Page 50 of Caller of Crows
Keegan's eyes darkened. "All the stories in the world won't change that she is dead and that he killed her." He paused. "But I find it very interesting that your first reaction to this truth is to deny it. Why are you trying to defend the vampire who's taken you prisoner to sell your blood?"
"I'm not defending him," Sven protested, his heartbeat picking up.
"Really? Because it sounds like exactly what you're doing."
Sven averted his gaze. Fuck. Keegan was right. He shouldn't be making excuses for Altair.
"Alt is dangerous," Keegan insisted. "You shouldn't trust him."
"What would you have me do, then?" Sven challenged.
"Leave. Escape. Get the hell away from this place before Alt hurts you, too."
Sven didn't know how to respond. Was Keegan offering to help him escape again? Sven pinched the bridge of his nose. How could he trust the vampire?
"Don't say anything," Keegan relieved Sven of his duty to reply. "I know you're not ready to leave, but I want you to know that the option is there. I want you to think about it." He rose from his chair and gestured at the tray of food which Sven had completely forgotten about. "I'll leave you to enjoy your meal." With those words, the red-haired vampire was gone.
Sven was left in the bedroom by himself, his mind reeling with everything he'd just seen and everything Keegan had told him.
The vision of the woman's death was burned into his retinas, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop seeing her.
Would that behisfate as well?
ChapterFifteen
Altair did his best to stay busy after his conversation with Sven, after he'd turned down the mortal's request another time. Why could Sven not understand that this wasn't an issue Altair would budge on?
It was only because Sven had too little experience with these things, and because he wasn't thinking clearly. His concern for his mother overruled his rational mind and every self-preserving instinct he had, obviously.
Altair settled in one of the guest rooms to sleep for the day. Come nightfall, he went into his office and tackled the paperwork he'd been ignoring for the last little while. All because he'd been too obsessed with the mortal. Even now, his thoughts kept wandering, returning inevitably to Sven. The way he'd looked at him with tears shining in his eyes, so desperate for Altair tohelphim.
As if Altair could ever save anyone.
That wasn't who he was. He was a vampire.
A ruthless killer.
EverythingSven did not deserve.
When Mordyn walked in, Altair was glad for the distraction.
"You're awake already," the other vampire greeted him.
"Yes."
"Busy?"
"Always." Altair set his stack of paperwork aside, regardless. "Have you found a buyer?"
"Maybe," Mordyn hedged. "But the price isn't as high as we'd hoped."
Altair didn't like the sound of that. If he was going to sell Sven's blood, he at least wanted to be compensated fairly for it. If not, what was he doing all of this for?
Feeling a headache coming, he rubbed his temple.
"Sorry," Mordyn said, although he didn't look all that sorry. "Not what you want to hear, I know, but it's the best I could do with the situation as it is." He slid a piece of paper over to Altair. "That's the highest offer I received, and I had to dance for it, so you better appreciate it."
Altair stared at his friend with a blank expression. "You danced?"
