Blacker than Black by Rhi Etzweiler Read Free Book Online Page B

something toxic in his attitude, a residue I recall too vividly from that first evening. His words start to filter through my head. He thinks us criminals. And yet, I’m almost totally convinced he set out to manipulate us into this situation.
    I just can’t figure out why.
    The next john will drain you dry.
    Is it possible the vampires of the metro are that angry about our wealth of “crimes”? I find that hard to believe. Jhez and I, we’ve been doing this for years now. Close to two decades. And this is the first hint of even so much as a whisper that what we do is theft. Hell, I have some regulars that come find me at least once a month. And I pull the same stunt with them every time.
    He fiddles with the key, long fingers flipping it incessantly. Finally he extends the ring to me. “Two copies, one for each of you.”
    “Why are you doing this?” I really want to know. Chi-thieves on display for the benefit of his distinguished guests? I can’t buy that, unless he’s that desperate to save face.
    His yellow gaze widens, flicks over my features as if trying to read what I’m not saying. Then he relaxes and smiles away the question as he leans in toward me. “I have my reasons.”
    When I frown, the vampire reaches out and propels me past him with a hand planted on my back. “A vague question permits a vague answer, wouldn’t you say?” He whispers in my ear from behind, his breath against my skin triggering a shudder.
    I move away from him, his hand, and into the apartment. Infuriating vampire, playing with me like that. Never mind that his point is valid.

 
    The living space offers Jhez a myriad of new points of focus for her cleaning . . . hobby . . . obsession. I don’t see her, so she must be off poking into corners. I drop my duffel next to the plate glass coffee table and explore the couch, sitting down in the center of the brown velvet creation and bouncing to test its pliancy.
    Garthelle stands there watching me, hands tucked casually into his pockets. “Do you find it acceptable?” His voice carries a thread of amusement. It tangles in my nerve endings, confusing, disorienting.
    I stop bouncing, feeling a blush crawl up my neck. “It’s a nice place.” The couch isn’t as luxurious as the black one he has, which superimposes itself into my vision for a glitched moment, but it will tolerate our abuse well enough. I sit back, closing my eyes to focus on centering my chi. It’s the best way to ward off those . . . hallucinations. Energy-memories.
    When the couch sinks down to my left, I drape my forearms over my face to avoid further distraction. Persistent vamp that he is, Garthelle won’t keep his eyes off me; I feel them, an intangible caress, trailing over me.
    With an exasperated sigh, I lower my arms and sit up. “Don’t you have more pressing matters to occupy you?” A coup d’état to diffuse somewhere, perhaps? “When are your guests arriving?”
    He angles toward me, draping an arm along the back of the couch. His hand is inches away, and the faint scent of incense floats across the narrowing distance between us. The memories send a thread of tension through me.
    “They will begin arriving this evening. There was a slight shift in the itinerary, and I won’t be available to either of you as I intended. So I’m here now.”
    “I see.” I don’t see. I don’t understand at all. My brain, feeding on the olfactory stimulation, is becoming increasingly muddled. Where’s Jhez? Surely the flat isn’t so large that it would take this long to choose a bedroom and toss her duffel on the floor. Hell, mine didn’t even make it that far.
    Tension radiates from Garthelle, an assault crashing against my aura. He leans in toward me, fingers reaching up to rest on my chin. The pressure of his touch is insistent, forcing my gaze to meet his.
    “I feel it too.” His voice is husky, strained, his brow furrowed. “If it’s any consolation, it’s ten times more difficult for me to