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She took a breath and held it, as if she’d thought of something to say and changed her mind. Finally, she said, “Ask me a question. If it’s mine to answer, I will.”
So, nothing about the coterie, or about another supernatural. Something specific to her. Personal.
“Two questions. One for the gaze, one for stealing my energy.”
“I did not mean to steal your energy. I meant to keep you from being afraid. I assumed your body would react as a human’s. It did not.”
“Two questions, Etta.”
“Two questions.” It was an agreement.
“When is the last time you killed a human?”
“Will you listen to the why of it, or will you kill me where I stand?”
“I’ll listen to your reason.”
“I was held by someone who can’t be named, in the time period between Griffin’s death and Marco negotiating for my freedom. Another vampire was rough with a human and left her to die. She was awake and in pain, and there was no way to save her, so I put her out of her misery. This would be around six or seven months ago.”
I tasted and smelled the truth of her words, as well as the anger for the loss of life. I wished I’d asked how many humans she’d killed in the past decade, but it probably wasn’t necessary. Slayers aren’t actually judge and executioner — we don’t get justice for the humans who’ve died. Our purpose is to keep more humans from dying. Even if she’d killed thousands of humans over the centuries, if I was certain she would no longer take human lives, I’d let her live.
“Next question. Did I imagine that...” I shook my head. “Let me rephrase that. The question is: Are you sexually attracted to me?”
If you want to know whether they are lying or not, ask the question in as direct a way as possible.
“I am, Slayer. I don’t understand it, but I am.”
“Ditto.”
I turned towards the cliff face and looked up. This would be easier if it was a straight jump, but there were bushes and trees in the way. I aimed for a tree, jumped, grabbed it, and swung myself into it. Another twenty yards and I’d be at the top. I hoped the tree held, and I pushed off with my legs once again and managed to land on the edge of the cliff. Four steps forward, and I was on grass.
Etta flew up behind me and landed gracefully on the grass beside me while vibrating at a frequency cameras couldn’t catch. I don’t have that luxury, but I was wearing dark clothing and had stayed to the shadows.
“You jump much like the Lugat vampires,” she noted.
I stood and looked at her without acknowledging her statement. Finally, she asked, “Are we okay, slayer?”
“I accept your apology, but if you try to control me with your gaze or your powers again, I’ll kill you.”
“You’ll try.”
Somehow, her voice remained behind and she disappeared. The oldest ones can move so quickly, the human eye can’t keep up and it looks as if they disappeared, but Slayer eyes can usually track them. I hadn’t thought she was strong enough to do a disappearing act on me. Of course, she’d been strong enough to take me over with her gaze, so I should probably stop underestimating her.
Chapter 8
Etta
The slayer’s energy was like nothing I’d experienced before. At first, he’d smelled almost metallic, as if there was no heat. No life. No emotions. I’d known men and women like this before, and they were all scary as fuck. Ryan has a control they’d lacked, though.
But there were moments where he lost the metallic scent, and I thought that might be the scariest thing yet.
What happens when someone without emotions experiences them? When someone driven by nothing but logic suddenly feels?
He’d scared me, and I’d hurt him.
And while he was addled and out of commission, I’d peeked into his head and seen that he wants me, but he doesn’t want to want me. I shook my own head at the circular wording, but it was the truth. I’d poked into a slayer’s head, and now I wanted to run away and never look back. Sociopath was an understatement, in my opinion, and yet, he’d found some morals despite the way he’d been raised. It was just a fast peek, but I’d seen a lot. No details, just an overall impression, but it was enough, and I didn’t intend to go poking around in there again. It wasn’t likely I’d stun him enough to get away with it again and still live, for one thing.
This slayer wasn’t terribly old. He looked like a young twenty-something but seemed to be less than a hundred years old. He’d started his own security company, and he’d worked his own deal with the slayer hierarchy. When you’re one of the best at your job, you can set your own terms, to a point.
