“Did it get rid of the location thing?” I blurted, mentally crossing my fingers.
Kyros scowled. “Developments between us aren’t erased, merely added to.”
Fucking great.
I plonked down on the sofa at last, eyeing the blasted décor pinecone again.
Nope. Couldn’t handle it being here.
I’d take the pinecone when I left.
“Tell me what new hold you have over me then,” I said wearily, the hairs on the back of my neck rising with Kyros’s position behind me.
“I thought you’d have noticed by now. I certainly have. But you’ve been… occupied.”
Understatement of the century. “Just fucking tell—”
“We can feel each other’s emotions.”
What?
Pivoting on the sofa, I fixed on his face, waiting for the punchline.
“Disbelief,” he said, arching a brow. “It’s no joke, Miss Tetley. I may omit the truth on occasion, but I wouldn’t joke about what we share.”
Share? How was me losing every scrap of my life while he continued happy as Larry sharing?
“Loathing. Loss,” he said quietly.
The mess of emotions I’d felt since the thrall ended was because I was feeling his emotions too.
My human mind wanted to baulk at that. Because WTF?
And yet, hadn’t the swirl of emotions left me dizzy several times? When had that ever happened? How could a person be dizzy from feeling too much?
Shit, shit, shit.
His next word rang in my ears. “Acceptance.”
I knew better than to question what could and could not be when it came to Vissimo. As Angelica once aptly said, a mouse looking at a human would think they possessed magic.
“How does it work? You can’t hear my actual thoughts, right?” If so, I was screwed.
“That doesn’t occur on this exchange, no.”
I scoffed. “A fourth exchange? That’s not happening. It may not have been your fault we swapped blood a third time, but that’s where this circus ends.”
“You’re my true mate,” he growled.
Cue eye-roll. “Yeah, and you look as thrilled about that as I am.”
“Having you as a mate is my honour.” He executed a small bow.
Colour me surprised his spine could bend like that.
“Save it, Kyros. I don’t need to feel your emotions to know that’s a lie.”
He leaned against the bench—dressed in my favourite air-force blue suit.
Forcing away the itch to eliminate the space between us while throwing off my clothing, I asked, “Why are you offering so much information all of a sudden?”
“You deserve it. You’re my mate.”
I did my best to control my reaction to his words. Beneath my sarcastic mental snort was another emotion.
“Concealment?” I announced after a beat. “You’re lying. You don’t think I deserve the truth.”
His disagreement to that was strong.
I shook my head, trying again. “I deserve the truth, but that isn’t why you’re telling me.”
Shit.
Feeling his emotions could come in handy. Really handy.
He pushed off the bench. “To reiterate, I can’t hear your thoughts. Only your emotion. Which is often hard to decipher unless the emotion is strong.”
There was something he wasn’t saying. That could join the slew of other omissions he’d made.
“Relief, Suspicion,” Kyros stated, amusement plain in his voice.
“I don’t suppose this new development is affected by distance?”
“It is not.”
I flopped back on the sofa, covering my face with both hands. “Why us?” I wasn’t selfish enough to say why me. Not when he was so miserable about this too. The third exchange was forced on both of us.
Kyros wasn’t amused anymore. “Who can say, Miss Tetley?”
An odd flash punctuated his comment. The emotion was gone before I could peg it. I had a personal lie detector for the eldest son of Clan Sundulus, and I’d practice this new ability whenever possible.
Swinging my legs down, I glanced at the pinecone again. “Is that everything I need to know about the third exchange?”
“The urges have intensified, we feel each other’s emotion, and we are true mates. Yes.”
Oh, was that all? Call me Overreacting Olive.
The sparkles I’d hot glued onto the pinecone caught the light streaming in through the ceiling-to-floor windows. I’d given the pinecone to Kyros in a weak moment—during the thrall, and just before Tommy came to tell me the terrible news about my grandmother.
My pinecones were for people who weren’t narcissistic owners of towers and slaves.
I stood and lunged toward the dresser.
Kyros captured my wrists in one hand.
“That’s cheating,” I said, teeth clenched. Using his vampire speed wasn’t allowed.
“Don’t touch my pinecone,” he said calmly.
“You’re not allowed it anymore.”
His eyes searched mine. “You gifted it to me for saving your life. Has that changed?”
“Just about everything else has.”
“You knew I’d omitted the long-term consequence of the second blood exchange prior to gifting it.”
I yanked, and he released my wrists. I nearly groaned at the sliding contact.
Jesus.
Hands on hips, I pinned him with my grandmother’s quelling glare. “Other things have changed. I was in the thrall when I gave it to you.”
“Tell me what has changed,” he rushed in a low voice.
My fucking grandmother is dead, you callous bastard.
Kyros knew what had happened, but he couldn’t know what that felt like because I hadn’t allowed myself to feel everything since Tommy gave me the news.
He wanted to know what had changed?
Fine.
Holding his gaze, I thought of my grandmother lying in her open coffin looking like a stranger with her eyes closed. I thought of my fear that Laurel would report my real identity after the funeral; that my terror over that had overshadowed the grief that should have been my sole focus. I thought of the five Indebted who were no longer here, of hurting Tommy, and of my grandmother’s friends who’d lost a part of themselves too.
Kyros’s lips parted.
I thought of how I’d crawled to him across the ground of that basement, blood pouring from my stomach, unable to feel anything but white-hot fire roaring between us.
Kyros’s eyes blazed. His breath hitched.
I was so alone.
Sinking.
I wanted to sink.
Why couldn’t I sink?
When he reached for me, I stumbled away, shutting down the chasm I’d opened. Losing my parents made me pretty adept at slamming the door shut when needed.
“That’s what changed,” I whispered when I could trust my voice. “So keep the fucking pinecone. There are one hundred and twenty more in circulation anyway.”
A tendril that wasn’t mine panged in the centre of my chest.
Ignoring his hurt, I strode to the door.
“We’re yet to discuss the spy in our midst,” he called quietly.
We didn’t have a midst.
Hand on the doorknob, I cocked my head to look at the vampire. “Is it fair to say that someone close to me is the most likely candidate?”