Keystone (Crossbreed #1)

“I bet you’re not as drunk as I am,” I said, setting the bottle on the window ledge.

He lay back and stared at the sky. “I feel drunk beneath all these stars.”

I eased back next to him. “How is it you can see stars? Are you sure you’re blind?” I said with a snort.

“I’m quite certain. I’ve been thinking how strange it is that people have ridiculed you for your eyes. Why is color so important to those who see?”

“Because aside from gender, color is the easiest way to divide people.”

“I’ve experienced quite a lot of prejudice in my lifetime because of my heritage, but I’m trying to imagine how eye color can be important. Eyes are so small. It’s not as if your head is purple.”

I laughed. “Maybe you are drunker than I am.”

He made a soft sound, still staring upward. A shooting star quietly skated across the sky.

“So what do they look like?” I asked. “The stars, I mean.”

His voice was loose and relaxed. “I can’t compare it to what you see. Light is energy, and all that energy is flickering and shining above us. Maybe shining isn’t the right word, but it’s everywhere. Did you know most of those stars died long ago? Their light still shines. I never knew such things when I was young; not until I became a Mage did the universe open up to me.”

“How do you fight people who have weapons?”

His brows drew down. “Good question. Some of it’s instinct, but weapons are an extension of their master. They absorb energy and intention, making them visible. Not always, but especially with a Mage or someone who’s lost control over his emotions. I’ve had centuries to refine my skills, but I’m not perfect. I still trip over curbs and run into poles.”

I shivered and took in the incredible view. I’d been on a million rooftops, but the only scenic views they gave were concrete streets and urban life. Moonlight glazed the tops of the trees like icing, and the sky was impossibly clear.

“So… you’re okay partnering with Christian?”

I laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far. You can’t trust Vampires.”

“Including you?”

I leaned over, my voice a loud whisper. “I’m part Mage.”

“Ah. So I can trust you partway.”

“Bingo.” My eyes hooded when the breeze skated across my skin. “Viktor didn’t leave me with a choice, but it doesn’t matter. I can deal with Christian.”

“You’ll be the first then. He keeps to himself most of the time. It hasn’t been an easy adjustment for the group, but maybe you’ll bring him out of his shell.”

“What am I, the turtle whisperer?”

Christian being the hermit of the house struck me as comical given his personality, but Vampires weren’t exactly notorious for forming close relationships with people.

“Niko, can you keep this a secret? Me coming up here, that is. It’s where I like to be alone.”

He snickered. “The roof?”

“When I was a kid, I used to climb on top of our trailer and just lie there, looking up at the stars. I still remember the sound of the train in the distance, the horn blowing in long intervals. I used to dream about running away and jumping onto one of those trains. It seems silly to think about it because they probably just went through small towns, but I craved adventure. I wanted to discover the world and be someone.”

“That is what all children dream.” He scooted his feet up, his legs bent at the knee.

I focused on a distant star and yawned. “Then we grow up and see the real world for what it is, and it’s not as magical as we first imagined. It’s dark and full of pain.”

He turned to face me. “So why do you still look up?”

Niko’s question spiked me through the heart, and I pushed myself to a sitting position.

He sat up and put his hand on my shoulder. “What did I say? Your light changed.”

After another gulp of wine, I lowered my voice, as if someone might actually hear me. “Do you think I’m evil?”

“Why would you ask me that?”

I pulled up my knees and hugged them. “All those men I’ve killed. Not as many as I first thought, now that I know how Vampires die, but still. I don’t feel any remorse for what I’ve done. They didn’t provoke the attack; I sought them out to punish them for their crimes.”

“They weren’t innocent,” he pointed out.

“No, but what makes me any different from them? I’ve been thinking a lot about it—good and evil. Is it based on our actions, reasons, or how we feel afterward? Is killing only wrong when the victim is innocent?”

The question hung in the air for what seemed like a stretch of eternity.

Niko glanced upward, the moonlight illuminating his face. “I don’t know, Raven. Maybe there is no good and evil.”

“So what makes us different?”

He gazed pensively into the darkness ahead. “We’re all sinners. Maybe what makes us different is that we’re willing to change.”

“I barely change clothes.”