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worrying over him. How d he do?
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 Fine. I sat at the table, apologizing for the loud scrape the chair made against the floor.
 Don t worry about waking her up, she sleeps like the dead. At least, like the dead who aren t currently
possessed. Max winked at me as he set the kettle on the burner.  Did you get any sleep?
 None at all. So, what s going on with you and Bella? At his pointed look, I raised my hands helplessly.
 I m sorry, I m a doctor. We re supposed to ask questions.
 About people s personal life? He raised an eyebrow.
Squirming under his knowing gaze, I shrugged.  Sometimes.
 You re not that kind of doctor.
 And what kind of doctor is that? For a second I thought he d respond with a smart-assed answer
about venereal disease.
Instead, he took the other chair and rested his big forearms on the cracked Formica tabletop.  A head
doctor. A shrink. Just admit you have a case of nosy frienditis.
 Fine. I have a case of nosy frienditis. Now answer the question. It wasn t a command, but gentle
urging.
Something was warring inside Max. I could see it in his boyish, blue eyes. He sighed and leaned back in
his chair.  I have no idea. One minute we hated each other, the next I m finding her split open like an
overcooked hot dog. I bring her back here and bam, we re all involved.
 That must have hurt for her, I observed sagely.
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He gave me a look that suggested I keep my mouth shut lest I enrage him further.  It wasn t like that. I
had to finished stitching up her wounds first. Thank God you have so many boring medical books.
 I live to serve. I drew patterns on the table with my fingertip, trying to figure out a way to delicately
phrase my next question.  So& does this mean you re& her mate or something?
 Well, we did  mate, so to speak. And I owe you guys for some broken dishes 
 Yikes.
 Yeah. He shook his head.  The thing is, she thinks I m in love with her.
 I take it you re not? I chuckled.  Max, you could save yourself a lot of trouble if you just kept your
pants zipped.
 It s not like that, this time. She thinks I love her, and she doesn t love me, so she thinks she s hurting
my feelings or something. The teakettle s whistle sputtered, and Max jumped up to turn off the burner.
Once blood boils, it burns, making for an unpleasant, scorched-pot-roast taste.
 Well, you ve really got no problem then, right? I moved past him to snag a couple mugs.  If neither of
you love each other, then you re free and clear.
 And she walks away thinking she dumped me? He swore, though I couldn t tell if it was at the idea of
being rejected by another sentient being, or if he d made contact with a hot part of the kettle.
 Is that the worst thing in the world? I knew Max had a major pride problem, but I hadn t realized it
went so deep.
He poured the blood into the mugs and set the remainder on the back burner. I assumed he left that
portion for Nathan, and his thoughtfulness brought unexpected tears to my eyes. I quickly shooed them
away, blaming my overemotional state on the fact I hadn t had any sleep.
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 It s not the worst, Max conceded as he returned to the table with our breakfast.  But it s not good. I
got a rep to uphold.
I reached across the table to slap him lightly on the shoulder. He laughed, but the levity was brief.
 Besides, I couldn t be with her permanently. I think of that, then I think about Marcus 
 Your old sire? I asked for clarity.
He gave an affirmative nod.  I think about the fact that he s gone, and all I ve been carrying around is
this yearning for him, wanting to feel what I felt with him. You know, in a totally not gay way. But then I
think, wow, love. That s a thing I have no power over, and it might feel good to know I m not alone, and
it s like I m betraying him.
 You re not betraying him by moving on. I spoke so vehemently the sound of my own voice startled
me. Embarrassed, I cleared my throat and continued more softly.  What is it with you men, you think you
have to hang on to everything.
 What do you mean? He took a swallow of blood, his eyes meeting mine in a silent question over the
rim of the mug.
 You know exactly what I mean. And if not all the details, well, it wasn t my place to spill Nathan s
personal beans.  Nathan thinks he has to carry around a sack load of guilt over Marianne, and because
of that, he can t just get over it. You re doing the same thing. Your guilt over the way your sire died is so
precious to you, you refuse to give it up for even a second in case you might actually get over it and move
on.
 You should have been a head doctor, Max said in a way that didn t quite sound like a compliment.
We sat in silence, sipping our breakfast and doing our best to ignore the conversation we d just had.
Occasionally, Max would look up at some imagined sound from the living room, but when Bella didn t
appear he settled down in a disappointed funk.
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I thought he was imagining things again when he swore and shot up from the table, nearly toppling it as
he tore from the kitchen.  What are you doing? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]