“Imagine that. You see how fast language changes?”
I hooked my fingers around the belt loops in his pants and gave them a tug. I’d missed him. His smell, his crooked smile, the whiskers that grew down his neck—even his raggedy old lace-up boots.
He brushed his finger down my cheek. “I still haven’t decided if I like the blue eye better or the brown.”
“Does one have to be better than the other?”
A look of regret crossed his expression. “You’ve had plenty of time to think about our situation. It’s not too late to change your mind. I won’t scrub your memory unless you give me permission.”
I locked eyes with him. “Just because I’m not tackling you on that sofa doesn’t mean I’ve changed my mind. Have you?”
“I can’t erase how I feel, but perhaps we’ve made foolish choices.”
“If you scrub my memory just to save face, I’ll find out. And I’ll hunt you down if you run. I’ve been through a lot of shit. There’s nothing you could do to me that hasn’t already been done. Life already broke my heart.”
He abruptly curved his hand around my nape and kissed my forehead. There was more passion and meaning in that kiss than all the others he’d given. It claimed me like no words ever could.
“Are you still vexed that Viktor didn’t let you come with me?” he asked, referring to his trip.
“We’re partners. He sent you off to another continent without backup. How do you think I feel about it?”
Christian lowered his arms and sighed. “Europe is the old country, and they can smell new blood. I was tracking down one of Viktor’s informants, and that meant going through some of my old contacts. Bringing you along would have raised suspicion, and I’d already invited enough of it.”
“Why couldn’t you just call this guy or send him an email?”
“He went missing. Completely off the grid.”
I folded my arms. “So? What good is an informant who lives across the ocean? How often do we go on trips to Paris or Greece?”
“For immortals and semi-immortals, it becomes an infinitely small world. You run into the same people, but you also learn valuable information along the way. Think of how much knowledge you’re privy to by the connections you’ve made and the case files you’ve reviewed.” Christian stepped away. “Besides, Viktor knew him from long ago, and he’s not the sort of man who goes missing.”
“Did you find him?”
Christian flattened his back against the wall, hands in his pockets. “Aye.”
I surmised by his response that he didn’t find the man alive. “Do tell.”
“It was a shanty village in Bulgaria, and they’re not fond of Vampires. Most of the villagers were Shifters or Relics, and not much else.”
I moved toward the corner of the sofa and chuckled. “Isn’t that where Vlad the Impaler was from?”
“Close enough. And being Irish didn’t help matters. They’re not a fan of my accent.”
“Too chipper?”
He gave me a dark look. “It’s an isolated village, so most of them severed contact with even the humans in nearby villages. The packs run wild day and night. I was vulnerable in the daytime, so I had to do my moving about at night between the tavern and Valko’s farm.”
“Valko was Viktor’s informant? How did he get in touch with Viktor? Do they have internet out in the sticks?”
“You’d be surprised how resourceful some are, but not these people. Valko was an old man who knew a lot of dirt on Breed—mostly undocumented history. He and Viktor exchanged letters through a foot messenger.”
“That’s risky,” I murmured, thinking how easily a messenger could use that information to his own advantage.
“Aye, but in this case, Valko had her complete loyalty.”
“So he made his wife run back and forth?”
“Valko wasn’t mated. The townspeople said he was one of the oldest Shifters in the village, and his pack broke apart centuries ago for reasons I don’t know. After that, he secluded himself, severing contact from all the large packs in the territory. People rarely saw him, and he became folklore for many of the young who dared to walk up the path to his farm.” Christian’s eyebrows gathered together. “Some said he’d gone mad and his wolf had developed a taste for chewing on the bones of children.”
I chuckled. “I bet he created that rumor to keep people away.”
“I never found any bones, so that’s promising. Don’t underestimate how savage a Shifter can become. Sometimes when their animal goes mad, so do they.”
A shiver ran down my spine. “If someone had murdered you, how would we have known?”
He pursed his lips. “Perhaps I’d have Wyatt on speed dial for the dead?”
I gave him a peevish look. “How did Valko die?”
“I convinced everyone I was an old acquaintance and had a message to deliver. Lies, but after a while, they didn’t see me as much of a threat—outside of the fact I’m a Vampire. I had money to spend in the tavern, so that was a little boost to their nonexistent economy. I charmed a conniving old woman who was adamant about turning the town against me. Her sons mysteriously vanished around the same time as Valko’s disappearance. The old bag confessed that they’d schemed to rob Valko of all his riches, but when they didn’t find any, they killed him and hid the body up in the hills.”
I stepped away from the sofa and inched toward him. “What did you do to the woman?”
His eyes flicked up. “Everyone deserves punishment.”
“Did you scrub her memory?”
Christian was a contemptuous man who showed no mercy. But would he slay a woman even if she deserved it?
His bottomless eyes made it difficult to read his expression. “Aye. I removed her memory. And when her sons return one day to reconcile with their mother after abandoning her, they’ll discover she has no recollection of their vile deeds. In fact, she won’t have any memory of them at all. She admitted that even if they’d found any treasure, they would have still left her behind. They were rotten to the core—greedy men who refused to work and made their poor old mother do all the cooking, cleaning, and labor. But she was no saint. She protected them when they committed crimes within the village, like stealing goats and setting fires.”
“I’m assuming if Viktor sent you all the way to Bulgaria, he must have been good friends with this guy. Do you think that’s why he stayed home tonight? He’s depressed over his friend’s death?”
Christian pulled a lollipop from a small canister on a shelf to the right. “You’re inquisitive tonight. More than usual.”
I nodded toward the red candy. “Be careful. They might be spiked.”
He plucked off the wrapping and eased the flat lollipop between his lips. “Stick to your tequila and leave the strong stuff for the grown-ups.”
I sauntered up and flattened my hand on his stomach. “I just hope a Sensor didn’t imbue that with erotic fantasies.”
Christian slowly pulled it out, the glossy candy staining his lips red. “Already have those, lass. Why don’t you ask me the question that’s really plaguing your thoughts?”