The reaction when she suggested maybe meeting other sanguinant so she could compare notes was thought-provoking as well.
“Be good,” she continued. “I decide where and when, that’s the deal.”
“That is our agreement, yes.” Another nuzzle, a very light scrape of his blunt human teeth on the side of her neck, and he laughed softly when she shivered.
The living room couch was vast, dusty blue, and comfortable, her one insistence for the furnishings. It didn’t match the sleek coffee tables, Eames chairs, and whole minimalist vibe he had going on, but he never complained about the incongruity.
Miles away from Curt, indeed. She pulled her legs up and settled, tailor-fashion, in her usual spot. And as usual John stretched out, his head in her lap, seemingly supremely comfortable and handing her the remote without being asked.
“What were you watching?” Simone couldn’t get over how much an old vampire likedcable, for God’s sake. Not to mention streaming.
“Nature show.” His bright eyes hooded, he went motionless as a cat, nearly boneless as well. If he started to purr she wouldn’t be surprised. “One may roam the world without leaving the room.”
“Yeah, but you only see what the producers want.” The screen lit up, a giraffe working on a high branch with a long dark-grey tongue—when she thought about it, Simone could believe vampires were just one of Ma Nature’s little experiments, set loose in the petri dish of a rocky, watery planet.
“True.” He studied her instead of the screen, gazing up from her lap as she sipped. “Would you like to travel?”
“Not just yet.” Sometimes it was exhausting, all the decisions each night. Did she like this, did she want that, did she prefer, what did she want?
Simone inhaled the steam rising from her cup gratefully, pressed the button.
Channels popped by, the volume at the lowest possible setting. Most nights she didn’t want the noise or the bright moving pictures first thing; sometimes streaming old movies with a bowl of uneaten popcorn was tolerable.
She couldn’t settle enough to knit just yet.
As usual, John didn’t look like he minded her restless surfing. He seemed to enjoy whatever happened; there was, however, always the inevitability of his hands on her, his mouth, her own gasps and pleading, sometimes outright screams of release.
And the feeding. Can’t forget that.Finding out that he took a little from her during the day had provoked what would have been a knockdown drag-out fight with anyone else, but he simply listened to her furious spluttering and inquired whether she would like to be bitten while awake, as if it made no difference.
One way,he said quietly,or another. Choose, sweet Simone.
She wasn’t sure what to think about that yet, either.
Simone skipped past the news, stopped, flicked back. A shiny-haired man with a soothing mellow tenor looked into the camera with what he had to be sure was reassuring gravitas, and in a box to the upper right another man’s face floated, promo stock footage from a company event, flashbulbs popping as Elton Huske posed, thumbs in black fleece-vest pockets.
“—fire in his Aspen vacation home,” the announcer intoned.“His company was found to be nearly bankrupt, despite the high stock valuations of X-OL and several subsidiaries; investigations are still ongoing. To date, Huske’s body has never been found.”
Coffee slopped in the mug as Simone shuddered. John moved swiftly, whisking the remote away, and the TV screen died once more, its electric glow shrinking to nothingness, becoming a blank dark mirror.
He set the remote carefully aside and was suddenly in a different position, his hands on hers around hot ceramic, steadying and safe. An inquiring look, his lips parted slightly as if to speak, and with that expression he was actually, well, handsome.
Or maybe she only thought that because she was sleeping with him. An open question.
“I’m fine,” Simone said, forestalling the question. “Really. I promise. Did you…”
Did you take his money?She didn’t want to think it was possible for a vamp to learn so quickly, though now he knew his way around a computer and she’d even caught him playing games on his sleek black smartphone, studying the screen with an abstracted air as his fingers blurred.
He’d be hell at a casino. Good Lord.
Huske had more likely blown his fortune on that mountain hideout—which couldn’t have been cheap—plus chasingimmortality in vampire form. It was also possible X-OL had been a sham, a prettily wrapped present with rotting innards dribbling out the bottom.
She couldn’t tell which prospect was most terrifying. Or revolting.
“Did I what?” Funny how anxious John looked. Howhuman, blue eyes shaded with worry, straight eyebrows drawn together, a tendril of dark hair falling over his slightly wrinkled forehead, his palms so warm and sure against her skin. “Simone?”
“I wanted to ask.” There was no shortage of questions; she was a damn near inexhaustible well, and always faintly amazed that he never seemed to tire of considering each one carefully before answering. “Have you remembered anything else? About the fire?” So far, the best guess was that the event had occurred in Frisco itself, a quake and a conflagration long enough ago to be consideredhistory. Which was part of the reason they’d settled here, to hopefully jog his memory.
Though to be honest he didn’t seem very interested in the exercise. It could have been Timbuktu for all he cared, though he dutifully went on trips to the older parts of the city with her, looking around with studious attention, far more interested in her own observations.
