A Girl's Guide to Vampires

He looked a bit mulish about my order until Christian turned his gaze on him. Henri blinked a few times, then backed away, bumping into several people, a large potted tree, and finally colliding with a small iron table that held the cash box for the beer garden. He didn't stop by the statue, however, he kept going. I figured I had only a couple of minutes before he found Raphael and tattled.

I squeezed Christian's hands until he looked back at me. "Christian, I'm so sorry you think I'm betraying you. I truly am, but we've gone over this and over this. I don't have the same feelings for you that you have for me. I just can't be what you want me to be, pure and simple." His fingers tightened around mine. "I know that's cruel of me, and selfish and self-serving, but it's the truth. I love Raphael. I will always love Raphael, and nothing and no one will change that. If you truly can share my emotions, you must know that I'm not deluding myself."

"I know that he has bewitched you, yes. You are fascinated with him, and he arouses you sexually as I do not, but it is apparent from the fact that you have not taken the final step of Joining that deep inside you know the truth."

My blush, which had started to die, was reborn with a vengeance at his mention of the attraction Raphael held for me.

"I feel your emotions, Beloved, feel the depth of your passion and know that the source of them cannot be anyone but myself. You are my Beloved. Because I know this, because I know that ultimately you will be mine, I am allowing you time to rid yourself of the affection you feel for St. John." His eyes were as cold and hard as the hematite rune stones. "It has not been easy for me, but my belief that you will see the truth is the only reason I have allowed another to possess you."

In hindsight, I guess I'd been around too many men that day telling me what I could and couldn't do. There is really no other explanation for what happened next.

"You know, this macho 'I will allow you' stuff is really starting to irritate me. I'm not a possession, Christian. I have a mind. I can make decisions on my own. And I've made it! Now, I like you. I'd like to count you as my friend. I've promised to help you find your Beloved"—I held up my hand to stop the objection I could see he was about to offer—"OK, your other Beloved. I know you don't think it's possible, but what's to stop there from being two women for you, huh? Me with my wires crossed, madly in love with Raphael instead of you, and some other poor woman out there who is your soul mate and doesn't know it. Regardless, as I was saying, I'd like to be your friend, but I swear to God, if you tell me ONE MORE TIME what your high-and-mighty self is allowing me to do, I'll belt you one right on the nose."

His eyes glinted dangerously at me for about three seconds before I was slammed up against his chest, his arms like iron around me. My mind was filled with his anger, his need to dominate and bend me to his will. I honestly don't know what might have happened if he had shown me the other side of his anguish, the desperate need for love and unbearable loneliness, but he didn't. Instead I was swamped with his belief that he had every right to take control of my life. "You… are… mine." His voice was like liquid metal, smooth and beautiful and hard with resolve. "You will always be mine."

He made his mistake then. He pushed me with his mind, actually tried to push me into admitting what he wanted to hear. The rebellious me screamed a war cry of defiance as I curled my fingers into a fist. His head leaned in to kiss me. I slammed my boot heel down on his foot, watching with satisfaction as he jerked back at the unexpected blow, his eyes opened wide with surprise. As I brought my foot up from his foot, I kneed him in the groin, then swung my fist forward and punched him in the nose as he doubled over in pain.

"Don't ever do that again," I yelled as he crumpled up. "My mind is my own! You are not allowed to force me to do ANYTHING!"

I stormed away from him, ignoring the stunned expressions on the faces of his staff as they watched their employer writhe on the ground, rubbing my knuckles and feeling extremely pleased with myself.

Until I remembered I wanted Christian to tackle reading Milos's mind for me.

"Well, hell," I snarled, shocking a white haired old man who had his arms full of tablecloths. "Sorry," I apologized, and did an about-face. I walked back to where Christian was being helped to his feet by the big burly guy. The guy looked like he might give me trouble until I made mean eyes at him; then he backed off enough so I could see Christian.

He wasn't clutching himself anymore, but he wasn't standing with his usual elegance, either.