with pasty white skin and flaming orange hair. Still, he possessed the aura of power that seemed to accompany all vampires.
“The last time I saw him was on the battlefield,” Ibegan, feeling the worry eat away at my gut as I remembered the expressions of disbelief, anger, and sorrow in Sinjin’s eyes as I died right in front of him. “He watched me die, Varick, and then he just disappeared. And I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”
“Neither have I,” Varick answered in the same indifferent voice.
His apathy angered me. How could he be so callous, so uninterested, when he and Sinjin had worked together for hundreds of years? How could he care so little?
“Aren’t you worried?” I demanded in a harsh voice. Varick turned his full attention to me, and something feral in his eyes warned me not to upset him. I had to swallow my trepidation. “I mean, aren’t you worried that maybe he’s in trouble?” If I’d been a dog, my tail would have been firmly planted between my legs as I circled Varick’s feet and begged for a good scratching right between the ears.
“In trouble?” Varick responded with a chuckle that revealed anything but humor. Nope, Varick was someone you didn’t cross. It was like he was just aching to rip out your throat. But he also had to know that messing with me wasn’t a good idea—not with Rand and Mercedes in the room. One lunge at me and they’d open up a can of whoop-ass on Varick faster than he could say “bloodsucker.”
“Isn’t it kind of crappy that you’re so nonchalant about the fact that Sinjin is MIA?” I asked, feeling stronger in my own skin.
“And perhaps you would care to enlighten me as to why you are so interested?” Varick retorted in the same monotone that grated on my nerves.
“Sinjin is my friend,” I replied with narrowed eyes. “And I care about my friends. If he’s in trouble, I want to know.”
Varick raised both brows as if he didn’t quite believe the whole “Sinjin is my friend” story. I held my tongue but didn’t look away. Finally, Varick realized I wasn’t about to admit anything else, and he dropped his patronizing expression.
“Sinclair is not in trouble. He is most probably causing it.”
Yeah, I had to concur with him on that one. Sinjin was a troublemaker, if nothing else. I leaned back in my seat and sighed, hoping the nervous energy in my stomach would dissipate. But I didn’t imagine it would until Sinjin was actually standing in front of me, in his usual attire of black on black, with that flirty smile I’d come to know so well. Only then could I assure myself he was okay.
“I can feel him in my veins,” Varick whispered, leaning closer to me. The cold of his body pierced my skin, making me shiver. I resisted the urge to pull away because if anything, that’s what he wanted me to do. He glanced down at the goose bumps that were now covering my forearm and smiled in sincere amusement. It was obvious that he enjoyed his immense power.
“But—” I was ready to argue that if Sinjin was okay, he’d be sitting around this table probably playing footsie with me while I attempted to rebuff his advances.
“Set aside your concerns,” Varick interrupted, shaking his head as if to say the conversation was over.
Hmm … jerk though Varick obviously was, his words brought me some sort of relief. The more I thought about the fact that Varick could feel Sinjin in his veins, the better I felt. That meant Sinjin was alive … well, as alive as a vampire could be. Yet if Sinjin was alive, why wasn’t he here at Varick’s side? Was Varick irritated by Sinjin’s absence? Would he hurt him?
I glanced at Varick again, trying to decide if anything seemed amiss about him. He definitely appeared to beirritated, but that was probably the result of my interrogation. Besides, Varick seemed perpetually vexed—as if living for hundreds of years gave him little or no patience for dealing with people like me.
“Have you
“The last time I saw him was on the battlefield,” Ibegan, feeling the worry eat away at my gut as I remembered the expressions of disbelief, anger, and sorrow in Sinjin’s eyes as I died right in front of him. “He watched me die, Varick, and then he just disappeared. And I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”
“Neither have I,” Varick answered in the same indifferent voice.
His apathy angered me. How could he be so callous, so uninterested, when he and Sinjin had worked together for hundreds of years? How could he care so little?
“Aren’t you worried?” I demanded in a harsh voice. Varick turned his full attention to me, and something feral in his eyes warned me not to upset him. I had to swallow my trepidation. “I mean, aren’t you worried that maybe he’s in trouble?” If I’d been a dog, my tail would have been firmly planted between my legs as I circled Varick’s feet and begged for a good scratching right between the ears.
“In trouble?” Varick responded with a chuckle that revealed anything but humor. Nope, Varick was someone you didn’t cross. It was like he was just aching to rip out your throat. But he also had to know that messing with me wasn’t a good idea—not with Rand and Mercedes in the room. One lunge at me and they’d open up a can of whoop-ass on Varick faster than he could say “bloodsucker.”
“Isn’t it kind of crappy that you’re so nonchalant about the fact that Sinjin is MIA?” I asked, feeling stronger in my own skin.
“And perhaps you would care to enlighten me as to why you are so interested?” Varick retorted in the same monotone that grated on my nerves.
“Sinjin is my friend,” I replied with narrowed eyes. “And I care about my friends. If he’s in trouble, I want to know.”
Varick raised both brows as if he didn’t quite believe the whole “Sinjin is my friend” story. I held my tongue but didn’t look away. Finally, Varick realized I wasn’t about to admit anything else, and he dropped his patronizing expression.
“Sinclair is not in trouble. He is most probably causing it.”
Yeah, I had to concur with him on that one. Sinjin was a troublemaker, if nothing else. I leaned back in my seat and sighed, hoping the nervous energy in my stomach would dissipate. But I didn’t imagine it would until Sinjin was actually standing in front of me, in his usual attire of black on black, with that flirty smile I’d come to know so well. Only then could I assure myself he was okay.
“I can feel him in my veins,” Varick whispered, leaning closer to me. The cold of his body pierced my skin, making me shiver. I resisted the urge to pull away because if anything, that’s what he wanted me to do. He glanced down at the goose bumps that were now covering my forearm and smiled in sincere amusement. It was obvious that he enjoyed his immense power.
“But—” I was ready to argue that if Sinjin was okay, he’d be sitting around this table probably playing footsie with me while I attempted to rebuff his advances.
“Set aside your concerns,” Varick interrupted, shaking his head as if to say the conversation was over.
Hmm … jerk though Varick obviously was, his words brought me some sort of relief. The more I thought about the fact that Varick could feel Sinjin in his veins, the better I felt. That meant Sinjin was alive … well, as alive as a vampire could be. Yet if Sinjin was alive, why wasn’t he here at Varick’s side? Was Varick irritated by Sinjin’s absence? Would he hurt him?
I glanced at Varick again, trying to decide if anything seemed amiss about him. He definitely appeared to beirritated, but that was probably the result of my interrogation. Besides, Varick seemed perpetually vexed—as if living for hundreds of years gave him little or no patience for dealing with people like me.
“Have you
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