Alasdair tightened his fingers on the chin he was holding, silencing him. “I don’t plan to kill you. At least, not yet.”
He released his hold and backed away, bringing the candles back to life with a mere thought. Then he stared down at the man, who was still on the floor, and thought, No…we have too much to discuss. And no one is going to touch you until I have my answers.
LEO KEPT A wary eye on the unpredictable vampire as he paced back and forth. He was both fascinated and terrified as he watched him move about. He’d never been in the presence of something so ancient and alive. As an archaeologist and lover of history, he was in awe.
The creature walked as if he were gliding across the surface, his motions fluid and soundless. He had broad shoulders currently covered by a loose, white button-down shirt, and where Leo would have guessed him to be around six three, maybe six four, he now realized that wasn’t the case at all.
This vampire, who had picked him up like some kind of rag doll, was six foot at the most. Like him.
“Get up.”
Leo raised his head but remained where he was. Maybe, if I stay still, he won’t—
“I said—” Get. Up.
This time, the order entered Leo’s mind, and before he could even try to understand how that had happened, he was on his feet and toe-to-toe with the male. Almost like his brain was issuing an instruction that he was not giving. He tried to clear the fog swirling through his head, but it was no use. It was as if it were squashing down his own thoughts while being manipulated into doing someone else’s.
Look at me.
Leo’s eyes fastened on the face opposite him as he stood transfixed.
“There’s something different about you,” the vampire drawled as he left Leo’s line of sight. It wasn’t until he spoke again that Leo realized he was now behind him. “I want to know what it is.”
Still unable to move or talk, Leo remained helpless to do anything but listen as he tried to sift through his blurry thoughts.
Who are you? Tell me your name.
The question was shoved inside his head, and he couldn’t stop himself from answering.
“Leo. Leonidas Chapel.”
“Ahh. That explains one thing. We have something in common, you and I. I, too, am of Greek descent. Wouldn’t that be a stroke of ironic fate? If you were of my bloodline all those years ago?”
Leo’s heart raced when he realized what was happening. He’d somehow lost complete control over his free will, and there was no way to stop himself from giving any and all information to the one who was demanding answers.
Tell me everything about you in less time than it takes for me to become bored.
Without a second thought, Leo rattled off, “I’m twenty-seven years old, an only child, and I lost my mother three months ago to cancer.” His throat physically tightened around the words, practically choking him, even as the drive to continue talking remained. “I’m an archeologist, and I work as a curator at the National History Museum downtown.”
His mouth clamped shut after that, his brain deciding that that was the right amount of information to give. The room was so incredibly still he thought he’d been left alone. That the vampire had done that thing where he vanished from sight—but a warm breath skimmed the back of his neck and a third question was asked.
That’s everything? I don’t think so. How did you stop me that night in your room? What are you, Leonidas?
Leo’s mind started to whirl—as if it were sifting through every thought and memory he’d ever had. Like someone flicking through a filing cabinet in search of an answer to the question.
It wasn’t until he saw a shadow out of the corner of his eye that he was aware that the one who was questioning him was walking back around to face him. He stared at the vampire, who was waiting with a look of dangerous interest on his face, and then his expression intensified when he finally replied, “I don’t know.”
HE DIDN’T BELIEVE him—the human. Or perhaps he’d call him Leonidas now. As Alasdair circled him, he looked over his naked chest and back, checking for any kind of supernatural markings. Any indicator that he wasn’t merely the human he claimed to be. But there was nothing.
“I don’t believe you,” Alasdair said when he stopped in front of him.
Leo watched him with the blank stare of someone under the force of compulsion, and Alasdair found himself disliking the dull expression on him. It was an odd thought to have since he’d never given much credence to any others’ reactions in the past. But he quickly removed the fog from Leo’s mind and watched the light of awareness spark back in the eyes focused on him.
Then Alasdair asked, “Are you telling me the truth?” He waited for Leo to regain control over both his mind and his body, and when Leo finally spoke, the words were not what he’d been expecting.
“It’s hard not to when you’re being forced. How did you do that?”
Well, well, Alasdair thought. Isn’t that curious. Remembering what happened after a full compulsion. “I did something to you? What? Pray tell.”
“You were in my head,” Leo accused and took a wary step back. “Somehow controlling my thoughts. My actions.”
“Was I?” Alasdair asked. Then he closed the distance between them, unable to fight the desire to be close to the human. “You felt me inside your mind?”
Those wary eyes of Leo’s darted over his shoulder as Isadora appeared in the room. Alasdair had sensed her before she had faded in, but he hadn’t wanted to turn away from the wired man. Leo’s tense shoulders and fidgety hands gave him away. He was ready to bolt if given the chance.
Not that he’d get very far.
His hair was like it had been the first time Alasdair had seen him—sticking out at every angle, in complete disarray, as if he’d been worrying it with his hands. Considering his circumstances, Alasdair imagined that was exactly why it was a mess—but somehow, the mess suited this guy. As did the strong line of his jaw, which he had a sudden desire to scrape his teeth along.
His eyes were intelligent but jumpy as hell as they continued shifting between him and his cousin, trying to work them out like some kind of puzzle. Then a frown appeared between his eyebrows.
He asked, “How did she do that?”
Unfazed by the question, Alasdair forced his thoughts into Leo’s mind. It’s nothing that concerns you.
“Shit. I mean…” Leo shook his head. “How do you do that? It’s…it’s weird as hell, but totally fascinating.”
Blindsided by the curiosity in Leo’s voice, Alasdair actually found himself on the verge of explaining the finer workings of how he enters a mind, that he could only communicate inside his head this way because he’d fed from him. But that would have to wait, because suddenly, he felt him—Vasilios.
He twisted his head to the side to acknowledge Isadora for the first time. Her eyes flicked towards Leo and then back to him. The reason for her arrival was now crystal clear.
Fuck. Fuck. He’d thought he’d have more time. What the hell am I going to tell him?
Alasdair wrapped his fingers around Leo’s bicep, holding him in place. “Listen to me very carefully. If you want to live past the next five minutes, do exactly what I tell you to.”