Page 14 of Mostly Shattered

Limited?

Asshole.

Did he come here just to insult me?

“I remember everything. I remember your bloodstained fingers in the moonlight as I lay helpless on cobblestones.” I put my hands on my hips. “I remember the look on your face.”

“Waste not, want not.”

“So gentlemanly of you to help a kid out.” Sarcasm drips from my tone. My hands clench into tight fists. “Licking me while I’m dying on the ground.”

“Hardly dying. It was only a broken bone.” He counters. “You humans are always so dramatic.”

I’ve irritated him. Good.

“Humans are dramatic?” I can’t help the unamused laugh that escapes me. “Seriously? Supernaturals are the biggest drama queens in the?—”

“I came to your aid. George sent me away before I could do more. And I did notlickyou. I do not lick children. You were dazed, and I tasted your blood for poisons. When I came to the hospital, George said it was handled.”

Was he at the hospital after I broke my arm? I try to remember.

“What more would you have me do?” he asks. “Throw young Conrad off the balcony to avenge your fall? Though I wouldn’t have minded, seeing as your brother was?—”

“Okay, okay.” I hold up my hands to stop him. I don’t need Conrad pissed off—any more than he already is. “Just go away. My parents are in the formal living room. I’m sure they’re expecting you.”

He doesn’t leave.

I dare a glance at his face and ask in exasperation, “What do you want? Seriously, Costin, I’m kind of dealing with a lot at the moment and I don’t need whatever this interaction is. Can you just go away and leave me alone? Please.”

He doesn’t go. Instead, he scolds, “You think you’re the only one struggling with what you’ve lost. But we all have ghosts, Tamara.”

Ghosts? Does he know about Conrad?

I look around the room for my brother, not seeing him. But the threat of him lingers around me. It takes me a moment to realize the vampire speaks metaphorically and not of my dead brother.

My heart is racing from the rawness in his tone. It’s not exactly what he said, but it’s how he said it—like someone who understands loss all too well. His expression shifts before I can press him furtherabout it, and he becomes distant again. I wonder if he regrets revealing his much as he has. It’s the tiniest of cracks in his otherwise powerful demeanor, but he’s shown it to me, and he can’t take that back.

The knowledge that he is more than just a monster, something that I technically already know, makes me more vulnerable to him. I don’t want to sympathize with the vampire. And yet here I am.

“You’re…” He tilts his head. “You’re scared of me.”

“No,” I deny. It’s not convincing.

I don’t think it’s possible, but I feel like he leans closer. “You don’t trust me.”

I cross my arms over my chest in a protective gesture, if only to keep him from closing the distance completely. “Should I?”

He smirks. “Probably not. But you’re not backing away.”

I try to deflect the challenge in his gaze by saying, “Maybe I enjoy playing with fire.”

What the fuck? Did I just flirt with the vampire?

“Careful,” his voice drops in warning. “I’m not the kind of fire you can control.”

The words send a shiver through me, and I refuse to back away. I don’t want him to know the effect that he has on me. I remind myself that control is anillusion, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on to mine.

“This forcefulness in you is new. You’re irritated with me,” he reasons. “I spoke ill of your brother, and his death is recent. I am sure he had… qualities.”

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