While his delivery had been boorish, Christian had a point about ignoring my Vampire nature. There was no excuse for ignorance. How humiliating to think I’d been going around staking Vampires through the heart, believing that was enough to kill them.
Contrary to human beliefs, Vampires have beating hearts, warm skin, and bleed like everyone else. So stopping the heart sounded good enough to me.
It was a wonder I wasn’t dead. Immortals held grudges for a long time, and I’d been walking right into the lion’s den—revisiting those same locations where I’d staked those men.
After leaving Keystone, I took a cab into the city and spent hours in Ruby’s diner, eating four servings of hot apple pie and drinking six cups of coffee before heading out. I couldn’t stop thinking about Christian’s roguish grin, the way his lips warmed against mine, the press of his hard body… it made me wonder. Was I attracted to him, or was I just curious about my Vampire nature?
Maybe I just needed to get laid.
In any case, it was a good thing Viktor hadn’t hired me. That kiss had stoked the embers of an unnatural lust for a certain Vampire—desires that went against everything I believed in. I thought kissing him would convince me that the attraction wasn’t real, but I was wrong.
Why did I have to throw myself at a man who looks at women like disposable utensils?my inner voice nagged.
Despite that little blunder, I took advantage of the opportunity to brush up on my knowledge and fighting skills.
Six days of training passed too quickly. Niko did his best to refine my techniques and help me learn the limitations of my Mage abilities. Learning to fight like him in a week—let alone a century—was impossible. So we focused on using weapons more skillfully, how to defend myself from common maneuvers, and the basics of Mage gifts, such as telling time and sensing direction. He warned me not to deprive myself of food. Even if the Vampire side of me didn’t require it, the Mage in me needed sustenance to convert into energy.
I also had to be cautious about flashing too often since it would weaken me in a fight if I relied on it too much. My energy was dimmer than most, either because it was innate or had been suppressed after years of nonuse. Probably the former since being a crossbreed meant some of my gifts were altered, but since I had more abilities than most, that made up for any shortcomings.
I’d never met anyone quite like Niko. No wonder those men had to rush him so unexpectedly. Niko was perceptive and would have sensed them had they approached at a normal pace.
As for Christian’s sessions, they involved no physical training. I didn’t want to be locked in his arms and pinned beneath him after what had happened between us. He enlightened me on Breed facts in his imperious manner, but I didn’t spend as much time with him as I did with Niko. Christian’s antagonistic remarks left no doubt that he was only there on Viktor’s orders.
But the tension between us had more to do with that awkward kiss. It became a veil of shame, making our conversations stilted and rushed.
It was the night before my final day, and while I’d contemplated Niko’s advice about choosing the right path, it didn’t help me with figuring out what to do with my life. A career as a personal bodyguard skipped through my head a few times, but who was going to hire a woman who wasn’t legal with the Mageri? On top of that, I’d have to lie and tell them I was a Mage, and it wouldn’t be long before they figured out the truth.
In times like these, I always returned to the one place that centered me.
Home.
A home I’d readily abandoned when I was young and wild and thought I knew everything. After high school, my father had offered me a job at his garage, but I was delusional and thought a mall job would give me a normal life. Maybe it was just being around people who lived in a perfect world that made it seem possible for me to be a part of it.
My daddy was a mechanic and former Marine. But I knew him best for being a biker with a grey mustache, long goatee, tattoos, scars, weathered hands, blue eyes, and long hair pulled back in a ponytail. He drove a couple of Harleys, loved to watch TV, and drank a lot of orange soda. He was just the sort of guy you’d expect to see spending his nights at the bar, but Crush was a recovering alcoholic and stayed away from that scene. He got his nickname because of all the sodas he drank after he kicked the habit and joined Alcoholics Anonymous.
He wasn’t an angry drunk, but he almost lost custody of me when I was nine after the police arrested him for driving under the influence. I was thrust upon him at an early age after my mother died, and he wasn’t prepared to be a full-time father. My parents didn’t live together; Crush had a special relationship with my mom, but his drinking might have kept them from something more permanent. Regardless, my mother had never denied me knowing my father, and for that I was thankful.
After he got clean and sober, we built so many great memories together. He didn’t become a different man, just a better one.
If only time machines existed. Just thinking about those nights when I’d stormed out the door and told him I hated him for making me live in a trailer park made me sick with regret. It was one of those asinine things that most kids say to their parents, but I never got the chance to make it right. Crush was a hardworking man who kept me out of the foster care system after my mom died. I learned street smarts from him. He taught me to be a strong woman who could think for myself, but I never realized the sacrifices he’d made.
That epiphany only cameafterI’d become immortal, and by then it was too late since I’d had to cut ties with my human life.
I knew all his hangouts, so I never worried about running into him. Aside from that, Crush was the kind of guy who worked long days and came home to watch any comedy show on TV he could find.
I missed his laugh.
Maybe that was why I still crept over to the trailer on occasion, climbed the tree in the back, and then lay on the roof with my ear pressed against it. My love for heights began with that trailer. I’d spent many nights as a little girl sitting on top of it, pretending it was my castle.
At night I could hear him in there, popping the lid off his orange soda and belting out a laugh at something on TV. Sometimes when it grew quiet, I wondered if it was because he’d fallen asleep or because he was lost in his thoughts.
Did he ever think of me?
The worst part about it all was that I had no idea if someone had given him my cremated remains. Did a grave exist with my name on it? Had my Mage Creator hired someone to scrub his memory of me? There were so many questions I’d never have the answer to, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted them.
“I miss you, Daddy.”
Mist coated my face, and I stared bleary-eyed at the low clouds drifting overhead. My Vampire eyes could pick up the subtle shifting of light behind the darkness that hinted dawn was fast approaching.
