Page 48 of Caller of Crows
"Thanks." Sven took the tray from him and set it down on the couch. His stomach was churning, and the smell of the food made him sick.
Keegan looked at him, concern showing in his eyes. "Is everything okay?"
"I'm fine," Sven lied because he didn't trust the red-haired vampire enough to pour his heart out to him. The less anyone heard about how much of a fool Sven had made of himself with Altair, the better.
"You don't look fine."
"It's not your problem, anyway," Sven snapped because he didn't want to deal with Keegan's inquisitive stare.
Keegan looked around the room, almost as if he was searching for something. Sven didn't find anything when he followed the vampire's gaze, but he noticed the absence of something. There was no crow in the room with them. No one was watching them.
Sven wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. While he loved having a modicum of privacy… what if Keegan attacked him like that unknown vampire had tried out in the hall? Altair wouldn't be rushing in to save him this time.
Sven's fists clenched at his sides.
When had he started thinking of Altair as his savior?
He didn't need anyone to watch over him.
Keegan walked to one of the armchairs in the corner of the room and sat in it, and then he gestured for Sven to take the seat opposite him. Sven hesitated, but Keegan seemed relaxed and harmless, so he relented, taking the offered seat.
"You shouldn't let Altair get to you," Keegan said.
Sven's heart skipped a beat.
Did Keegan know what had happened?
"You can't win with him," the red-haired vampire continued. "Especially not if what you're trying to win is his heart."
Sven suppressed the urge to squirm under the vampire's gaze.
"I don't see why you'd care," he muttered. "If I was trying to do that, which I'm not."
"Alt is not the kind of person anyone should want." Keegan's voice was serious. Too serious for Sven's comfort. "He's cruel and cold, and uncaring."
Sven snorted. "Tell me something I don't know." Altair was all of that, and yet… Sven couldn't deny that the vampire had shown some softer sides, too. Altair had taken care of him when he'd fainted, and he'd killed that vampire who'd threatened Sven. All in the name of protecting his assets, maybe, but he'd also let Sven contact his mother when he'd stood nothing to gain from that—except for an opportunity to touch Sven inappropriately.
Altair had also given him those books and movies to keep him entertained. Sven glanced at the collection and couldn't help but feel like he was grasping at straws.
Why was he trying to make a case for Altair?
The vampire might have done some vaguely nice things, but he wasn't giving Sven what he really needed.
He looked back at Keegan, remembering their first conversation. "Aren't you supposed to be his friend? His family?"
Keegan sighed, a look of genuine sadness crossing his features. "Yes, but Alt has lost himself. He's not who he was."
Sven studied Keegan, trying to figure him out. Was the redhead manipulating him? "Let me guess," Sven said. "This has something to do with the fact that Altair killed your sire."
Keegan shook his head. "Maybe. Who can tell? He started changing before all of that."
"When did he turn into the villain you describe, then?" Sven challenged. Maybe this wasn't a conversation he should be having with Keegan, but right now, his curiosity wouldn't let him stop. The more he knew about Altair, the easier it would be for him to find a way to change the vampire's mind.
Keegan didn't respond immediately. Instead, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his eyes boring into Sven's.
"Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?" Keegan asked. "Because I can show you."
"Show me?"
