Bloodspell (15 page)

"So, can I ask you something?" he asked. "How do you do it, Tori? The drink thing? How do you get it right every time? Is it like ESP?"

"I wish," she said. "I'm only right half of the time really. It's just a logical guessing game based on what they've had in the past." She avoided his eyes and pasted a vacuous expression on her face. He frowned.

"You've been right every time I've been here."

"I'm sure I get it wrong a lot actually, but I think people just play along for fun."

At that moment, Charla and Angie came over to say hello, and Gabriel left after shooting a nasty look at Angie. Victoria was grateful for the interruption. Lying always made her nervous.

The girls ordered two sodas, which Victoria gave them on the house despite a dark look from Tony. Charla was her talkative self as usual, going on and on about her weekend in Boston, and Angie spoke in monosyllables, giving no indication that they'd had more than a civil conversation just a few days before.

In the midst of listening to Charla's breakdown of a guy she had met in Boston at a baseball game, Victoria felt him come in even before she saw him. She kept her face calm—a fair feat, given the fact that her body felt like it was on fire. She was already red-faced from the heat of the bar and hoped that Angie wasn't using her "second sight." She refused to acknowledge him and busied herself serving a round of drinks to the people at the far end of the bar.

Christian Devereux means nothing to me.

Victoria saw him nod to a few people he knew, waiting and watching her openly. She tried to ignore him but his heavy-lidded stare made her feel cornered like she was in some cat-and-mouse game she didn't really understand. He tore his gaze from her lips when she glared rudely at him and stomped down toward his end of the bar. As she approached, she heard his attempt at casual conversation. "I hear there's a birthday special here." She instantly tried to turn around and duck out the back, but it was too late as the chanting began, sung by the overzealous bar patrons.

"Birthday! Birthday! BIRTHDAY!"

"Okay, fine," Victoria said. "Last one tonight though, okay?" She looked at Christian, and fought an involuntary urge to flee. In that single glance, she could see his remorse, but instinct together with the amulet scorching her skin, warned her not to give in. Victoria knew she could not fall prey to whatever lay behind those compelling eyes.

"Stop looking at me like that," she hissed under her breath.

"Like what?"

"You know exactly well like what! Like ... like I'm ... something to
eat
!" His smile deepened, transforming the austere planes of his face and catching her by surprise.

"Is that so bad?"

"Is it really even your birthday?" she countered, ignoring the question that had started a slow burn in her chest.

"Tori, what happened a few weeks ago, it's not what you think." His voice was quiet, for her ears only. She resisted its velvet undertones.

"Wait, don't answer that," she said. "I don't care."

She steeled herself against his gaze and focused her mind toward his. She was met with the same brick wall as before. Without a second thought, she looked at him head on and released the full force of her power, engaging everything she'd learned about herself and her magic over the last few weeks. Christian's lips parted and his eyes widened in astonishment. Within seconds, it was over and she deftly mixed a drink, placing a Bloody Mary on the table in front of him.

"It was the closest thing we had to what you wanted, and you're underage so virgin it is."

An amused smile crossed his face but he picked up the drink and inclined his head toward her. Everyone cheered. He sipped it as she disappeared out the back yelling to Tony that she was going to take a few minutes to herself.

Victoria sat in the small break room holding a glass of water and took a deep calming breath. The Bloody Mary had been a wild guess, because for some reason, she couldn't get past the feeling that he wanted a drink with the word blood in it. She cast her thoughts back. She wasn't sure how she'd done it, but when she had pushed past Christian's initial defenses, she'd seen a lot.

What had really surprised her was the barely discernable energy she had sensed, as if he possessed special abilities himself. Something told her that he was hiding more, deeper still, because just as she'd withdrawn, she'd felt something else, but it was so brief she wasn't sure what it'd been.

She'd also seen his regret for how he'd behaved but he'd been wearing that on his sleeve the minute he had walked through the door. It had gone some way to mollifying her hurt, until she understood something else inside his head, something that had made the breath whoosh out of her in a painful rush; a thought he'd wanted to keep hidden but still flashed loud and clear—they could never be together.

Enough is enough,
she told herself fiercely.
You have your answer.
Move on.

When she came back out to the front, she felt Christian watching her, but she deliberately did not look at him and walked down to the opposite end of the bar where Charla and Angie were saying their goodbyes.

"You guys heading out?" Victoria said to Angie.

"Charla has an assignment due tomorrow, so we're going to call it a night."

"Can I ask you something?" Victoria whispered, leaning in. When Angie nodded surprised, she continued. "When we were talking last week, you said something about Christian Devereux being colorless. What did you mean by that?"

"That's what I meant. Colorless." Victoria's blank stare made Angie clarify. "As in no color at all. As in dead," she said. Angie leaned closer to Victoria, her stringent face anxious. "He's not good for you, Tori."

Victoria was so stunned by the fact that Angie had called her Tori that she barely took in the fact that Angie was warning her off.

"Wait, I don't understand what you mean by dead."

"He's not human."

As if she'd said too much, Angie gave her a searching look and left without another word. Victoria could feel Christian's eyes boring into her.

Not human. Not human. Not human.

The words drummed in time with her chaotic pulse, making her palms clammy.

Tori,
look at me.
The silent command was inviting, compelling. Victoria's heart raced even as her brain registered that his words had been spoken inside her head.

Why should I? So I can serve as your punching bag some more?

She felt his sadness.
I am sorry.
It's
...
complicated.

