Page 20 of Caller of Crows
Sven almost felt flattered until he remembered that his blood was a rare and valuable resource to the vampire. That was the only reason Altair cared about his health.
"You couldn't have asked someone else to watch over me?" Sven asked.
Altair shook his head. "Some tasks are too important to delegate." After he said that, he pushed the covers away and stood up. He was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, and the sight of his strong body made something inside Sven's chest tighten.
"You need to eat," he said as if he wasn't aware of the heat in Sven's gaze. He stepped away from the bed and moved toward the desk.
Sven followed him with his eyes, his gaze fixed on the vampire's naked skin. He couldn't help but admire Altair's firm muscles, and he cursed himself for it.
What if the vampire picked up on his thoughts?
Sven swallowed hard.
Maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing if Altair picked up on his thoughts. If there was still a chance to seduce him…
"That won't work," Altair said without facing him. "You were out of your mind yesterday. You could not keep a single thought to yourself."
Sven flushed.
Well.
That was fucking embarrassing.
Why did the vampire have to be a mind reader?
It wasn't fair.
Ignoring Sven, Altair picked up a small phone and made a call, asking for 'the mortal's food' to be brought to his room.
When the call ended, Altair put the phone back on the desk and turned around. "Breakfast will be here soon. And since I know you're wondering about your clothes, they're being washed. My recommendation would be for you to throw them away, however."
Sven's gaze narrowed at the vampire. "You want me to run around naked?" he asked before he could stop himself.
Altair huffed a laugh. "Your mind works in weird ways, mortal. I was merely suggesting you dress in nicer clothes rather than the rags you wore when you came here."
"Oh, are you going to give me money to pay for clothes?" Sven challenged. "Will you take me to a boutique so I can pick a fancy suit?"
"No," Altair said. "But we can order something for you."
"Why do you care what I'm wearing?" Sven grabbed the covers and drew them more tightly around himself.
"I thought you might feel more comfortable," the vampire said as if it wasn't weird for him to be taking Sven's feelings about anything into consideration. "It's not a necessity, of course."
Sven looked away and his jaw clenched.
He didn't want clothes from Altair.
He wanted to be turned.
Of course, Altair read that thought too. "I know about your mother." He said this almost casually as he turned to his dresser to pick out new clothes for himself. "She's sick, and you want to save her."
Sven's heart clenched.
He really was an open book to this vampire, wasn't he?
Altair put on a black shirt and buttoned it. "All mortals die," he said. "That's why we call you mortals."
Sven bristled. "You're not better than me. You used to be mortal once." On instinct, he grabbed the picture frame he'd looked at earlier. "I'm betting it wasn't even that long ago."
