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“What the hell was that?” I exclaim breathlessly, staring at my hand in awe.
He grins, a twinkle in his blue eyes. “Magic.”
“Valtu taught you that?”
He rolls his eyes. “Would it surprise you if it were plain old-fashioned technology? Anyway, at a certain angle, and to your eyes only, you’ll be able to see the information you need.”
I turn my hand one way and then the other, toward the light outside, and I can see a phone number written down, an iridescent collection of numbers that’s barely visible.
“That’s my number,” he says. “Burner phone. Call it if you have a problem, but only in a life-or-death situation. I’ll see what I can do to help.”
“How long do the…how long do women…or whoever he’s enjoying,” I add, remembering how fluid Valtu’s sexual attraction is, “how long do they stay with him for?”
“You might have a day, you might have weeks. It depends if he likes you.” He shoots me a stiff smile. “And how much he likes you.” Then his eyes widen. “Oh I just remembered.” He reaches into his other pocket and pulls out a small black bag made of rubbery material. “Valtu doesn’t always feed his guests though he’ll feedfromthem. You’ll need blood if he’s not being generous. You have a few weeks’ worth of blood pills in there. Totally new version I just created, hasn’t even hit the black market yet. Keeps you full and energized for longer and the bag acts like a portable refrigerator. The cold is key to making the pills work better.”
I take the bag in wonder, having briefly forgotten that Dr. Van Helsing is the one who invented blood pills to begin with. “Thank you,” I tell him profusely as I slip it in my purse. “You know you’re practically a hero for inventing these.”
He gives me a dry look. “Depends on who you ask. Most vampires miss feeding on humans. It’s the humans that should call me a hero for sparing the lot of them, but sadly most don’t even know of our existence so…” he punctuates that with a shrug.
“So Valtu might not feed me?” Thank god I fed from Michael last night.
“He’ll give you food. But I’m not sure about blood. You see, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him have a vampire over forthissort of thing.”
My brows raise. “Is the fact I’m a vampire going to be a problem?”
“Let’s hope not.” Then he opens the door and gets out of the car and it takes all my strength to take in a long, shuddering breath, then open the door and step into my cold and unknown future.
Chapter10
Rose
Dr. Abraham Van Helsing places his fingers at my elbow and steers me down an icy lane toward the pedestrian street where people are walking, going about their daily lives in this mountain town, while I feel like I’m marching toward some uncertain doom.
I’m nervous. Not nervous enough to turn around and call the whole thing off, but nervous all the same, pins and needles inside my heart.
Will Valtu recognize me despite the spell?
Will he feel compelled to be with me?
Or will he be dismissive and cruel?
It feels like yesterday that I was in Venice with him, trying to figure out the game and how to play it, and yet that feels like it was a million times easier than what I’m about to do now, even with all that I know.
“Easy now,” Abe whispers to me. “We’ll be meeting him in the middle of a square. Knowing him, he’s probably already there. Keep yourself together.”
We round the corner, past red-faced skiers carrying skis over their shoulders, most likely having just come down a run from one of the giant mountains that loom over the town, and then the buildings open up into a snowy and picturesque pedestrian area.
And standing in the middle of it all, like a black smudge in a sea of white, is Valtu Aminoff. Sometimes my professor. Sometimes my husband. Sometimes my lover. But always Valtu.
He’s not facing us, he’s looking up at the mountains overhead, his hands in the pockets of his deep black coat. I come to a stop, wanting to stare at him and take him all in. His tall, powerful build, his luscious black hair, his disarmingly handsome face, forever staying the same through all my lifetimes. It’s been so long and yet like yesterday since I last saw him, and it takes everything in me not to break free of Abe’s grip on my arm and run toward him.
But I can’t do that.
Because he doesn’t know who I am.
And yet I still have faith. I still carry faith and hope inside my heart like a jar filled with fireflies. They burn there, fluttering against the glass, wanting to escape, but I can’t let them loose yet. Not yet.
“Come on,” Abe says quietly, pushing me forward gently, and then we’re walking again and I keep alternating from feeling like my legs are full of lead or that there’s a wind at my back.
