The Last True Vampire(37)
Who talked like that? Seriously, it was like he’d stepped right out of a time machine.
“Are you a member of some sort of cult?”
He quirked a brow. “No.”
“Mafia?”
A slow smile spread on his handsome face, revealing the glistening tips of his fangs. “No.”
“Deranged cosplayer?”
His brow furrowed. “I have no idea what that is, but I’m going to go out on limb and say no, I’m not a deranged cosplayer.”
A burst of adrenaline shot through her bloodstream. She pressed her lips together to suppress the smile that threatened as she walked slowly toward the couch and pointed a finger toward his mouth. “Are those real?”
With that sinful smile still affixed to his face, he replied, “Yes.”
“What about Ronan?”
The cocksure expression faded and a low growl permeated the silence. “What about him?”
“Is he like you?”
His expression clouded and silver chased across his gaze. “More or less. Ronan is a dhampir.”
Claire studied the reflection in his eyes, anxiety tying her in knots as she began to doubt that he was in fact wearing contact lenses. She sensed his mood shift from cocky playfulness to something darker and decided to leave her questions about Ronan to the wayside. Crap. Was she really going to buy into this? “The priest who attacked me tonight … he wasn’t human, was he?”
“No.”
Ho-ly shit. Not an ounce of deception in the word. She swallowed. “And neither are you.”
The smile returned, this time feral. “No. Neither am I.”
Truth.
“Jesus,” she said on an exhalation of breath.
Claire found herself collapsing into the nearest chair. She hadn’t truly believed it until this moment. Had spent the past hours convincing herself that none of this was real. Michael’s strange behavior at the club, the fangs, the silver flash in his eyes, the way he made her feel. And the priest. His black eyes and even blacker heart. It’s time to … coax the vampire out of hiding.#p#分页标题#e#
“You really did bite me that night at the club, didn’t you?”
His expression became hungry and Claire felt a rush of warmth between her thighs. It was like her body was hardwired to respond to him. She had not an ounce of control over herself. “I did. Your blood is a heady nectar. The sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”
Claire swallowed against the dryness in her throat even as a deep throb of desire settled between her thighs. “I think I’m going crazy,” she murmured. “I feel things that I don’t understand. I’m having the most”—a bark of laughter escaped her lips—“insane dreams. What did you do to me that night?”
His gaze was no less heated as he leaned forward on the couch. He rested his elbows on his knees and regarded her for a moment. “We are tethered, Claire. Your soul and mine. I’ve done nothing to you that you haven’t done to me. You are … my mate.”
Mate? Was he out of his fucking mind? “You might as well be speaking German to me right now, because I don’t understand a single word that’s coming out of your mouth.”
Was it too late to hightail it for the door? Granted, he’d catch her before she could set a foot onto the driveway, but still.
“I don’t understand it, either.” He let out a slow sigh and raked his fingers through his hair. Her eyes followed the motion and her own fingers twitched. “You’re human and it shouldn’t be possible. And yet, here you sit.”
“How can you be sure?” The question seemed trite, even to her. She’d felt an inextricable, instant connection with him that night at Diablo. Not so easy to dismiss as an error in judgment. “I mean, you could have made a mistake.”
“There is no mistake.” He stood and crossed the room to where she sat, settling down beside her. Electricity charged the air between them, a pleasant tingle over Claire’s skin. He smelled like heaven: dark chocolate and cinnamon topped off with a crispness like the air after a hard rain. He reached out and smoothed her hair back from her face, studying her with an intensity that caused her to tremble. “Until that night, I was untethered. Soulless. The scent of your blood called to me, and in that moment my soul was returned. You are mine, Claire, and you know this. You feel it just as surely as I do. Or have you forgotten the way you begged for me to touch you that night?”
She opened her mouth, ready to protest. She’d been caught up in the moment, sure, but that didn’t mean— He seized her mouth in a ravenous kiss that left her breathless and her lips bruised from the punishment. Hard, unyielding, he slanted his mouth across hers, deepening the kiss as he thrust his tongue in her mouth. Possessed with an almost savage need, Claire answered, cleaving to him as she fisted his shirt and pulled him closer.