, ma chérie , I have not done what you accuse me of.”

She gaped at him. He’d completely had her, and all along he was… yanking her chain. For the hell of it. Like Eve would do. An immortal vampire, capable of killing her in an instant, sitting there and making jokes to needle her.

She shook her head, trying to focus. Why couldn’t he be serious? Less charming?

Oh, God. I just told him I found him charming… and it was through nothing he’d done.

If he were to be believed.

Shit. So the lust is all on me ?

Her cheeks heated, a blush creeping over her face. It had been years since she’d blushed like that. Blood, suffusing her skin. There was an irony there, somewhere.

She huffed in frustration. She’d really been hoping there’d be a reason for how she felt around him.

But maybe there was.

“Why the hell does it feel like that when you bite me?”

“How does it feel?”

He sounded innocent, but she wasn’t playing his games anymore. “You know full well. ”

He smiled. “Not from your perspective I don’t.” He paused, like he was choosing his words carefully. “It feels like that because the line of vampires to which I belong have a… serum, I suppose you could call it, and it activates the pleasure receptors.”

“So you’re drugging me,” she spat. “Bastard. I knew it.”

“More… provoking a response.”

“That’s fucking semantics. You put something in my body to make me respond to you. You are a monster, Antoine.”

He inclined his head, a small, resigned gesture. “If it wasn’t you, it would be someone else. Yes, I am a monster, even if I have tried hard not to be. I make no excuses. What would you have me do?”

“Go sunbathing and get a tan,” she growled through gritted teeth.

“Tried it. Didn’t take.” He sounded bitter.

Was he serious, or playing again?

“So what kills you then?”

“I see nothing to compel me to answer that.”

“Beheading? That works in all the stories.”

“I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t in France during the revolution.”

She shook her head in exasperation. Everything was a joke to him. “We’re done here,” she said, rising. “Are you going to let me leave, or are you going to pin me to the door and bite me again?”

There was hunger in his eyes—but something deeper, too. Primal. Possessive. It made her want to shiver, but her anger kept it in check. Just.

“Would you like me to?” he asked, his voice low and dangerously smooth, almost caressing her.

She didn’t respond, turning for the door.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Bastard.

She half expected him to stop her, breath hitching as she anticipated the press of his body, holding her helpless while he subjected her to pleasure she couldn’t possibly know any other way. But instead, he let her leave.

Utter. Bastard.

“We hope to see you again soon, madam,” Marcel said as he held the front door for her.

“Not a goddamn chance.”

She walked out into the sunlight.