“No, you’re not—”
“And so are you. You said it yourself: who turned the Lord of the Blessed?”
I looked away.
“Answer me.”
“I did.” I leaned on the counter, my hands flat on the cold metal, letting my head fall forward. “I did,” I repeated. Oh, how I promised myself I wouldn’t get caught up in magical drama.
And here I was, power-tripping over a tomato slice.
I was a fool.
“I’m a fool,” I said.
“Yes, you are.”
A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Thanks a lot.”
A warm hand touched my shoulder. “You’re a fool because you try to be responsible for everything. For Jessica. For the Gentry. For me. Your mother’s probably throwing you for a loop right now, too, isn’t she?”
I straightened up. “How did you know?”
He tilted his head and gave me a look.
“Okay, yeah. You’re right. Maybe it’s all a bit much.”
He gave my shoulder a friendly pat and stepped back. “See? I’m right.”
“Rarely,” I said, but I was too busy trying to process what had just happened. Daniel didn’t pass up chances to raise the heat level to something interesting, even if it was just to pass the time. He had moves as smooth as turning up the gas on the range. Yet he had patted my shoulder like a priest and moved further away.
Honestly—I wasn’t offended so much as I felt like we’d started a new dance, one for which I didn’t know the steps.
“Jessica’s not so bad, anyway,” he added.
“Oh?”
He shrugged.
Suddenly the steps were becoming clearer, like an old-fashioned dance diagram with arrows and footprints. “How’s that going, anyway? Living with Jessica.”
“She’s not a terrible roommate.”
“She teaches you how to slice tomatoes and everything, huh?”
“What are you implying, Zelda?”
“What are you doing, Daniel?”
“Is it any of your business?”
“No.” I smiled and crossed my arms. “But I love being nosy.”
“Stay out of it.”
I didn’t need to be a vampire to scent blood. “Not on your life,” I said. “You’re sweet on her, aren’t you?”
He rubbed his hands over his head. “Oh, my God. Don’t start.”
