“I swear, if that smug vampire thinks he can just kiss me and walk away…”
I nearly drop my glass. “Kara?”
Darick sits up straighter. “What is it?”
“…and now I’m imagining his voice. Great. Just great. Get it together, Kara.”
“I can hear her,” I say, pressing my fingers to my temple. “In my head. She’s…annoyed with me.”
“What…what the hell is going on?”Kara’s voice echoes in my mind again, this time accompanied by a surge of frustrated energy that makes my skin tingle.
Without thinking, I respond through the connection.
“You tell me.”
A sharp spike of surprise floods through the link.
“Marcus?!”
“Quiet!” I say out loud.
“What?” Darick blinks at me.
“I’m not talking to you,” I snap, spinning around as if I’ll see her stepping out from the shadows.
Maybe I will. Or maybe this is my imagination.
“Marcus Nightshade? Why can I hear you?”
“I don’t fucking know!” I’m still speaking aloud.
“For fuck’s sake, Marcus, what the hell is going on with you?” Darick is glaring at me.
“It’s not… I don’t…” I lick my lips. “I’m speaking to…” How do I say this without sounding deranged?
“How is this happening?”It’s Kara again.“What’s going on?”
“I have no fucking idea!”My fists bunch, frustration and consternation warring within me.
“Marcus, are you going to answer me?” Darick is losing patience.
“I’m speaking to Kara Blackwood, goddammit!” I spit the words, feeling like a fool as I say them.
“You’re speaking to…?” Darick’s expression shifts from confusion to understanding, then to something that looks disturbingly like amusement. “Ohhhh… By the gods,” he breathes. “It’s a blood match.”
“That’s impossible,” I snap, even as Kara’s presence fills my mind with a warmth I can’t ignore. “We haven’t shared blood.”
“Neither had Rowan and I, at first,” Darick says, leaning back in his seat and looking so damned smug I want to strike him. “Sometimes the connection forms before the blood exchange. It’s rare, but…” He gestures at my obvious discomfort. “The signs are unmistakable.”
“Get out of my head!”Kara’s mental voice bristles with indignation.
“Believe me, I’m not doing this on purpose.”
My response earns another burst of surprised frustration from her end of the connection.
“Bastard!”
Suddenly, the buzzing goes silent as quickly as it had started. I sway slightly, then turn and drop into the closest seat.
