Page 63 of Vampire so Virtuous (Boston Vampires #1)

“I take it as a compliment, you know.”

Gabe’s voice startled her, pulling her out of her sobbing. She froze, still on the edge, and wiped her face with the towel, swallowing hard as she looked up at him.

The robe was gone, replaced by a smart pair of black slacks and a white button-up shirt—also silk, like he favored it. He looked good, the clothes tailored to his physique.

He was holding a stone basin of water as if it weighed nothing, soap in the other hand, a cloth draped over his arm. His eyes, surprisingly gentle, never left her.

“Take what as a compliment?” She sniffed, embarrassed at how shaky her voice was.

He set the basin down on the coffee table, and rolled up his sleeves, then picked up the cloth. Wetting it, he dabbed at the dried blood around her shoulder. She tensed at the sting.

“Most people would’ve either cried in fear when they arrived, or hidden it until they left.”

“Sorry.” She clenched her jaw. Is he judging me?

“Not at all,” he said softly. “If you’re letting it out now, it means you trust me. So, like I said—I take it as a compliment.”

Trust him? But she did. She was vulnerable before him—physically and emotionally. He was cleaning her wound, for God’s sake.

That’s three vampires you trust, Cally.

Did that make her a fool?

Well… two-and-a-half. She trusted Belle only to act entirely according to her own interests.

“Why are you being so nice? How can vampires be nice?” she asked, her voice quieter than she meant.

He paused mid-wipe. “By not being assholes, I guess.”

“But you prey on humans.”

“Yeah? And you eat animals. What’s the difference? ”

“Still vegetarian.”

His lips twitched. “You prey on vegetables. What’s the difference?” He cocked his head. “Actually, that doesn’t work so well, does it?”

It didn’t, but she got his point.

“Do you kill when you feed?” she asked, then quickly shook her head. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

“Not if I can help it.” He answered anyway. “Bodies are a hassle.”

She made a face as if to say figures . He cared more for convenience than human lives. But then, he was a vampire. Maybe she’d understand better if she ate meat. Or maybe not.

Either way, she found herself no longer judging him. How had Antoine put it? “I choose, rightly or wrongly, to survive.” She couldn’t fault them for that. No different from a shark in the water—no other choice.

“Your brow furrows when you have deep thoughts.”

“Are you going to warn me that I’ll get lines?”

He grinned. “You’re a marked chattel. Lines aren’t in your future.”

So that answered that question. No signs of ageing and long-lived, if not truly immortal. A daunting thought.

And that was just as a marked chattel— before she took into account her bond with Antoine.

“No,” he continued casually, wringing out the cloth and wiping at her shoulder again. “Actually, I was thinking how attractive it looked.”

She tensed.

He drew back and raised his hands. “I apologize for observing your beauty out loud. I didn’t mean to offend. All my future thoughts on the matter I’ll keep to myself.”

She gave a short laugh and shook her head. “I don’t know what to say to you, Mr. Vampire. You disarm me at every turn.”

“I’m reasonably certain you still have a blade in your pocket.”

“Am I going to need it?”

“It will do you no good,” he said with great drama, flourishing the scalpel his thralls had supplied. “I have my own.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Mine’s bigger,” she said dryly.

“It’s how you use it,” he said, deadpan.

She couldn’t help her smile. “I give up. You win. Do what you need to do with your… weapon .”

He inclined his head in victory. “You’re still going to feel this, by the way. It shouldn’t hurt, but I’ll need to cut and probe, and you’ll feel a tugging inside that will be uncomfortable. ”

“All right. I’m ready.”

He felt for the bullet with a gentle touch, then made an incision. He pushed in the forceps, and she turned her head away, not wanting to see. It felt as strange as he’d said—discomfort, but little pain. Still, it made her wince.

“Hurting?”

“Not much.”

He nodded. “On a human, the anesthetic would last several hours. But your rapid healing means we get several minutes, instead.”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine.” She hoped it wouldn’t get worse. She didn’t want to show more weakness.

“Got it,” he said, then added, “Want to see?”

“Not particularly.”

There was a dull thunk as he dropped it on the coffee table, but she saw when he licked his fingers.

“Sorry. Wasn’t thinking.” He gave her a bashful look. “Very tasty, though.”

“You did that on purpose.”

“Er… busted.” He damped the cloth again and pressed it to her wound, then leaned over her with the needle and thread. The tip of his tongue protruded between his lips as he concentrated. It made him seem almost human, and she dwelled on that instead of the pain.

At last, he was done, and again he licked his fingers. “Perks of the job,” he said, unapologetically.

