I shrugged. “Never read it.”
She gasped and then closed her eyes, in horror? Disappointment? I wasn’t sure, I wasn’t near as good at reading anymore, but I felt embarrassment wash over me all the same. “You’ve never read one of the most classic love stories of all time?”
“Love story?” I parroted, feeling like an idiot. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Books! I could read books about love! I could give her books.
Stephanie’s smile widened as she opened the first page.
“It’s yours,” I blurted.
She glanced up, her lips curving up into a dazzling smile. “Why, thank you, Beast.”
“Hardly the time to call me names,” I grumbled.
“Um…” She placed the book back down on the table. “It was a joke. You know, Beauty and the Beast? He gives her a library.”
Well damn, and here I just gave her one book.
Another fail.
“I don’t have a library.”
Stephanie pointed around the room. “ Kinda seems like you do.”
“I like to read.”
“I can see that.” Though clearly not romance.
Why was conversation so stilted? And why the hell was I tapping my foot like I was an impatient bastard? I’d never felt so uncomfortable in my life, confidence used to ooze from every cell in my body, I never worked for it, never had to, I knew what I was, and what I was capable of.
Now?
Uncertainty laced my every breath.
“So.” I coughed into my hand and turned around so she wouldn’t see the panic on my face. “I just wanted you to see.”
I felt her come up behind me; the chill caused goose bumps to rise across my flesh. Ice crystals formed along the edges of the windows. “You wanted me to see, what exactly?”
I bit my lip in frustration. “Me.” I hung my head. “I wanted you to see me. It may seem ridiculous, but when I’m not doing my actual job for the immortals or serving my sentence as I’d always put it mildly. I’m here. Reading. Relaxing.” I spread my arms wide, rejuvenating, pushing out the negative swirl of emotions that grate on a person like me—for doing what I did on a daily basis.
“I like it.” Stephanie finally said, her voice husky. “As far as lairs go yours is way better than Ethan’s. Much more gothic.”
I coughed out a laugh. “Yes well, we both know Vampires prefer light to dark.”
Stephanie touched my arm.
I flinched.
“Do I hurt you?”
“No.” I pulled away slowly. “I think it’s instinctual. Every time you touch me I shy away, not because it hurts, maybe it’s a deep rooted fear that all humans have, and now that I’m fully human…” I shrugged.
“Can I control you?” Stephanie’s eyes narrowed. “Technically, a Dark One can’t come into contact with an unmated human without them going insane with desire, lust— I mean, why aren’t you…?” She blinked and then looked down. “I can’t believe I just asked you that.”
“Why am I not overcome with insanity in your presence?” I chuckled. It was nice to see her uncomfortable for a change.
“Yeah.” Her chest rose and fell with even breaths, and I concentrated on her breathing; it made me calm, counting every inhale, every exhale.
“I imagine Sariel wouldn’t think it fair.”
“Fair?”
I clasped my hands behind my back. “But you’re welcome to try.”
Stephanie rolled her eyes. “How do you know I haven’t been trying?”
“Because I’m alive.”
Her eyes widened. “So if I try, I kill you?”
“Possibly, who really knows?”
“No thanks.”
“Take a chance.”
“No.” She stepped farther away from me, her back colliding with one of the book shelves.
I pursued, nearly slamming my body against hers, not because I wanted to force her but because I couldn’t help the aggression pounding through my veins. When she retreated I wanted to pursue. I couldn’t help myself any more than I could stop myself from breathing.
“Where’s your sense of danger and adventure?” I taunted, pressing my hands to her cold arms. “Try.”
“I could kill you.”
“I’ll try not to die.”
“Oh,” she muttered and cursed under her breath. “How reassuring.”
“Do it.”
“No!”
“Oh, so you’re afraid.” I nodded mockingly, “Don’t think I’ve ever met a Dark One who experienced fear.”
Her nostrils flared. “Don’t push me.” The room temperature plummeted.
I arched an eyebrow then very slowly leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “Chicken.”
It was immature.
I knew that.
She knew that.
But it didn’t stop her reaction.
With catlike reflexes she pushed me across the room, I landed perfectly in the chair, she jumped into the air and pounced, straddling me with both legs. One tilt of her head and our eyes locked.
Hers turned white.
It was eerie, watching someone else do what I’d done thousands of times, this time with me being on the receiving end.