How complicated can it be,
Christian?
You've made it pretty clear how you feel about me every time you are near me.
It's exhausting.
I just want you to stay away from me.

I ... cannot.

I am not doing this with you.
I won't.
I can feel every part of you pushing me way.
If I'm that horrible,
then just leave me alone.

Tori,
look at me.
She clenched her teeth as he opened himself to her, the raw feelings he conveyed undermining her will far more than any words could. She steeled herself. She'd
seen
all of his excuses, all the reasons why he couldn't allow himself to feel anything for her. She didn't understand why, but it'd been as clear as day—he was not meant for her.

Please,
Tori,
he said.

No.

You must.
She felt the surge of his compelling magnetism. She brushed it aside like a troublesome fly, turning to look him directly in the eye.

I don't know who or what you are,
but try that again,
and I
will
hurt you.
Get out of my head,
Christian
!
She held his gaze before her final push.
You are not meant for me.

Although she knew he was prepared, especially after the last time she'd knocked him over, it gave her great satisfaction to see his eyes widen as she forcefully shoved him out, erecting an impenetrable fortress around her mind. She moved further down the bar to put as much distance between them as possible and gravitated recklessly toward a familiar face.

"Hi Gabe!" she said over-brightly, throwing caution to the wind. Her tone was warm and flirtatious.

Gabriel leaned forward, his tanned forearms pressing on the bar, giving her a charming smile of his own. "So if I said it was my birthday, what would be my drink of choice?" His tone matched hers, and Victoria was too agitated to listen to the voice of reason in her head. She gave him a coy smile, leaning forward.

"Is it your birthday, Gabriel?"

"No, but I was hoping for a freebie."

The bar erupted in cheers, and took up the chant of "Freebie!" with uproarious glee. Victoria put her hands on her hips, playing along shamelessly, putting into play all of the feminine wiles she had been born with, but had never been a fan of using.

Until then.

"It looks like ... you want ..." People leaned forward in anticipation. She peeked through her lashes toward the end of the bar, registering the expression of contempt on Christian's face as he glared at Gabriel.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows in cool challenge, and Victoria didn't hesitate, an instinctive response born out of wanting to make Christian
react
just a little bit, to make him pay for the hurt she'd suffered at his hands.

"I'm just not quite sure whether you want it ..." She paused for dramatic effect. "Shaken or stirred." Then she leaned forward and planted a light kiss on Gabriel's lips.

She didn't hear the snarl, she
felt
it, but before she could react, the crowd erupted, clapping Gabriel on the back and laughing noisily. Gabriel looked at her and winked, ordered a Coke, and then headed back over to his friends who were laughing and cheering like idiots.

Victoria waited a couple minutes as a wave of embarrassment overcame her, and felt a stab of disappointment as she saw the empty seat. She felt strangely drained and stupid. She'd wanted to teach Christian a lesson, to show him that his kiss and his thoughts had meant little to her, but it had only backfired. She felt worse than ever.

CHRISTIAN STOOD OUTSIDE the bar, his clenched fists drawing blood in his palms. He wanted to destroy something, anything to offset the fury that consumed him. Having skipped rehearsals, the need to see her had been tormenting, its ache relentless, and he'd come to the bar because nothing else could assuage it. He had tortured himself watching her flirt with Gabriel, watching the long line of her neck bend toward him, watching her long fingers on the cusp of her hips as she leaned back provocatively, watching her lips press onto his in agonizing slow motion, and worst of all, her doing those things
knowing
that he had been watching.

Losing control was a risk that he simply could not afford. He couldn't fathom how she made him so uncontrollable, so violent with just a look or a word. His usual defenses were like paper before her, not just because she was an accomplished witch, but because she was her. If he had stayed one more second, he wouldn't have been able to control his actions, and he would have torn that boy to pieces, along with everyone else in that bar.

And the clincher, her words—
you are not meant for me.
She'd taken them straight from his head, straight from the laws that bound him. How could she possibly understand what they meant? All she'd seen were the words themselves and believed them to be his. Explaining that law to a human would mean breaking another law.

He leaned his head against the cool stone of the wall, suddenly weary. The way she'd looked at him when she'd given him the drink had stunned him. She'd looked at him as if she recognized something, and it had made him feel very uncomfortable. He couldn't remember the last time something had made him uneasy, but he was slowly getting used to the unpredictable emotions that Victoria, more often than not, was able to arouse within him.

As he stood in the cold alleyway, all he could think about was the feel of her lips on his and her imperious voice telling him to get out of her head. Christian raked his hands through his hair. It had been a long time since he'd thought about self-preservation, but this was like nothing he had ever experienced—this feeling was like acid, eating away at his very essence. He'd never felt such terror or joy in equal abundance.

He closed his eyes, barely able to admit the truth to himself.

She was already in his blood.

VICTORIA SPENT THE next two weeks buried in midterms and trying to figure out how she could have possibly made such a mess of things. She hadn't seen Christian since the disaster in the bar. He'd either stopped rehearsing or he was careful to be at the music hall whenever she wasn't there. She'd found herself playing the Tchaikovsky piece more than once after rehearsal, hoping despite herself that he'd show up to partner her. But he never did.

Harland could have been on the other side of the state for all she saw of him. Victoria was certain it was deliberate. She didn't blame him one bit. She wanted to apologize for her appalling behavior but she didn't know what she would say if she did see him. As the days turned into weeks, eventually she stopped looking for him.