Chapter 45 #2
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.
My stomach churned. I placed the wine glass on the coffee table.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, scowling.
“Those girls,” I whispered.
“What girls?” He sat back, confused.
I felt tears surge to my eyes. “The ones you take home?”
“What about them?”
I couldn’t stay here if he did that. I couldn’t.
My emotions felt like a Yo-Yo. I launched to my feet and moved over the fireplace.
I turned back to look at him, I needed to see his face when he answered.
He was standing up, looking pale as the moon.
Guilt I thought, he knows what I’m going to ask. Lunch moved into my throat.
“Just ask then?” he snapped, furious. The audacity of him.
I gritted my teeth together. “Do you mind control girls into sleeping with you?”
He reeled back. “No. Christ, Amy, I’m not a rapist. I can’t believe you’d even need to ask me that!”
“I don’t know what to think,” I raised my voice. “That girl, she just followed behind you like she was on a lead.” I threw out an arm. Not a lead, a trance of some kind.
“Fuck,” he grated, “I can’t believe you could think that.”
I wanted to believe him, I did, but surely he would say no. He stepped in front of me.
“I have done many things. Things you would find appalling, but I am not a rapist.”
There was pain in his eyes. He turned away and moved over to the couch, staring at the fireplace.
The anger leaked out of me and in its place, was guilt. I swallowed and stood silent, struggling to find the words to apologise.
He drowned the last of his drink and poured another. He refused to look at me. I couldn’t blame him for that, I had just accused him of being a rapist. God, what was wrong with me.
“Sorry, I just . . . I didn’t know, I just . . . had to ask,” I said, weakly.
He threw me a disgruntled look. “No. You didn’t. You should have known.”
“I just found out my housemate is a vampire,” I attempted to defend myself, badly.
“Who can read and control minds. I don’t know how .
. .” I stopped. I was about to say how many people he had killed, let alone anything else.
If I said that, he might answer, and I wasn’t strong enough to hear it, not yet.
I moved over to the chair and sat down, I fiddled with the hem of my skirt.
I could feel his gaze considering me. I looked up, the anger had dispersed on his face, but not by much.
“How do you do it then, surely there aren’t that many girls with such bad taste?
” I chided, attempting to ease the mood.
He blew out a breath and visibly relaxed. “I happen to be excessively good looking. I only have to pay them a bit of attention, and girls can’t resist me. Or I read their minds and I know which ones are going to say yes. Which is all of them.”
Such conceited arrogance. Not rape, his looks, charm and that magnetic appeal. An appeal even I wasn’t immune to. “Not quite, some of us say no.”
“Yes, I still can’t figure out how your taste can be so deplorable. You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”
I smiled, feeling a warm flood of relief. “I think I’ll manage.”
Mischief found a place in his eyes and they shimmered. “You realize this is the part where we should kiss and make up.”
Before I could respond three fast taps sounded against the door.
I knew who it would be; I hadn’t even been home an hour.
I entertained the thought, even though she had some magical powers, she might be a stalker.
She was always on her own at the bar, seemed to be there watching me more than anything.
She took zero notice of any man who approached her, of which there were many.
Was she gay—was I some kind of weird fascination?
She did her best to steer me away from Karson.
It seemed unlikely, there were many girls much more attractive than me she could target.
But stalkers didn’t necessarily always go for the prettiest or the smartest, they targeted someone they thought would fill some emotional void.
And she had followed me across the country.
Ethan sat his empty glass on the coffee table and rose leisurely.
I was tired after the long trip and in no mood for her crazy talk. “It’s probably Dahlia. Tell her I’m not back yet,” I whispered.
Ethan went to the door. “She’s not here.”
“Bullshit,” Dahlia said, “I can feel her vibrations.”
“Well she doesn’t want to see you, Dahlia.”
“Amy,” she called out, “either you come out or the ratite bat ends up against a wall.”
Ethan said, “You realise, the Ratite is a flightless bird, and not a bat.”
“It was the most pleasant descriptive I could come up with.”
I walked quickly to the door. Ethan was leaning against the frame, arms and legs crossed, unperturbed.
Outside, the world was cool and dismal, the wind barrelled through the trees, and the rain came down in a slanted drizzle, gray sheeting everything. I stopped beside Ethan and wrapped my arms around my waist.
“Dahlia,” I said with a smooth tone, hoping to placate her. “I want to thank you for helping me, I appreciate it, I really do. But I can guarantee you, you have it wrong, I don’t have your skills, I’m not what you think I am.”
Dahlia raised an eyebrow. “Really, Amy, how do you explain the vision you got in the bar?”
Just because I got some weird vision. It didn’t make me a witch. Certainly, I couldn’t move anything with my mind. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You do.”
Somewhere in the distance thunder rumbled like an ominous warning.
“I think she said she doesn’t,” Ethan stated.
Dahlia ignored him. “Listen, you can either come with me willingly, or we can do this the hard way.”
Before I could respond, Ethan stood up straight, unfolded his arms and moved slightly in front of me.
“Is that a threat Dahlia? I would be careful if I were you.” His voice was chilling
Dahlia went rigid. She might be a witch, but she would be no match for Ethan.
“Dahlia, please just go, I promise you, I’m not what you think I am.”
She stared at me for a long moment, considering, before speaking slowly and deliberately, as if fighting to keep herself calm. “The coven needs to speak with you. It’s not negotiable. They aren’t known for their patience.”
I felt myself stiffen. “Obviously, ESP isn’t among your coven’s abilities or they would know you have the wrong person.”
Her eyes were razor sharp. “Listen, Amy—”
“Dahlia.” Ethan cut her off. “You have five seconds to remove yourself from this property or I will do it for you.”
She glared at Ethan, then back at me as if debating. The tension climbed.
Ethan glanced at his watch and said, “Four,” He was as serious as I’d ever seen him. “Three.”
Dahlia’s jaw set tight, and for a moment I thought she might not heed his warning.
” Fools. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She strode off through the drizzle, faint as a spirit at gloaming.
Lightening pierced the sky above the mountain on the horizon as she jumped in her car, slammed the door, and drove off with a screech of the wheels.
I closed the door as the heavens opened their gates, and let out a relieved breath. Ethan looked at me with a curious expression. I threw up my hands, feeling bewildered. “I don’t even know what to tell you, she’s a fruit loop.”
When I went upstairs later that night, I sat on the bed and tried to move my hairbrush using my mind.
I knew it wasn’t going to happen, I couldn’t do it, but she seemed so insistent I thought I should at least try.
I held my hand out, stared at the brush and concentrated with all my might.
As expected, the brush didn’t move, not even the slightest of wobbles.
I put my hands down and huffed a laugh, feeling a little silly I’d even entertained the thought.