Page 15 of The Second Sight
“I’m sorry I frightened you,” I said, watching her eyes widen at the sudden change in my demeanor. “That wasn’t my intention.”
She remained pressed against the wall, but I noticed her shoulders drop a fraction. Her breathing slowed. Good.
“I won’t hurt you,” I continued, maintaining the soothing cadence. “I promise.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. Skepticism. Smart girl. “You were drinking that woman’s blood,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “In the bathroom stall.”
I nodded, seeing no point in denial. “I told you. I’m a vampire. That’s what we do.” I kept my tone matter of fact, conversational. “She wasn’t harmed. I was just feeding. I told you that.”
“You expect me to believe you?” Her voice was stronger now, indignation momentarily overriding her fear. “You have blood all over your face.”
“I was interrupted,” I replied with a small shrug. “By you. It’s normally a much cleaner process.” I released her wrist but kept my other hand on her shoulder, firm but not painful. “The point is, she’s alive and well enough. I don’t kill when I feed. It’s unnecessary and draws unwanted attention. If you wouldn’t have been a peeping Tom, I wouldn’t have dropped her on the disgusting restroom floor. Her headache is basically your fault.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Well, the way I see it. We both are to blame. Fifty-fifty.”
Despite her obvious disbelief, I could see her listening and actually processing my words. I was penetrating her defenses, making her receptive even against her better judgment. Her eyes remained fixed on mine.
“What are you?” I asked abruptly, changing direction. “A witch? A seer? You must be something to see through the magic.”
Her brow furrowed in genuine confusion. “I told you. I’m not anything. I’m just a person.”
“Impossible,” I countered, my fingers moving from her shoulder to the curve of her neck in a gesture both threatening and intimate. I felt her pulse jump beneath my fingertips. “No ordinary human could have seen what you saw tonight. No ordinary human could use those glasses. They’re magically crafted. That item is meant only for those with supernatural blood.”
“I don’t have supernatural blood,” she insisted, shaking her head emphatically. “I’m not a witch or whatever else you think I am. I’m just a college student.”
I studied her face carefully, searching for the lie. But there was none. She truly believed what she was saying. Either shewas unaware of her nature, or she was something entirely new to me. After four centuries of existence, there wasn’t much I hadn’t encountered.
Even her scent was unusual. Not quite human, but nothing I recognized either. There was something old about it. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was...
No, that was impossible. The Fae had withdrawn from this realm centuries ago, after the Great Burning. None remained. None could stay in this realm. I haven’t seen one in more than two hundred years.
Yet here she stood, wearing a face so like my one true love, Basirah, it made my dead heart ache. This girl could see through a witch’s cloak, and she had a scent that whispered of ancient magic.
“FYI, I would never kill someone as beautiful as you,” I said, the words escaping before I could consider them. They were true, though not for the reasons she might assume. I couldn’t harm this young girl, who wore my dead wife’s face, no matter what threat she might pose. My thumb brushed across her cheek, tracing the line of her cheekbone. “I just want to understand how you could see me drinking blood. How you could see through the veil no human should penetrate.”
Her heart pounded in her chest, the sound filling my sensitive ears. It wasn’t just fear anymore. There was something else there, a flutter of interest? Attraction? The response was unconscious, but human pheromones always gave them away. Clearly, a part of this beauty was human, but there was another part that was something else.
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice steadier than before. Her honey-colored eyes dropped to my mouth before quickly returning to my eyes. “I don’t have an answer.”
“What’s your name?” I asked suddenly. “You know mine. It’s only fair.”
“Kasi.”
“Do you mean Kasinda?”
Her eyes widened. I could see her trying desperately to figure out how I knew her full first name.
“Yes, Kasinda. Do you already know my last name?”
“Maybe, but I prefer you to give it to me willingly.”
“Bacchar, Kasinda Bacchar.”
“Lovely name.” Her name rolled off my tongue quite effortlessly.
“Can you read my mind?”