She shook her head in resignation. “You’re worse than Antoine, which is saying something.”

“And yet, I take it as a compliment.”

He pressed a cottonwool pad to her shoulder, then asked her to sit up as he bandaged it. “All finished. Good as new.”

“Thank you, Gabe.”

“It was my genuine pleasure.” He sat back on his heels. “Now for the fun bit.”

“Dare I ask?”

“I need to clean that cut on your thigh. Strip, please. I can help if you need.”

She gave him a flat look. “Hell no.”

“Damn it,” he said, as he pushed himself to his feet. “I really hoped you’d fall for that.”

She shook her head again but couldn’t help the smile. “You’re a very dangerous vampire, for all the wrong reasons.”

“Another compliment,” he said with a grin. “Come visit whenever you like.”

He cleaned up the bloody waste materials, and carried the basin away. When he returned, he picked up her latte, and handed it to her, along with two white pills. She sat up to accept it, taking the medicine without question.

He flopped down heavily on another of the sofas, unrolling his shirt sleeves.

“Tired?” she asked, taking a sip.

He gave her a weak smile as he refastened his cuffs, slipping cufflinks from his pocket. They looked stylish and heavy. “It’s difficult for a vampire to be active when the sun is high and bright.”

“Even with the blinds drawn?”

“I always know where it is, even when I can’t see it.”

“You could go and sleep. I’ll rifle through your record collection.”

He pulled a face. “Now I have trust issues.”

She laughed. “ You have trust issues?”

“No one touches my records.”

“Antoine has a first-edition copy of the Count of Monte Cristo ,” she told him. “A friend of mine once threatened to tear out the first page before his eyes.”

“Did she? So sad. I’m sorry for your loss.”

She laughed again, covering her mouth. “I think you’re incorrigible.”

He shrugged. “I’d have killed her.”

It was a remarkable shift of mindset that she could take the words as the joke he intended them to be.

He cocked his head to one side. “You never did finish telling me how you and Antoine met.”

So she told him.

“Wait,” Gabe said. “You thought it was Minh who had bitten you, when it had been Antoine all along?”

“Minh was the first vampire I saw. I never got a look at Antoine that first night.”

“Minh would’ve killed you,” he said flatly.

“I know that now .”

“So then Antoine turned up and rescued you?”

She shifted on her seat. It sounded so gallant when he put it that way, but she still hated that it had been necessary. “Minh used some ability to paralyze me,” she said bitterly. “I couldn’t even move. ”

Gabe looked interested. “Did he bite you?”

“No. Just some mind thing… I assume.”

He frowned. “Did Antoine not give you a resistance?”

She waved a hand. “It was before he marked me.” Then she heard what he said. “Wait. There’s a resistance to vampire mind abilities?”

“Er… I may have said too much.”

Cally leaned forward. “What sort of resistance? Does the mark grant it?”

“No, the mark is separate.” Gabe grimaced. “This is something you should really discuss with Antoine.”

“Belle said every vampire had different abilities. What if Antoine can’t do it?”

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “That could be true, I suppose.”

“But you can do it?”

“I could,” he said carefully, “but you should ask Antoine to.”

She focused on Antoine, feeling through the mark—something she now consciously had to do, she realized with surprise. When had that changed?

“Which way is Fisher Hill?” she asked.

Gabe considered, then pointed.

“And Allston?”

His hand swung a bit to the right.

“He’s in Fisher Hill.”

Gabe blinked twice. “How could you possible know?”

“The mark, of course.”

He stared at her. “You can sense Antoine through your mark?” His astonishment was obvious.

Have I been too open? “Uh, yes?”

“Amazing,” he breathed. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

That’s what Antoine said. “I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” he said, drawing his thumb over his chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“You know only eight-year-old girls on the playground say that anymore, right?”

“Is that so?” he asked, lips quirking.

Cally sobered, clenching her hands together.

“What if I run into Minh again? He’s already come for me once—twice if those thralls were his.

” She clenched her jaw. “He’s coming after me to spite Antoine, isn’t he?

” Unless he knows about the fatum-thingy.

God… what if he does? “Gabe,” she said urgently, “I really need you to tell me how to get this resistance. If he killed me, think what it would do to Antoine. You’re his ally, aren’t you? ”

“It is the sort of thing Minh would do, but…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Cally. It’s going too far.”

She could hear the reluctance in his tone, but fixed him with her best pleading gaze. “Please, Gabe. If you can give me this resistance, please will you?”

He wavered. “Don’t do that thing with your eyes.”

“What thing?” she asked, channeling her best lost kitten expression.