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“Yeah, I gathered that much.”
“And I gathered your hair.”
It was more than a naturally falling strand or two that would be stuck to a pillowcase or drifting to the floor. Whatever this was, it took effort. “But why? Why do you have my hair?”
The lid snapped shut, and he swooped the box away. “Because I wanted it.”
“Are you putting spells on me or something?” The idea was hotly romantic, but it also made me sad, thinking that maybe my feelings for him weren’t honest. What if the spell wore off, what would I do then?
I didn’t like to think of myself as easily influenced, but the magic Kiam possessed was formidable. He could make me feel whatever he wanted me to feel, and there was nothing I could do about it, even if it was a lie.
“No, I don’t put spells on people. I have no need to.” He curled his lips in disgust.
My food sat on my plate. I couldn’t eat anymore. “Kiam, tell me why you have my hair.”
“Because it's pretty. I like blondes.”
Oh. Oh. Was the fact it was about fetishes worse? A giggle escaped me and I got off the stool and picked up my plate. Kiam snagged it and tossed it—the whole thing—into a garbage can.
“What the fuck?” I muttered. “That’s... I have no idea what to say about anything right now. You know you’re a freak, right?”
“I’m a vampire and I can do whatever I want. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Not really, no. Not when I think about it. Everything is just different, I guess. And I don’t know if you’re just a freakishly hot, morbid, romantic vampire, or if I’m about to be on one of those crime shows that comes on after dusk.”
His gaze softened and he smiled. “I’m glad I didn’t kill you.”
I snorted. “But you actually did, if you wanna go ahead and remember that small detail. I seem to remember a giant pit with walls of dirt and a busted ankle so I couldn’t climb. You left me there to die and I’m dead, remember?”
“But I didn’t slit your throat,” he tilted his head and smirked at me.
“Semantics.” My murderer grabbed my hair and pulled me forward so that I was against his chest. “Oww, what are you doing?”
“Gathering more hair for my collection.” I fisted my hand and punched his chest, not that it did anything. “I burned some of your hair and added it to the bars of the cell I made for you,” he said.
My eyebrows flew up. “You did? What does that do? Wait, you said you didn’t put a spell on me.”
“And I didn’t. It just made you identify with the cage.” He was stroking my cheek with his thumb, now, and I rested my head against him.
“I would have loved it anyway.” It would be so easy to fall asleep right here, resting against him and listening to his heartbeat. “That’s some cool shit.”
His chest rumbled with a deep, low laugh. “I know that now.” He rubbed my back lightly. “Come, we have ‘cool shit’ to do.”
“It sounds much better when I say it.”
He didn’t reply and took my hand, leading me out of the kitchen.
* * *
Kiam thumbed through some thick, leather-bound books and settled on one with gold-embossed symbols on the cover. He held the book with one hand and waved a hand toward the floor, igniting a ring of large, stumpy ivory-colored candles. In the center, was the round mat with markings on it.
Next, I heard a noise coming from the far end of the room, where what looked like a cave entrance was. That was where he brought me in and out, when I’d been staying at the Fae’s rented mansion. I never really saw anything in there when he carried me back and forth, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Not with how cold it was in there.
I stood staring, unconcerned about the noise since Kiam was unbothered by it. Then, the birds flew in with a rush of flapping wings, screeches, and caws. They settled around the ritual space, lining up outside the candles.
Still, the man didn’t bat an eye, remaining focused on the words he was reading. Curiosity got the better of me, and I stepped over the flames, nudging a bird out of the way with my ankle, and stood by his side. I tried to peek at the book, but he was too tall and was holding it too close to his face. At one point, he gave me side-eye, and I rolled my own.
While I watched the crows, I tried to figure out if any of them could hear me or if the crow I talked to was a part of this group. Nothing happened, no matter how many times I pleaded in my head.
