If I wasn't overloaded from grief, I would've been shocked. As it was, I could only muster up faint surprise.
Maximus leaned forward, brushing my hair back.
"I told you when we met, you're beautiful, ballsy, and your abilities fascinate me. I've also seen your courage, your loyalty, and your strength in leaving a man you loved because you knew he'd never love you."
More surprise, but that was trivial compared to my anguish and the growing need I had to avenge my best friend and the young girl who'd never had a real chance at life.
"Maximus, you're very attractive and I'm flattered, but I can't even think about this right now."
He leaned back, a hard little smile curving his mouth. "I know, but we are having this conversation again."
I didn't argue. I was too busy trying to figure out who was behind that explosion. I still doubted it was Vlad, but if Maximus thought it was possible, I shouldn't throw caution to the wind by automatically discounting the idea.
Besides, even if I was right and Vlad wasn't behind this, I doubted news of my alleged death would rock him. He'd gone out of his way to prove that I didn't mean much to him.
I shook off that thought before it brought me even lower than my rock-bottom state. "I need some clothes."
Maximus got up and rummaged through the suitcase on the dresser. Then he pulled out a shirt and a pair of boxer shorts.
"These won't fit, but the fire burned your clothes off and I haven't had time to get you new ones."
"This is fine," I said, accepting the bundle. As soon as I touched it, colorless images exploded across my mind.
I stuffed my clothes in the suitcase and then slammed it shut. Time to take Leila home. No one expected her to leave Vlad, yet she had, and soon she'd be an ocean away from him. I smiled at the thought. She might have refused me once, but that was before she realized Vlad couldn't give her what she needed. I could, and now I finally had a real chance to show her that.
"Maximus," I whispered once the hotel room with its putrid yellow walls surrounded me once again. "It's back!"
Chapter 8
Maximus pulled out a lighter, turning the flame up. I held my hand over it - and immediately snatched it back with a yelp.
"That hurts!"
He flipped the lighter closed. "You're saying for several weeks it didn't, because Vlad's aura rendered you fireproof?"
"That's right. Fire skipped over me like it does with him. How else do you explain me surviving an explosion that was so intense, it destroyed the trailer I was in?"
And killed another vampire, I didn't say aloud. If I dwelled on Marty's death, I'd start sobbing and wouldn't stop.
"Being in such intense flames must have used up the remains of his aura in you," Maximus said in a thoughtful tone. Then he frowned. "Vlad told me about your psychic abilities malfunctioning. Why didn't he tell me this?"
I sighed. I didn't want to think about Vlad now. "Maybe because he'd never done it before and he wanted to keep his ability to render someone temporarily fireproof a secret?"
"Perhaps," he mused.
I didn't care why Vlad hadn't told anyone. My fireproofing was gone, my abilities were back, and someone who'd tried to kill me had murdered my closest friend, an innocent girl, and many others, too. Finding that person and making him pay was my new goal in life.
"Okay, picking up impressions from an object works. Let's see if I can still find someone in the present."
So saying, I stroked the nightstand with my right hand. Tables, doorknobs, and other fixtures were high-traffic areas for emotional imprints. At once, multiple images flashed across my mind. I weeded through them until I found the strongest thread. Then I concentrated on it, seeking the person at the other end of that invisible essence trail.
The hotel room morphed into an office decorated in shades of beige. A fortysomething man sat behind a desk, balancing the phone with his shoulder as he grabbed a notepad.
"No, that's not what we agreed on," he said as he scribbled away. "I don't care what her lawyer wants . . . for f**k's sake, she's already getting half my check in alimony and child support!"
Even though everything was slightly hazy as images in the present were, the word BITCH on the notepad was clear. You shouldn't have kept cheating on your wife in no-tell motels, I thought, dropping the link and willing myself back to reality.
Maximus stared at me without blinking. "Did it work?"
"Yes."
A ruthless anticipation began to swell in me. Now I could start hunting for the person who killed Marty. I still didn't believe it was Vlad, but if I was wrong . . .
"Maximus, thank you for pulling me out from under the wreckage, healing me, and bringing me here. I owe you my life." I paused to take in a deep breath. "But now you need to go."
Both golden brows rose. "What?"
"If Vlad is behind this, I can't trust you," I said bluntly. "You might like me, but we both know you're not going to betray centuries of allegiance over a passing fancy."
I expected a lot of responses. Laughter that sounded like stones grinding together wasn't one of them.
"You don't know me as much as you think you do," he said, and then grabbed my right hand. My power responded, yanking me out of the present into his past.
Multiple wounds covered me, but I was jubilant. The Holy City was once again ours.
"Allah Akbar!" a voice wailed above our shouts of victory.
Fools. If their god truly was great, we wouldn't have retaken Jerusalem. The survivors of the battle, mostly women and children, stared at us with frightened loathing.
Then my cousin Godfrey's voice rang out. "Men of God! Destroy the filth that befouled Jerusalem. Let none survive!"
I froze. Sunlight glinted off hundreds of swords as the other soldiers raised their weapons. Then the swords fell to the accompaniment of high-pitched screams.
"Obey!" the knight closest to me urged. He showed no hesitation as he hacked at those in front of him.
"God wills it!" Godfrey continued to roar while he joined in the destruction. "We must cleanse this city!"
A form hurtled toward me. By reflex, I caught it, looking down on the tearstained face of a boy, his brown eyes wide as he sobbed out a plea for mercy in his native tongue.
Abruptly, he sagged, blood spurting from his mouth. The knight next to me yanked his dripping sword from the boy's back.
"We have orders," he barked. "Do not refuse. God wills it!"
I dropped the lifeless boy. Then, jaw clenched, I raised my sword and started toward the survivors.