“I’ve had enough of this Vincent Price bullshit,” Shepherd muttered on his way out of the room.
By that point, everyone else had left. Or so Christian thought.
Wyatt’s eyes were off to the side as if listening to someone talking. “He can’t remember the details of his life, but he remembers you were an asshole.”
Christian snorted. “That’s hardly conclusive evidence.”
Wyatt tugged on the edge of his hat until it covered his ears. “He can’t remember who he is, but he thinks about the Atlantic Ocean a lot. He said the sound of the waves calms him whenever he gets confused or upset.”
Christian blanched and stepped back. “The ocean?” Wyatt was a jokester, but that was too specific. “What does thisJohnlook like?”
Wyatt glanced over his shoulder. “Big guy. Tough in the face. He looks like a marine or something, and he used to be a human. Dark hair, and his ears stick out a little. Come on, man. Just take him where he needs to go. Otherwise, he’s going to haunt this house forever. So, do you know him? ’Cause he sure as hell doesn’t know himself.”
Christian knew who Wyatt was describing. Not exactly an old friend, but an acquaintance all the same. It made him wonder about the afterlife. If ghosts were real, had his sister ever sought him out? Or the men he’d killed in the past? Better that he didn’t know. If Gravewalkers could see all that, no wonder most of them weren’t killers.
“Aye. I know him.”
Wyatt arched an eyebrow. “Now that’s a twist I didn’t see coming. He’s been avoiding everyone since he arrived; I guess that’s why he didn’t notice you before. If he’s someone you”—Wyatt made a slicing motion across his throat—“then maybe you should get a case of amnesia.”
“What does it matter? I can’t see the bloody puff of air.”
“No, but they have a way of influencing the living from the afterworld. Sometimes through emotions. They can put thoughts in your head, especially when you’re half-asleep. Some figure out how to manipulate electricity, like the idiots that used to live here who were always creating power surges in my game room to shut off the computers. Blasted spooks.”
Christian flicked him on the forehead. “Can we stick to the matter at hand?”
“Do you know a place you can take him? I doubt he’ll get out of the car unless it’s someplace familiar.”
Christian folded his arms. “I can think of a location.”
“Don’t send him to the cemetery,” Wyatt warned. “They get pissed when you do that.”
“Do I get a favor for this?”
“Big-time.” Wyatt spun on his heel. “Hey, John. Christian says he remembers you now. He wants to take you somewhere…. I don’t know, but he says you’ll remember. Isn’t that what you want?” Wyatt stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I guess it’s the end of the line for us… Thanks.”
“What’s he saying?” Christian asked, curious.
Wyatt turned, and a smile touched his lips. “He said he likes my hat.”
As Christian speddown the road in his car, he periodically glanced at the empty passenger seat. There was no draft, the windows weren’t foggy, no ethereal glow or flickering shadow—nothing to indicate a dead person was sitting beside him.
Maybe Wyatt was a raging lunatic.
Which made Christian the bigger lunatic for agreeing to something like this. Despite all the magic in the Breed world, it was hard for a man to believe in something he couldn’t see with his own eyes. But Christian rarely turned down opportunities for a favor owed, and if it kept Wyatt from talking to himself, then he was all for an exorcism by Honda.
He kept thinking about the moment Glass had opened the front door. It replayed in his head over and over during the drive, and Christian fantasized about whether it would have been more satisfying to rip his throat out first or break bones. He normally didn’t have any personal feelings one way or the other about a suspect unless they crossed him, but something about Glass struck a nerve, and it had nothing to do with the previous murders, not even that of Marlene. It was the look in Raven’s eyes.
He’d rarely seen such a strong and capable woman look so conflicted, and it troubled him. She was his partner, and he couldn’t tolerate the thought of working with someone who couldn’t get hold of her emotions. Especially around a Chitah.
Or maybe it wasn’t that at all. On the night of Marlene’s murder, Christian hadn’t been able to stand the thought of sitting at home and imagining what the two of them would be doing all night, so he’d left and found a date of his own. In fact, he’d specifically sought out a Chitah. When he drove past the finest restaurants in town and spotted Glass’s car, he couldn’t help himself. Raven had the right to see whomever she wanted. Why did it vex him so?
It was that fecking kiss. She’d made him wipe her memory of it, and he hadn’t understood why. His jealousy had nothing to do with the influence of blood. That happened before he’d tasted her. Now he found it impossible to look at Raven without imagining her warm body pressed against his and her tongue in his mouth tasting of cherry wine. He remembered the eagerness between both of them—a unique chemistry he didn’t feel with other women. A desire to kiss her over and over, discovering every curve of her body with his hands and mouth. Her breasts were sculpted from perfection, her legs as long as the Nile, and she wasn’t soft like most women. Raven worked out, and if she could kill a man with her thighs, it tempted him to know what it would feel like to have them wrapped around his head.
That fecking kiss.
If only he could look in the mirror and scrub his own memory, but it didn’t work like that. Now he was cursed with maintaining an awkward relationship with his partner, who had no memory of their intimacy, leaving him alone with his foolish thoughts. He should have never drunk from her. Those bullet wounds would have healed on their own—albeit slowly. And now that she’d tasted him, their lives were tangled in a way that couldn’t be undone. It had been so long since he’d taken the vein of another Vampire that he’d forgotten the dark lure of ancient blood, which lived in all of them.
Christian muttered a curse and rolled down the window, inviting a blast of icy wind into the car. Women always had to complicate things. It was all he could do to forget the decadent taste of her salty skin and the sound of her heart racing in his ears. How was it possible to feel that much desire from something as innocuous as a kiss?
