parents. Taking time out of his busy life to help me with something thatâs important to me. What a crime.â
âFind your parents?â Blue whistled. âSo you are a lost little girl.â
She twisted to face him, fists clenched, ready to punch him in his T-shirtâs anatomically correct heart. âYouâre really pissing me off. I know thatâs your M.O., but Iâm warning you: you need to stop, or I will snap and hurt you.â
He smiled. âSee, this is why I donât get you. Youâre so prickly and untouchable when youâre with me ⦠why canât you keep that up all the time?â
âBecause. This might be fun for youâbut I donât like being angry all the time.â Her nails were digging into her palms so hard it hurt.
She relaxed her fists and climbed off the couch. She needed to get away from him before she broke something over his headâbut he grabbed the back of her shirt and pulled her back down.
âWait,â he said.
âWhat?â she snapped, held in place by the fist clenching her shirt.
Blue smiled. He had one of those devastatingly charming smiles that made you hate him even more when you noticed it. It was like he was fighting dirty.
âDonât go. Tell me something.â
âTell you what?â she said stiffly.
âTell me what you would do if I was nice to you.â
âNot kill you,â she said. She didnât even have to think about it.
He laughed. âHow many people have you killed?â
âFive hundred.â She rolled her eyes. âHow many people have you killed?â
Blue let go of her shirt, rose, and wandered to the edge of the suite, where the minibar was. He twisted open one of the tiny clear bottles; swallowed before he answeredâin a voice that was like choking.
âOne.â
He kissed her like a man possessed.
It was the kind of kiss you vanished into. everything disap peared except the sound of her breathing. The smell of her red hair: passion fruit and raspberries. He lifted his hands to push her hair away from her face so he could look at her.
It was a first kiss. It was a perfect kissâsheâd told him so, and heâd flushed with pleasure. Drunk on it.
He kissed her again. Deeper. Pulled her closer.
He heard his friends performing in the other room: Jewel sing ing, Freddie picking out the tune on his guitar.
Happy birthday. Happy birthday.
Happy birthdayâ
And then the strangest gasp. eyes rolling back so the whites showed. Terror in his heart. Silence in hers.
âto you.
Blue left Mira alone after that, mixed himself a drink, and didnât speak to her, not even to harass her. He sprawled on the couch and watched movies from Felixâs vast collection; she took a bubble bath with the door locked. She thought she would feel better when he wasnât talking to her, but it was actually more unsettlingâshe wasnât used to his being quiet.
He was, however, inebriated. Which could be very bad ⦠or it could make him let down his guard and answer some of her questions.
Mira sat in the chair across from him. Blue had slid halfway down the couch, a highball glass in his hand. She didnât even know what he had in there. Lighter fluid, judging by the smell.
âHey, psycho,â she said.
âHey.â His eyes were glued to the screenâan old war movie. It looked vaguely familiar.
âSo tell me something: why are your friends so weird?â
âFreddieâs not weird.â
âUm, little animals flock to him like heâs made of candy.â
âThat makes the animals weird.â
She pressed her lips together, momentarily stymied.
âIs it because theyâre cursed?â
âThe animals?â Blue took a slurp from his glass; grimaced like he really was drinking lighter fluid.
âYour friends.â
âProbably. It creates a lot of drama. Sturm und Drang. Crap like
âFind your parents?â Blue whistled. âSo you are a lost little girl.â
She twisted to face him, fists clenched, ready to punch him in his T-shirtâs anatomically correct heart. âYouâre really pissing me off. I know thatâs your M.O., but Iâm warning you: you need to stop, or I will snap and hurt you.â
He smiled. âSee, this is why I donât get you. Youâre so prickly and untouchable when youâre with me ⦠why canât you keep that up all the time?â
âBecause. This might be fun for youâbut I donât like being angry all the time.â Her nails were digging into her palms so hard it hurt.
She relaxed her fists and climbed off the couch. She needed to get away from him before she broke something over his headâbut he grabbed the back of her shirt and pulled her back down.
âWait,â he said.
âWhat?â she snapped, held in place by the fist clenching her shirt.
Blue smiled. He had one of those devastatingly charming smiles that made you hate him even more when you noticed it. It was like he was fighting dirty.
âDonât go. Tell me something.â
âTell you what?â she said stiffly.
âTell me what you would do if I was nice to you.â
âNot kill you,â she said. She didnât even have to think about it.
He laughed. âHow many people have you killed?â
âFive hundred.â She rolled her eyes. âHow many people have you killed?â
Blue let go of her shirt, rose, and wandered to the edge of the suite, where the minibar was. He twisted open one of the tiny clear bottles; swallowed before he answeredâin a voice that was like choking.
âOne.â
He kissed her like a man possessed.
It was the kind of kiss you vanished into. everything disap peared except the sound of her breathing. The smell of her red hair: passion fruit and raspberries. He lifted his hands to push her hair away from her face so he could look at her.
It was a first kiss. It was a perfect kissâsheâd told him so, and heâd flushed with pleasure. Drunk on it.
He kissed her again. Deeper. Pulled her closer.
He heard his friends performing in the other room: Jewel sing ing, Freddie picking out the tune on his guitar.
Happy birthday. Happy birthday.
Happy birthdayâ
And then the strangest gasp. eyes rolling back so the whites showed. Terror in his heart. Silence in hers.
âto you.
Blue left Mira alone after that, mixed himself a drink, and didnât speak to her, not even to harass her. He sprawled on the couch and watched movies from Felixâs vast collection; she took a bubble bath with the door locked. She thought she would feel better when he wasnât talking to her, but it was actually more unsettlingâshe wasnât used to his being quiet.
He was, however, inebriated. Which could be very bad ⦠or it could make him let down his guard and answer some of her questions.
Mira sat in the chair across from him. Blue had slid halfway down the couch, a highball glass in his hand. She didnât even know what he had in there. Lighter fluid, judging by the smell.
âHey, psycho,â she said.
âHey.â His eyes were glued to the screenâan old war movie. It looked vaguely familiar.
âSo tell me something: why are your friends so weird?â
âFreddieâs not weird.â
âUm, little animals flock to him like heâs made of candy.â
âThat makes the animals weird.â
She pressed her lips together, momentarily stymied.
âIs it because theyâre cursed?â
âThe animals?â Blue took a slurp from his glass; grimaced like he really was drinking lighter fluid.
âYour friends.â
âProbably. It creates a lot of drama. Sturm und Drang. Crap like
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