straightened up and looked me in the eye, realizing, maybe, that he didn't have to answer to anyone, me the least. "I cannot discuss it right now." His look softened. Did I really seem that hurt? "I will tell you later, when we have time."
"You want to save it for the plane ride back?"
He nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Yes. I will tell you everything you want to know then."
Maybe
. I wanted to know an awful lot after all. But I wasn't completely ignorant, at least about vampires in general. Not so long ago I'd been considered something of an expert. Which was why I'd been so good at killing them, why I'd headed my own team. I did know that the act of taking blood from a human donor, willing or not, involved all of a vampire's senses. Like giraffes leaning down for a drink of river water, vampires were at their most vulnerable when taking blood. Both loyal and captive vamps had described it as 'heady,' 'intoxicating,' and yeah, 'better than sex.'
Whoever had sent the bad blood must know what I knew, that by creating a need for a human donor they'd also produced an ideal situation for assassination. Thing was, I couldn't see me standing guard outside some locked door while God knows what went down inside. For all we knew these willing donors of Vayl's were part of the master plan too. That was logical me speaking. Stupid, stubborn, bizarre me couldn't stand the thought of Vayl sharing that sort of intimacy with another person. I guess I was a flake after all. Didn't need him, no. But wanted him bad enough I was about to do the unthinkable. It should've been more of a consolation to know Pete would've approved.
I stood and began to pace. "Vayl, Pete outlined my job pretty clearly to me. My highest priority is to protect you when you're vulnerable."
"During a takeout—"
"No. Always."
Vayl stood, blocking my path, making me stop and look at him. "I know where you are going with this. I will not. I cannot—"
"Why not?"
Vayl looked at me a long time, his jaw clenching and unclenching as if the words he was about to say needed to be chewed first, ground under his molars until the sharp edges wore away.
"Jasmine…" he stopped, thought a minute, tried again. "I do not know what it would do to us. You would be stepping onto a path that could lead you to vampirism."
"Not if you don't drain me. Not if I don't drink your blood."
"You are right. But because you are a Sensitive you could, you probably would change." I must've looked puzzled because he kept trying to explain. "The kind of—joining—you are suggesting is not one-way."
"So, what are you saying, that there's magic in your backwash?"
The tightness around Vayl's eyes eased a little, and a dimple appeared in his right cheek. "You could say that."
"What might happen to me?"
Vayl sank back onto his couch and I sat beside him. "I have never done such a thing with a Sensitive, so it is impossible to predict." He took my right hand between both of his, lacing our fingers together, rubbing my empty ring finger with his thumb as he stared at the memories he'd projected onto the wall.
"Could you make it so I can fly?" I asked.
That got his attention. "What?"
I felt a little self-conscious, but figured the time to guard my ego had long passed. "I've always wanted to fly," I confided, "like Superman, only without the ridiculous costume."
"It is not…"
"Or how about superhuman strength so when I throw people they sail clear across the room?"
I suddenly understood what the word 'flummoxed' meant. I'd never really known before this moment, when Vayl's eyes went all round and confused, and the only thing he could say that sounded remotely like English was, "Wa." It didn't last long. Vayl snapped back to himself and grabbed me by the shoulders.
"This is serious!" His eyes bored into mine, twin obsidian pebbles that looked ready to bury me under a great big avalanche. It ticked me off. Here I was, offering the guy his life, basically, and all he could do was
"You want to save it for the plane ride back?"
He nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Yes. I will tell you everything you want to know then."
Maybe
. I wanted to know an awful lot after all. But I wasn't completely ignorant, at least about vampires in general. Not so long ago I'd been considered something of an expert. Which was why I'd been so good at killing them, why I'd headed my own team. I did know that the act of taking blood from a human donor, willing or not, involved all of a vampire's senses. Like giraffes leaning down for a drink of river water, vampires were at their most vulnerable when taking blood. Both loyal and captive vamps had described it as 'heady,' 'intoxicating,' and yeah, 'better than sex.'
Whoever had sent the bad blood must know what I knew, that by creating a need for a human donor they'd also produced an ideal situation for assassination. Thing was, I couldn't see me standing guard outside some locked door while God knows what went down inside. For all we knew these willing donors of Vayl's were part of the master plan too. That was logical me speaking. Stupid, stubborn, bizarre me couldn't stand the thought of Vayl sharing that sort of intimacy with another person. I guess I was a flake after all. Didn't need him, no. But wanted him bad enough I was about to do the unthinkable. It should've been more of a consolation to know Pete would've approved.
I stood and began to pace. "Vayl, Pete outlined my job pretty clearly to me. My highest priority is to protect you when you're vulnerable."
"During a takeout—"
"No. Always."
Vayl stood, blocking my path, making me stop and look at him. "I know where you are going with this. I will not. I cannot—"
"Why not?"
Vayl looked at me a long time, his jaw clenching and unclenching as if the words he was about to say needed to be chewed first, ground under his molars until the sharp edges wore away.
"Jasmine…" he stopped, thought a minute, tried again. "I do not know what it would do to us. You would be stepping onto a path that could lead you to vampirism."
"Not if you don't drain me. Not if I don't drink your blood."
"You are right. But because you are a Sensitive you could, you probably would change." I must've looked puzzled because he kept trying to explain. "The kind of—joining—you are suggesting is not one-way."
"So, what are you saying, that there's magic in your backwash?"
The tightness around Vayl's eyes eased a little, and a dimple appeared in his right cheek. "You could say that."
"What might happen to me?"
Vayl sank back onto his couch and I sat beside him. "I have never done such a thing with a Sensitive, so it is impossible to predict." He took my right hand between both of his, lacing our fingers together, rubbing my empty ring finger with his thumb as he stared at the memories he'd projected onto the wall.
"Could you make it so I can fly?" I asked.
That got his attention. "What?"
I felt a little self-conscious, but figured the time to guard my ego had long passed. "I've always wanted to fly," I confided, "like Superman, only without the ridiculous costume."
"It is not…"
"Or how about superhuman strength so when I throw people they sail clear across the room?"
I suddenly understood what the word 'flummoxed' meant. I'd never really known before this moment, when Vayl's eyes went all round and confused, and the only thing he could say that sounded remotely like English was, "Wa." It didn't last long. Vayl snapped back to himself and grabbed me by the shoulders.
"This is serious!" His eyes bored into mine, twin obsidian pebbles that looked ready to bury me under a great big avalanche. It ticked me off. Here I was, offering the guy his life, basically, and all he could do was
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