“I have a spare room,” he continued, “and my location is safe. I would be right down the hall if you needed me.”
“I can’t,” I said, partly because I barely knew him and partly because he obviously didn’t want me to stay with him. “Are there any other options?”
His sharp gaze cut through me. “It wasn’t a suggestion, Sophia. Unless you wish to further expose yourself to the unsavory of my kind, you will stay with me.”
The idea crashed into me. My come-what-may attitude was being tested, but I refused to let Charles witness any weakness in me. “I can take care of myself.”
“I will escort you to my home and gather your things,” he said. “Now, why don’t we get out of here? You’ve been here all day.”
Just like that? He wanted to move on with the afternoon, as though he hadn’t just tried to make my decisions for me? As though my whole world hadn’t changed over the course of our conversation?
Things had changed. Like a flash flood in the canyons. It started as a thunderstorm, but the water rushed down from the high plains, quickly turning a three-foot creek into rampaging water. That was where I stood now. Right in the path of the oncoming torrent.
“By all means, don’t make haste for my benefit,” he said.
Fresh air would be better than dwelling on supernatural creatures. “Sure. Let’s go.”
While I slipped into my coat, Charles paid our bill. I left a couple dollars under my mug before meeting him over by the door. He placed his hand at the small of my back as he held the door open and ushered me outside, and my whole body warmed at his touch. The mixed signals—his as well as my own—were driving me crazy.
As soon as we were outside, his hand dropped away, and he rubbed his hands together against the cold afternoon air. Cars whooshed past, and, in an alley across the street, a garbage truck hoisted a dumpster.
We walked down a side street. Wind slapped my cheeks with scents of rusted metal and Cantonese takeout. Snow crunched beneath our feet, and the late September sunlight reflected so bright off the white sheet it made the day appear warmer than it was.
I glanced down the road, to the forest obstructing the mountains on the horizon.
“What were you doing in the Belle Meadow woods that night?” I asked.
“A couple of weeks ago?”
“Was there some other night?”
He focused on the middle distance as we walked. “I’m there a lot of nights. Hunting.”
I dug my hands into my coat pockets. “Hunting?”
“You saw when you were leaving.”
I shuddered, thinking of the lifeless animals strewn across the forest path. I slowed my steps. “You need blood? Like the Cruor?”
“Cruor can never eat human food. While the Strigoi can, we still need blood to survive.”
My hands, hidden inside my coat pockets, trembled. Outwardly, I maintained my calm. “Gross.”
“Without blood, we can’t read auras to tell good from evil.” He reached over and grazed the scar I’d gotten the night I found the animals in the woods.
“It’s a necessity,” he said, dropping his hand away again.
Something about the way his fingertips grazed my wrist sent a pulsing heat through my body, and before I realized what I’d done, I’d slipped my hand from my pocket. Part of me feared getting involved with him on any level, but another part of me craved the connection.
The back of my wrist brushed his, and he gently grasped my hand. We walked in silence for a moment, his hand loosely wrapped around mine. I could feel my hand slowly slipping away, and, when it did, he made no effort to take it again.
Tentatively, I grazed his knuckle with my pinky, and he smirked as he slipped his hand around mine once more.
“Don’t get attached.” He whispered the words so quietly, I didn’t know if the words were meant for me or for himself.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, his voice more rigid than usual. “I just don’t want you to expect anything from me.”
Wow. Talk about blunt. I took my hand back. More than anything, I wanted to disappear. I told myself his words had only hurt my pride, but it was more than that.
“I don’t expect anything from you,” I said defensively.
“Good.”
I wasn’t sure why I cared, but I did. Why did he keep leading me on if he didn’t want anything to do with me? “I better get going.”
“We can go to my place now if you like. Perhaps you need some rest.”
I glowered at him. “I don’t need any rest, and I don’t need your help.”
Observing me like one might observe the clouds to determine if it might rain, he let out a sigh. “I hurt your feelings.”
“No,” I lied.
He frowned. “Hurting your feelings is exactly what I’m trying not to do.”
Sure had me fooled. I shrugged one shoulder.
His eyes searched mine. “You can’t trust your feelings right now. There’s still a lot you don’t know, about me or my world.”
“So tell me.”