“I thought you told me I needed to do everything in my power to stay away from Hades House? Now you’re leading me directly into the lion’s den?”
“I know.” He pinches at the skin between his eyes. “Believe me, I know. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt—and I promise you, it will be over my soulless body that they put even a finger on you. But I cannot tell you any more information. I’m sorry. You just have to…” He lets out a humorless snort. “You have to trust a fucking vampire.”
I swallow against the lump in my throat. I know it’s the fear trying to find purchase inside of my body, but this close to Orfeo, my anxiety is dulled down to little more than an irritating ache in my chest. “I’ve had to trust you before.” I shake my head. “When you pulled me into that alley and brought me home. And when you said you wouldn’t hurt me…”
Orfeo stands and opens a window before extracting a cigarette from the case in his back pocket. “I wish this wasn’t the solution. I wish I could tell you more, but demons—even half-demons—are violent and volatile and what they are lacking in brains, they make up for in a keen sense of smell.”
“Smell? Their special power is that theysmellgood?”
Instantly, his cigarette is lit and Orfeo’s expelling an angry plume of smoke from his nose. “You laugh, but that’s exactly right. They can smell pleasure, fear, lies. And once they have that information, they can sneak into your mind. Gain control of you. Annex your soul.” He takes another inhale, his features hardening as he keeps his eyes trained on the solid black night. “That woman you saw being attacked the other night? Her name is Kat. She and her sister got caught up in our world when they were young—too young. They wanted to have an adventure. They liked the taste of danger.” Orfeo shakes his head. “Hersister quickly became the favorite of a terrible, ancient vampire from Oslo. They said he was once Viking royalty. Probably bullshit. He just seemed like some raver thug from the Lower East Side.” Orfeo ashes his cigarette, pausing to wet his lips and, it would seem, keep his emotions at bay.
Maybe it’s the wine or the winter air, but I swear I see a glisten in his eyes. “That horrible creature murdered her sister. In front of Kat, no less. The memory haunted her—almost drove her insane. She was abusing drugs, contemplating taking her own life…so she asked Alfo to wipe her memory. In return, she agreed to be a living donor at one of his clubs for as long as he needs.”
“Living donor?” I ask, my voice small.
“She lets us feed on her.” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. He looks so human right now. Young and sad and lost. I want to cross the room and wrap my arms around him. “She lets us, and that is important to me.”
“I don’t need to know anything else. I trust you.” My voice wavers on that last syllable and my palms are suddenly slick with sweat. I drag them down the front of my jeans and try again, straightening my spine. “You said this would also help with my mom, so…I trust you. I think you understand how important she is to me. But fair warning, I’m not…”God, how do I explain this?This feeling I cart around like a vestigial limb? This sensation that pulls me deep into myself? I try my best. “I’m difficult. I don’t mean to be, but I don’t have any siblings and I don’t have a lot of friends and…” Why am I saying all of this?Wrap it up, Diantha. “I’ll try to do what you need, but if I say or do the wrong thing, you’ve been warned. I’mveryfar from perfect.”
Orfeo stubs out the last of his cigarette in an ashtray poised on the windowsill before pulling the window shut. With his back to me and his hands in his pockets, he says, “Perfection is a human obsession. To optimize endlessly with the hopes ofspinning meaning out of this universe like gold from straw. It’s a fool’s errand. You are not human and you are not a fool, so put that out of your head. Your bullish nature, it’s part of whatever you are…”
He turns to face me, his gaze fierce—like a commander speaking to his army. It pins me to the couch, stills my trembling legs. “Do you think I am easy? That I have a lot of friends? I am here in this country, alone. I’ve been here for five years, which is a nanosecond in my life. I miss my home. I miss my coterie. I miss my language. I am lonely and angry, Diantha.”
I tighten my grip on the stem of my wineglass.Same, I think. But the only person who ever made me feel like I had a homeland is gone forever.
“Okay.” I nod. “We’re in this together.”
“Okay.” He blows out all the air in his lungs. “Good. Shall you do a fashion show for me, then?”
“Here we go,” I announce, poking my head out of the bathroom. Orfeo’s leaning back against the kitchen island, arms crossed over his chest.
“Finally.I was afraid I might have to come in and extract you from my toilet.”
I roll my eyes. “No judgment, please. I’m broke. Generationally. My mother left me with nothing but nightmares and that hunk of metal in your driveway. These dresses are all I have.”
His eyes twinkle with amusement as he places a hand over his heart. “I promise. I will contain my snobbish Italian nature.”
“Thank you.” I step out from behind the bathroom door in the brown, chiffon dress I wore to my mother’s funeral. “Ta da.” I’m sure I look deeply unappealing.A strategic move.
Orfeo narrows his eyes and looks me over so thoroughly I’m not sure if I should be flattered or scared. “You are objectively beautiful, but this dress…” He shakes his head. “It is horrible.”
I change into the black tube dress, quickly swapping my earrings for a pair of gold hoops and a gold wristwatch. “Is this better?”
Orfeo frowns at me. Then, he licks his lips, pushes off the island, and crosses the room toward me.
“Mmm.” He runs a hand back and forth over his jaw. He drags his teeth over his bottom lip and the light glints off the length of his fangs. “You must change.”
“What?! Seriously? I look great.”
“Yes,” he growls. “Divine.”
“And I thought you wanted me to look good.”
“I want you to look beautiful, but not so beautiful that I spend the entire evening choke-slamming demons.” Orfeo’s close enough now that I can feel the heat radiating off his bare chest. No wonder he’s always stripping down. A few seconds this close and my face is already heating. “You look like a goddess.”
“Really?” I roll my eyes. “Don’t sound so pissed about it.”
“No, I mean you literally look like a goddess. Like Diana or Artemis. Go try on that other dress.” He must sense my hesitation because he drops his chin to his chest and flutters his lashes at me. “Don’t tell me it’s sexier than this.”
