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I glance up at Julien's face to see the amusement is gone and now, his eyes are hooded. He speaks in a quiet voice, his tone flat. "It's dark out here and I have a switchblade in my pocket and could have him down in three seconds. Do you want this man to pay for your indiscretion?"
I get hold of myself, realize that I'm causing too much of a scene, that he very well could kill whoever comes upon the two of us. Kill me as well for that matter, because he has my hand in his.
"I'm fine," I call to the man, a forced smile on my face. "We're just playing."
"That's a girl," Julien says, putting his arms around me, pulling me closer. "Comply."
The man hesitates, but then moves on. "If you say so."
I stand with Julien's arms around me for a moment until the man's gone and then I try to pull away.
"No, I like this," he says, his voice soft. "Just relax for a minute."
I give up and just stand there as he buries his nose in my hair and neck, inhaling deeply. I'm shaking just a bit, my knees feeling like rubber from the adrenaline. I'm so frustrated that I can't get any time to myself without him intruding, reminding me that he's a killer. I realize that I'm still afraid of him, despite everything – the violin, him feeding me his blood, him biting me to protect me. He's still a vampire and could kill me if he wanted.
"Oh, come on, Eve." Julien pulls back. "You mean to tell me you're still afraid of me?"
I say nothing, just cover my face with my hands, not wanting to meet his eyes for mine are wet and I bite my cheek.
"Get a hold of yourself. Tears don't work on me. I'm a battle-hardened soldier." He reaches in a pocket and hands me a tissue.
I can't reply, just stand there mortified at my inability to gain control. He and his brother are ruining my life. I wipe my nose and eyes with the tissue and then glance around at the setting, anything to keep from looking at him.
"There," he says. "Better now? Enough sniveling. I hate sniveling."
"I hate you."
He grins at that and laughs out loud. Then he casually takes my arm and gently escorts me towards my hotel.
"Ahhh," he says, amusement back in his voice. "No you don't."
"Yes, I do."
"No youdon't," he says and there's just a hint of darkness in his voice. "Tell the truth, Eve. You hate that I have control and that you don't. You don't hate me. You hate the fact that I can do whatever I want and you can't."
We walk along for a moment in silence, him holding my arm, me trying to stay as far away from him as possible.
"I don't blame you," he says. "I'd hate to be in that position. I'd like to say I sympathize, but I don't, do I? I mean, vampires can't sympathize, can we? You're just prey animals to us, food, a means to an end, sources of pleasure – toys. I'm just damn glad we're not weak and afraid and helpless like ordinary humans are."
"Have you never felt weak and afraid and helpless?"
"Oh, yes." The hotel is about a block away and I'm beginning to wonder if he'll expect to be invited into my room.
"When?"
"When I was a boy. I determined I'd never be in that position again."
"I wasn't afraid and helpless and weak until you and Michel came along. I was doing just fine."
"Eve," he says and clucks his tongue. "Remember, I've read you."
Heat rises to my cheeks. He squeezes my arm. I tug it away, but it's futile.
"You enjoy this, don't you?"
"What – fighting with you? Oh, yes. It's going to make your inevitable surrender so much sweeter."
"Don't count on it." It enrages me that he's so certain I will.
