Santiago follows and pins me against the back of the couch with his body.
“Leave me alone, Santiago.”
“Wish that I could.” He pauses, leans in. “Who’s the girl?”
“My friend,” I say and shake my head. “It doesn’t matter anyway. She’s dead.”
His eyes seem to glow in the dim light of the room, like a gloat, like he knows something.
“Are you sure, Elliot?”
“Of course I’m sure,” I counter. “She went to work at VMR and they killed her.”
He lifts a brow. “And you don’t even care?”
“Of course I do.” My stomach claws at itself. I take a breath and face a horrible truth. “There’s just nothing I can do about it now.”
When he slides a finger down between my breasts, I push at him, but he doesn’t move.
“Oh?” he asks with a chuckle as I knock his hand away. “And you’resureshe’s dead?”
Santiago’s question takes me off guard.
“Yes. No. I-I don’t know…”
His sly smile turns into a wolfish grin. “You trust that Lucian is telling you the truth?”
No, my mind yells. Lucian hasn’t given me any reason to trust him. All he’s done since I’ve met him is dance around the truth, doing everything to never touch it unless cornered by me.
Now that I think about it, the only thing he’s probably ever confessed to was his being a vampire. And that took him long enough.
Finally, Santiago steps back, putting some space between us. “Has Lucian ever told you how he came to meet his little human girlfriend, Penelope? Or should I say Nell?”
I think back to the picture of a young Nell sitting on the beach, smiling in the sunshine.
“No.” I shake my head. I don’t want this. I don’t want to hear the story of how my sort-of boyfriend, my vampire master, loved another woman. I turn toward the bedroom, intent on grabbing my luggage and ending this conversation.
But Santiago’s voice stops me cold.
“I’m not surprised,” he says mildly. “Lucian is very good at keeping the truth close to his vest. I don’t think he even told Nell the full story.”
I turn back slowly. “What do you know?”
His smile thins. “Lucian wasn’t always the neat, precise killer you know. That came later. It took practice. Discipline.”
He steps closer, eyes never leaving mine.
“One night, he made a mistake. Sloppy. Emotional. An innocent couple—walking home from a movie. Wrong place, wrong time.” Santiago shrugs. “It happens. But when he searched the man’s pockets, in his wallet Lucian found a house key and a picture of a child. And inside that house…” He pauses, watching me. “There was a young girl waiting for parents who were never coming home.”
My stomach tightens.
“Guilt did something strange to Lucian that night,” Santiago continues. “Instead of moving on like he usually did, he lingered. He watched her. Made sure she was taken care of. Money appeared from nowhere. Doors opened. People looked the other way.”
“That doesn’t mean?—”
“He told himself it was kindness,” Santiago cuts in smoothly. “Even when those around him warned him that what he was doing was foolish, dangerous. But he didn’t stop watching. When she grew into a woman, he finally stepped out of the shadows. Inserted himself into her life. A guardian angel who never aged and she never knew he was the reason her life had been turned upside down years ago.”
My pulse starts to thrum in my ears.
