We tend to stay away from your kind. Humans are unpredictable at best,â Soren explained, his focused stare glued on the road.
âThen why do you live in Paris?â
The car was creeping to an intersection. What the heck was he doing?
âI donât exactly live in Paris. We have to feed, and weâve a better chance of being forgotten if we take what we need from tourists. Tourists get a thrill and we get the nourishment our bodies require for proper healing. This is the city of love, after all,â he said in a tight voice.
âSo you romance them, suck their blood, and then leave? Good God, no matter what species they are, men are pigs.â
âYou wonât hear an argument from any one of them,â he said, taking the car carefully around a corner.
âHey, Iâm arguing here.â She waved her hands at him, but he didnât look away from the road.
âYes, but if I romanced you, youâd change your mind.â
âRight, let me just scoot over and make room for your male ego,â she said, fixing her gaze out the window.
What would it be like if he romanced her? Sheâd never been truly romanced, at least not by her standards. Could she hold her ground? She watched him from the corner of her eye.
Not a chance. With him, she might as well throw in the towel from the beginning. He was handsome, in a refined manner, and considerate. Heâd held the car door open for her. Okay, so heâd shoved her in after he opened the door, but still, he got two points for the effort. And another two points for those muscles.
She liked the way he made her safety his personal mission. When heâd let his inner barbarian free to kill the demon with his bare hands, she hadnât been afraid for herself.
Traveling in silence, the scenery passed at a slow pace. He drove like a grandpa with his hands precisely at ten and two, hunched over the wheel as if reading some fine print on the windshield.
She stifled a giggle, disguising it with a cough.
He couldnât have been going over forty miles per hour. Better than walking, but nearly a joke when behind the wheel. With no other cars in sight and the city far behind, driving still seemed quite the feat for him. His white fingers wrapped around the wheel tenaciously. Poor guy.
This was the first touch of insecurity she had seen from the vampire, and it wasnât much. He remained in complete, slow control. âDo you want me to drive?â
âNo,â he said sharply.
She didnât try again. He could have his macho trip, and burst a blood vessel in the process. His call. At this speed she would have plenty of time to relax.
Chapter 4
Soren left the car at the edge of a dense forest, and led her to the entrance of a very narrow path hidden in the trees. He pushed through the thick foliage ahead of her, clearing a crude trail. They stepped over trees, some fallen, while the roots of others reached above the ground. This entrance must not be used often.
âI thought we werenât going to walk,â she complained as she pushed another branch away from her face.
âItâs not a long walk,â Soren said, weaving around a sapling that almost reached his height. âYouâre keeping up fine.â
âI know I can keep up, Iâm just worried creepy things are lurking in the forest.â She copied him, dodging the tiny tree.
âThere are no demons here, I promise you.â
âI meant spiders, but thank you. Now I canât decide which is worse, eight legs or red eyes.â The hairs on her nape prickled as if something followed her, and she quickly closed the gap between them.
He laughed quietly at her sudden skittishness. âLike I said, there are no demons here.â
The trees thinned, and as the path ended, Soren stopped. Down a gradually sloping hill ahead of them lay an old chateau. This was not her idea of a vacation hot spot. The chateau had no aesthetic
Barbara Davilman, Ellis Weiner