Bloodspell (33 page)

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Authors: Amalie Howard

BOOK: Bloodspell
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She went to class but could barely concentrate, and slipped out in the last ten minutes, running toward her car. Victoria floored it to Christian's house and made it there faster then she had ever driven, skidding to a stop at the top of the driveway.

The front door was unlocked as it always was and she went right in, letting her mind open in search of him. The house was empty. She opened her awareness and detected movement in the underground garage.

As she made her way there, her cell phone rang. The caller ID said it was Gabriel. She thought about ignoring it, but knew that he would keep calling her over the next hour like a stalker until she called him back. It would be easier to get rid of him if she answered. She clicked on the phone.

"Hi, Gabriel."

"Hey Tori, where are you? I waited for you after class and noticed your Mini was gone. So I swung by your place and you're not there ... where are you?" Victoria detected a slight edge in his voice but had no time to sugarcoat.

"Stalk much? Look Gabe, sorry I bailed, but I had to run an errand."

"So are you going to come to Cancun? Come on, Tori, it will be great."

"I really can't, Gabe. I would but I'm swamped right now," she said as she tried to find the door leading to the garage.

"Fine, I'll stay here too then," he said. Victoria knew that he would stay just to prove a point.

"I'm on my way up to my Aunt Holly's," she said. "Look, I have to go, talk later. See you, Gabe."

She disconnected the call before he could argue and hoped that he wouldn't do anything stupid like drive up to Holly's. Finally, she found the mahogany door to the elevator that lead down to the garage.

Christian's garage was more like an underground warehouse with huge high ceilings, fluorescent lighting, and about ten cars, several bikes, and a wicked-looking cigarette boat on a trailer, all lined up in neat rows. Christian was standing next to the '67 Shelby GT 500 that he'd told her he was restoring himself. He had on a pair of faded blue jeans, smudges of grease on his face and hands, and he'd never looked more appealing. She steeled herself as he walked toward her, his face shuttered and demeanor wary, like a goaded lion. Victoria swallowed, unexpectedly anxious. Maybe this hadn't been the best idea.

"What do you want?" he said, his voice cold. At his tone, she lifted her chin.

"You wouldn't let me explain, so I had to find you."

"Explain what? There's really nothing to say, is there?" She flinched from the emptiness in his words.

"Christian, I know what you thought you saw, but it was nothing."

"Is that what you call it? He was going to kiss you."

"No, it's not what you think," she said, and then added, "besides what does it matter? We broke up, didn't we?"

"You're right. So
why
are you here, Victoria?" She stared at him to see if his eyes were as unfeeling as his words were. They were worse.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come," she said, fleeing before the tears came.

Victoria drove back to her apartment, her fingers clenched in humiliation on the steering wheel. What was she thinking, going to Christian's house like that? They were over—she didn't owe him anything! The way he had looked at her, as if she were nothing, had hurt her far more than she'd ever thought possible. She screeched to a stop in front of her apartment, only just noticing the lanky frame leaning against the wall as she got out of the car.

"Did you
run
over here?" she asked, her heart racing at the sight of him. She steeled herself, guarding her mind ... and heart. Christian's face was pained.

"Victoria, I'm sorry. I handled that badly. I was just ... surprised by your visit, that's all."

"Look, it's nothing. I wanted to explain, but you're right, there's really nothing to say, is there? We're over."

After several agonizing moments, he spoke, his voice carefully modulated. "Yes, we are, and I'm sorry I reacted the way I did. You have every right to be with someone like you, someone ... human," he said. "Someone you can hold and love without fearing for your life. Like him." She remained silent. "You should be worrying about school and parties and dates, not whether some monster is going to rip your throat out." Victoria flinched even as he continued. "You've moved on, and that's good."

The rational, sane part of her agreed with him, the reasons why they shouldn't be together were obvious—he was as much a danger to her as she was to him, and she'd nearly killed him when they'd been together last. Yet at his words, something inside Victoria cracked.

"That's just it, I
haven't
moved on," she cried, everything she'd been holding in suddenly exploding within her. "I haven't been able to let you go, even though God knows I have tried. And I hate you for doing this, for making me this ...
weak
."

"Victoria—"

"Please, don't."

Victoria.

Christian couldn't help himself. Her stunning admission crippled any resolve he'd had. He caught her shoulders and pulled her to him taking her lips in a desperate kiss. She couldn't help herself either, kissing him back with everything she'd boxed away in her heart, every single bit of emotion she'd suppressed since they day she had left his house. The kiss decimated her.

Victoria broke away, gasping.
What was she doing?

"Please," she whispered, "just go."

With a searching look Christian left, and she almost collapsed against the building. She touched a finger to her burning lips. Her mind and body felt like two separate things. She couldn't even begin to process the feelings Christian's kiss had kindled. Her brain spun with dizzying intensity as forgotten emotions threatened to overwhelm her. Seeing him had been torture. Kissing him had been excruciating.

Suddenly across the street, movement caught her eye as a person stepped away from a dark car parked in the shadows. Victoria tensed, her body already preparing for attack, as the stranger's features became clearer in the light. Her stomach flipped and soured immediately.

"Oh, hi Gabe," she said, wondering just how long he had been there. Gabriel's face was cold, his normally open smile was grimly absent and his lips were a hard, flat line. He'd been there a while, she guessed.

"I thought you were going to Holly's?" he said.

"Gabe—"

"Don't Gabe me," he said. "I
saw
you! I saw you with him! Devereux." His eyes were twin discs of ice. "Is he your boyfriend?"

