Vampire Mine - Kerrelyn Sparks [29]
“Casimir.”
“Oh.” She stared across the room, her eyes unfocused as she pondered something. “Interesting.”
Connor shook his head slightly. Being a vampire was one thing, but God forbid he be boring.
She paced toward the fireplace, then skirted the far side of the couch, keeping her distance from him. “We know about Casimir. Zack has been delivering Casimir’s victims for centuries, and he hates him with a passion that is unbecoming to an angel. He’s been reprimanded several times for it.”
She paused in her pacing to glance at Connor. “We’re not supposed to interfere in human events. It might disrupt a human’s right to free will.”
He scoffed. “As if anyone would choose to be murdered by a vampire.”
“I questioned that myself.” She sighed. “But it only served to anger Zackriel. He was already in trouble for his own complaints and didn’t want any of his staff making him look worse.”
“God forbid,” Connor said dryly. He had no sympathy for the angel who had cruelly abused Marielle.
“But I thought I made a valid point,” she continued. “Since vampires are not exactly human, I believe angels should be allowed to interfere. Casimir and his kind are supposed to be dead. Their very existence is unnat—” She stopped with a wince.
“Unnatural?” Connor finished her sentence. “An accursed blight on humanity?”
Her face grew pale. “You are quick to condemn yourself.”
She was the one who’d called him unnatural. A Cheater. He felt stiff and cold down to the marrow in his bones. “You heard the demon. I’m on the list for hell.”
“Did you hear me? I told you demons are deceivers. You shouldn’t believe anything he told you.”
“I knew it long before he told me.”
“Why?” She stepped toward him. “What have you done to deserve hell?”
He narrowed his eyes. First the priest had wanted to know, and now an angel, but he would never confess. “I’m a vampire. Is that no’ enough?”
“Is it?”
Bloody hell, he didn’t know. Father Andrew was always preaching that they were still the children of God. Connor figured there was hope for Vamps like Roman, but not for him. He was doomed, with no one to blame but himself.
And he should never have tainted someone as good and pure as Marielle. “I apologize for . . . touching you. I had no right.”
She started pacing again and went around the dinette set before heading back to the couch. She halted and rested her hands on the back of the couch where an Indian blanket rested.
She traced the design with her fingers. “I don’t think you need to apologize. You didn’t force me.”
“Ye’re innocent in the ways of the flesh. I took advantage of that.”
She glanced his way and arched an eyebrow. “Then I stand corrected. You sorely abused me.”
He flinched as if she’d thrust a spear through his heart. He shut his eyes briefly, willing the icy cold inside him to spread out and freeze the pain. “Aye.” It was all he could manage to say.
Weariness dragged at him, sapping away his strength. He strode to the refrigerator, pulled out a bottle of synthetic blood, and shoved it into the microwave.
“What is that?” She moved closer.
“Food.” He shot her an annoyed look. “Blood. If I doona drink it from a bottle, I might steal it from you.”
“Would you?”
He’d rather die. “I’ve taken blood from others. Thousands of people. I’ve been around for centuries.”
She rested her elbows on the breakfast bar and watched him. “I’m feeling a bit . . . disgusted.”
That hurt. “I’m sure ye are.” He grabbed the bottle from the microwave and guzzled down some blood.
“When’s the last time you bit someone?”
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “What does it matter?”
“Was it last night?”
“Nay.”
“Last year?”
He paused, wondering what she was up to. “No.” He finished the bottle and set it in the kitchen sink.
She perched on one of the barstools. “As a Deliverer, whenever I touched the dead or dying, their entire lives would unfold before me. I would see everything.” She tapped her fingers on the countertop. “Most people spend their lives trying to do right, but not everyone. I have seen some dreadful things.”
“Did