"What?" My fingers itched for the stake. Not that I would be able to use it against him. The thought of killing my own blood sickened me. Still it would have been a comfort to have some means of self-defense. "What will never be enough?"

"Anything I ever do. You're always going to see me as the monster who attacked you that night in the morgue, the vampire who manipulated and degraded you. But I was a man since then, Carrie, a good man. And now I'm your fledgling. Anything I' in capable of doing now, it's because of you." He clenched his fists impotently at his sides.

I looked away. "And if I did to you what you've done to me, you wouldn't trust me, either."

I heard his footfalls on the floor as he came closer. When I looked up, his face was a breath from mine. My heart pounded with uncertainty as he leaned closer. "If I wanted to kill you, I could do it anytime. We wouldn't have to be alone." His voice was a deadly whisper. "And you did do to me what I did to you."

He stepped around me, and I swallowed hard.

"I'll meet you in the van." His words were clipped and he left no room for another feeble apology from me, slamming the door resolutely to punctuate his sentence.

I sagged against the wall, willing all the tension from my body. Then I realized it wasn't my agitation, but Cyrus's. I closed my eyes, my chest aching with the knowledge that I'd hurt him.

Still, before I went to the car, I slipped a stake into my purse, just in case.

Chapter Thirteen
Triangle

"That's him, it has to be."

I ignored Cyrus's declaration of certainty. He'd spotted Clarence at least five times since we'd parked a discreet distance from the mansion.

"That's not him." I barely had to open my eyes to tell. "What is the matter with you? Did you never look at the man?"

"I looked at him," Cyrus admitted a little sheepishly. "But not often."

"Because you're a stuck-up, imperialistic bastard." I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. It wasn't because I hadn't had enough sleep. It just made it easier to ignore Cyrus if I could pretend to be unconscious.

The dream had really screwed up my head. Even he, shameless though he was, felt it. Now that I was blood tied to him again, the old attraction returned with a vengeance. But it hadn't ever really gone away. I suppose it had just lain dormant during his brief stint of humanity.

There was no chance of a return to that relationship. I loved Nathan, and he almost loved me—at least he had until I'd fucked that up again. Even if we weren't on the best of terms, sleeping with Cyrus would be a slap in Nathan's face.