Page 77 of Caller of Crows
Altair sighed. "I can't take the risk. Someone attacked us tonight because they wantyou,and you'll be an easy target out there."
Sven's expression darkened even further. "So I'm just supposed to hide from the world forever?"
Altair stared at him steadily. "You'll never be safe as long as you're mortal."
Sven looked at him for a long moment, and then he huffed an unamused laugh. "So you're telling me this is another one of those issues that would be solved if you just turned me."
Altair never took his eyes off Sven. "Do you want me to turn you right now?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. The mortal's mind was torn on the issue. Altair understood that.
The problem was thatSvendidn't.
And so the mortal glared angrily at his food.
And Altair couldn't help him.
ChapterTwenty
When had things become so complicated?
Sven had come to this coven with a simple goal: get himself turned, save his mom, worry about the rest later. He'd figured whatever the consequences of his actions might be, they could never be as bad as losing his mother, so he hadn't thought much farther ahead than saving her.
The issue was that his plan had failed, and now he sat here, at a vampire nightclub, unsure what to do with himself.
Altair had moved to another table to talk business with a brunette vampire Sven didn't recognize but who'd introduced herself as Sheila. Sven didn't mind that Altair was busy. At least that gave him room to organize his thoughts.
He looked around the club once more, trying to distract himself from the grief gnawing at his chest. It didn't really work. He was surrounded by the undead, creatures that lived on the blood of the living, who would never die the way his mother had. Who would never be able to truly understand what Sven was going through.
His gaze fell on the blood stain on the wall again, and he grimaced, looking away. Maybe he shouldn't judge the vampires so harshly. They didn't die naturally, but they could still die.
Like Altair's mate had died.
Sven's gaze found the vampire who'd become his whole world in such a short time, and wondered what exactly he felt for the immortal, and if he even stood a chance of finding happiness with him.
He didn't understand how Altair could be the way he was, so cold and unfeeling, and then suddenly turn around and display compassion and warmth toward him. It confused Sven, and yet, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Couldn't stop thinking about the vampire, period.
"I care about you," Altair had said. The words echoed in Sven's mind, cutting through the fog of grief and confusion like a bright ray of hope. If those words were true…
"Whatcha doing?"
Sven flinched when Mordyn sat down next to him without warning. "Thinking," he replied, watching the other vampire warily.
"About?"
"None of your business."
Mordyn raised an eyebrow at him, and Sven immediately felt bad for his rude response. He didn't know Mordyn well, true, but that was no reason to be a jerk to the guy. "Sorry," he said. He sighed and looked down at his hands on the counter. "I just had a rough night."
"I can imagine," Mordyn said, sounding sincere. "I heard about your mom. Sorry about that."
"Yeah." Sven's throat constricted, making it hard to breathe. Tears stung his eyes but he forced himself not to think about his mom or about the way she would always make the most terrible jokes to cheer him up when he was upset.
Even though they both knew he only laughed at how dumb the jokes were and how bad she was at telling them.
It always worked.
"So," Mordyn said.
Sven glanced at him, blinking the tears from his vision. He noticed that the other vampires were still sitting at their table, seemingly engrossed in conversation, while Mordyn had come over here. He appreciated the privacy. "So what?" he asked, forcing himself to focus on what Mordyn was saying.
