Yet, I was tempted to move to her side, hold her to me until the shaking subsided. Perhaps say something reassuring, though I’d not know what to say.
The sekhor shivered and groaned as she drank from the thermos of blood.
Vivien did not realize how dangerous her question was about feeding from me. If she knew the truth about my blood and what it would do to her, who knew what she would do?
Though at every turn, she surprised me. Vivien was doing everything she could to fight her nature, to protect others.
When she finished, she melted back into the seat with evident relief. A bit of blood ran from the corners of her now ruby lips. Then her eyes flew open, and she sat up as if remembering where she was and had to protect herself from any sudden threat. There was a silent accusation in her gaze, perhaps because I’d taken her back to Sinopolis, yet again.
“Relax.” I instructed. “We are going to sit here for a couple minutes until I am sure you won’t leap upon any of my hotel guests or staff.”
She sagged against the seat again. “Didn’t your mother teach you it’s not polite to stare?”
Ah, so that’s what that look was for. I’d witnessed her at her most vulnerable. She wiped away the remaining blood from her lips with the back of her hand.
“My mother had little to do with my upbringing,” I said. “So she can hardly be to blame.”
“Is your mom the reason you have such shit taste in women?”
I frowned.
“Whoops? Did I step into that one?”
“From a purely psychological point of view, I’m sure one could draw a conclusion that ties the two together.” I hated to admit it, but Vivien echoed a musing Timothy had once uttered. It stayed with me, much to my dismay. One hardly wished to draw similarities between one’s lover and one’s mother. Thankfully, she didn’t press.
“I’m surprised you aren’t with Qwynn right now,” she said. The way she said my ex’s name made it seem as though she’d sucked on a lemon.
Tension coiled into the muscles along my back. “What makes you say that?”
“I mean, aside from the fact that she looks like…well, that. The woman looks like she was ready to blow your mind ten ways from Sunday. Have you grown bored with spectacularly gorgeous, willing women?” Her glib tone gave way to a quiet observation. “You looked like you couldn’t wait to get your hands on her.”
Her perceptiveness surprised me.
“You are right. It took everything in me not to reach my hands out and…” Resignation and, dare I say, disappointment flashed across her face before I finished. “Wring her neck.”
Vivien’s brows shot up, though she remained melted against the seat.
“She is a destructive succubus who is a mere shell of a being. For a long time, I believed there to be so much more to her. I believed her to possess…soul.” Unable to meet Vivien’s probing, curious eyes, I plucked a piece of invisible lint off my pants. “I was wrong. The woman is a vacuous wench.”
Vivien sat up straighter, seeming more herself. “Whoa, she did a number on you. How did she pull one over on you? Aren’t you the guy who judges souls?”
My lips pulled in a tight, wry smile. “Qwynn has perfected the craft of homing in on a subject and making them feel they are the center of the entire universe before she drags them down into her hole of pleasure and sin.” I cleared my throat as Vivien canted her head with interest. Before she could ask about Qwynn’s sexual prowess, I went on. “But sometimes I wonder if I didn’t see in her what I wanted. I chose to ignore the parts of her that didn’t match up to my ideal. And she let me indulge in my fantasy of who I wanted her to be.”
Vivien went quiet, lost in thought. I was on the verge tapping my foot to layer some kind of sound into the limo to distract from my sudden discomfort. Why was I telling her all this? How did she continually find new and different ways to get under my skin?
“So, what did she do that was so horrible?” Vivien asked, at last.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” I said, straightening my wristwatch.
Vivien leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees and offering a generous view of her cleavage as it strained against her near-cutting latex neckline. “Clearly it does, if you want to strangle her, and can’t bring yourself to say out loud what she did to you.”
“It was a long time ago.” My tone was firm and authoritative.
“If it was so long ago, then it doesn’t matter if you tell me.”
“It is unsavory to bring up the past.”
“It is unsavory to drink blood, but I’ve been able to savor a lot these days—”