"No. Not my boyfriend," she said, conscious of being cornered near the narrow doorway. She had never seen Gabriel this upset and a hollow feeling started to spread in her stomach in response to his ominous tone.

"So what is he then that you can kiss him so ... passionately?" Gabriel said. "Or do you kiss everyone like that?"

"No, he is ... was a friend ..." she said her voice shaking then trailing off at the vicious glare he sent her way. "Gabriel, I don't know what you want me to say."

"Devereux
?" he hissed. "Is that why you got so weird earlier?" Victoria flushed and stared at the ground, and the silent admission of guilt seemed to make Gabriel even more incensed. "I changed everything for
you.
And you're with
him
? And you lie about it to my face!"

He was right in front of her, his face dark and menacing and for the first time since she had known him, Victoria felt afraid, as if he could really hurt her without thinking twice about it. The corrosive hatred that she usually saw directed toward Angie was now directed toward her in unbridled measure.

"Gabe, please," she said. "I'm not with anyone. I have always told you—"

"Told me what? That you're just 'not in a dating mode right now?'" His laugh was bitter. "Obviously you are, just not with me, right?"

"Come on, Gabriel, you're my friend, you know that."

"Friend? Is Devereux just your friend or is he a friend with benefits? Or does he just take what he wants? Is that what you like, Tori?" he said, as he ran his fingers down the side of her face. Victoria flinched, her heart in her throat. She didn't want to have to hurt Gabriel, after all he had just seen her kissing someone else, but if he threatened her, she would have no choice. His hands slid down her jaw and closed around her neck slowly. His eyes were full of malice and every muscle in his body was coiled as tight as a spring. He wanted to punish her; she could see it in his eyes.

"Gabriel, you're hurting me." Her hands clawed against the fingers holding her neck in an unyielding grip. "Stop it, please."

Gabriel's hand seemed to tighten of its own volition as his face darkened in response to her pleading, daring her to take matters into her own hands. Just as she was drawing upon the energy to free herself, his grip slackened, and she ripped his hand off her neck, shoving his chest with both hands. He staggered back a few feet, but what scared her most wasn't the expression on his face after she had pushed him, it was the way he looked at her, as if she were nothing, as if she no longer
existed.

Gabriel backed away slowly watching her with open loathing before he abruptly turned toward his car. Without a backward glance he jumped in and sped away, the tires screeching in protest against the asphalt and leaving black tracks in their wake.

Victoria slid down the side of the wall, her body shaking from the shock of the confrontation. That was something she had
never
expected, not from Gabriel of all people. His cold, almost inhuman rage had scared her. The virulent look in his eyes had chilled her to the bone, leaving her with little reservation about how he felt about her. She shivered remembering the look on his face as he had walked away. Hate barely did it justice.

He despised her.

VICTORIA DIDN'T GET out of bed even though the sun was streaming through the windows and she knew it was mid-morning. She buried her head under the covers, giving in to the only sanctuary she had left.

She opened bleary eyes several hours later as Tony left a desperate-sounding message on her answering machine, checking to see if she could work an emergency shift that night. She squinted at her watch, it was three in the afternoon, and as much as she wanted to, she knew she couldn't stay in bed forever.

At least at the Black Dog she'd be able to distract herself and not focus on what had happened with Gabriel or with Christian. She showered and dressed, missing Leto terribly. His gift for comfort would have been useful, but they hadn't exactly been on the best of terms since he'd found out about Christian. She'd been the one to suggest that they take a break and he stay at Holly's. She concentrated on healing, taking slow long breaths as she dressed, wishing fervently that she could just go back to bed instead.

Tony gave her a grateful smile when she arrived. The Dog was short-staffed again, but it wasn't too crowded, she noticed thankfully, as she hopped behind the bar. Her stomach sank as she registered who was in the far right corner. Seriously, if she had noticed his car out front, she wouldn't have thought twice about calling Tony from the parking lot and canceling. But she knew that she couldn't leave him stranded now that she was already here. Victoria bit her lip and put her head down. She had a job to do.

She tried to pass the time joking with the other people in the bar as best as she could, but she couldn't shake the sour, sick feeling that rested in her stomach. Every time she heard the loud laughter from that corner, she had to force herself to not look in that direction. Even Tony noticed that she wasn't her usual jovial self and came over to ask her if she was all right.

"I'm fine, just a little stomach bug I think," she said. "Don't worry. I'll still be able to help you out."

Distracted by his parting comment about his special cure for stomach bugs involving Jagermeister, a loud peal of laughter drew her attention and her eyes flicked over automatically. They locked with a pair of cold black ones and her heart froze in her chest at the hatred she saw reflected there. She couldn't pull away from Gabriel's stare, and in slow motion she watched him pull a willing Charla onto his lap and kiss her, all while staring at Victoria.

It was ugly, sordid. She felt sick, her breath coming in short silent gasps—she could
feel
his lips on hers, the violence of them grinding into hers, bruising and punishing. He smiled.

Victoria dragged her eyes away with considerable difficulty, grasping the top of the bar for support, as she felt curiously weak and almost drained from the effort it had taken to pull away. Black spots danced in her head. She sank to the floor, assuming that it was stress from the shock of yesterday's confrontation with him. Without warning, a wave of nausea overcame her. She started retching as she ran for the employee's bathroom. She splashed some water on her face and heard the door open as she wiped her face with some paper towel.

"I'm fine, Tony, just need five minutes," she said, not bothering to look up.

"Really? I wouldn't quite say that you're fine."

Victoria's head snapped up warily. She didn't know how much more she could take before she cracked. She gritted her teeth and swallowed, her throat dry.

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