“Sorry. You’ve just found out what we are, and now I’m talking about killing people. I know it must be a lot for you to take in.”
“A bit,” I said. Which was a mammoth understatement.
Ethan moved over to the pantry and pulled out a bottle of red wine and two glasses. “Want one?”
I nodded.
He poured the drinks and handed one to me. “Where does this leave us?” he asked, “I mean, do you feel safe here or do you want to move out, or . . .” He trailed off and looked out the window again, watching the clouds roll through the sky, a mist hovered though the foothills of the mountains and buried the landscape.
For reasons that defied logic, I felt safe. I cared for him. Our friendship was strong. But was it strong enough to stand it if he killed someone, even someone who deserved to die?
I took a sip of wine. Shook my head. “I don’t know,” I said at last.
“I won’t hurt you.” He sounded hoarse and pained. “I would never hurt you, Amy.”
His words filled me with bubbly warmth. “I know, I feel safe around you and Karson. I don’t care that you’re a vampire. I don’t care that you drink blood to survive. If anything, I think your skills are amazing. But killing people who should be jailed, I’m not sure I could cope with that.”
This was the point he could say I think you should move out. It was a get out of jail free card for him. And it would be forthe best. Probably. He was a vampire, he drank blood. Human blood, and me being human and all . . . He killed people, maybe. I couldn’t live with a killer. Probably. I’d be alone again. I’d done it before, lots of times. It was fine. I’d be fine.
I felt everything tighten inside, my chest squeezed like a giant fist wrapped around my heart. It was hard to breathe.
Ethan sighed. “It looks bad for them, but it doesn’t mean they did it.”
“But if they did?”
He held my gaze unapologetically for a long beat. “I can’t promise you anything, but if we can get them charged and jailed then I guess I could live with that.”
He didn’t want me to move out. The pressure on my chest eased. He wasn’t going to tear someone’s head off. Yet.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeated. “I’m guessing there are some ground rules we need to discuss then?”
I headed past him towards the living room. He followed behind. “Yes, if you’re happy for me to keep living here,” I spoke over my shoulder. “No mind reading, no listening in to private conversations. No drinking my blood, or any of my friends’ blood, and no mind control.” I settled myself on the couch. He sat down a body width away and mirrored my position.
“Is that it?” He took a sip of wine.
I studied his face, knowing there was a thought behind his question, not knowing what. “I think so.”
He grinned. “I noticed you didn’t say no sex.”
I whacked him across the stomach, it was rock hard. “Definitely no sex, and if I bring someone home, no listening.”
He looked heavenwards in thought, his lips curved up, twisted his head to me.
“Can’t make promises I can’t keep, but then again you’re almost a nun so the chances of you bringing anyone home are slim.”
I smiled, our eyes locked, no more words passed but a mutual understanding was shared.
I sat back. Thinking about what a playboy he was and glad he didn’t bring the numerous girls he courted home. Our bedrooms were a good distance apart, but still.
“He has pretty much slept with half the town.”
“It’s about time someone said no to him.”
I felt the color drain from my face.
Oh god did he . . . Would he . . . Mind control them to sleep with him? If he did it was as putrid as giving girls Rohypnol. It was rape. All he’d done was whisper to that girl and she’d followed him like a loyal puppy. It was easy, far too easy.
