Page 149 of Vampire so Virtuous
“You told me that before.”
He made a soft sound, as if to himself. “Well. You are strong.”
He’d called her beautiful, too.
“I can’t believe you called me aggravating.” She rolled her eyes. “In comparison toyou? Pot calling kettle, color check, over?”
He frowned in confusion. “Color check? What do you mean?”
She looked back out the window. “Never mind.”
“I called you a number of things,” Antoine said, as he pulled an illegal overtaking maneuver at speed around a pickup truck, the irritated blast of its horn fading in their wake. “But I’ve had time to think of more. You are also mesmerizing, passionate, utterly fearless, alluring, and impossible to ignore,ma chérie.”
“You’re still a jerk.” But it was nice to hear him say those things. Strangely comforting.
He chuckled. “It is a mystery, though. Your witch blood. I wish there were someone I could ask about it.”
“Seriously, do you vamps not keep libraries? Records? Ancient tomes bound in human skin? Recipes for which blood types go best with which cheese?”
“Not really, and they would only be personal collections, if at all. Not something to which you can apply for a library card.” He turned into Quint Avenue. “Radcliffe Road, correct?”
“How do you know where I live?” She gave a bitter laugh. “Of course. Your thralls told you.”
“Indeed,ma chérie.What number, please?”
“You don’t know the apartment block?”
“I could ask Noah if you don’t wish to tell me.”
“Go on then. He’s about five miles behind us.”
“He’s less than a mile behind us, and he says it’s number twenty, at the end of the street.” He turned into Radcliffe Road, the Lamborghini bouncing uncomfortably over the potholes.
“How did you do that?” she asked. “Can you talk to Noah whenever you want?”
“I can talk to my thralls whenever I wish, though there are some limits on the range.” His eyes flicked to her. “We have no secrets now.”
She stared at him. “He’s a mile away. You call that a limit?”
“I’ve managed three or four times that. I don’t actually know what the limit is.”
She kept staring. “It’s… it’s…”
“Magic?” Antoine said. “Welcome to my world.”
He pulled up in a numbered parking bay, uncaring whose it was, and peered dubiously out of the window at Cally’s apartment. “I am not sure a Lamborghini often takes this space.”
“I doubt anyone will manage to steal it while you’re sitting in it.”
She opened her door, climbing out, but he got out too.
“No way you’re coming up.”
“I am not leaving you alone,ma chérie.” Then he turned, deliberately walking the short distance to the main entrance porch.
Cally slammed the car door and glared at him, but it was wasted—he didn’t look back.
And he wassteaming. Like actualsteamdrifting up from his coat and head.
