Page 84 of Blood Mosaic

“They’re people,” Tatyana said. “At least as far as I can tell.” She’d spent over a month observing the various types of immortals she’d run into at the Admiral. It was an interesting study.

“What do you mean they’re people? Of course they used to be people, but?—”

“I don’t know that becoming a vampire changes your character all that much.” Tatyana shrugged. “Except for the blood thing.”

The moment she said blood, she felt Oleg’s hot breath on her neck. His firm lips on her mouth.

Anna looked down at Pushkin, stroking his back as he purred. “You should go to church.”

“You don’t go to church.”

“No? I don’t work for vampires either.”

Tatyana couldn’t stop her smile. “I’ve watched them. They are mostly like normal people. There are bosses and employees. There are quiet, introverted vampires who keep to themselves. There are outlandish and generous ones who prefer human company more than that of other vampires. Water vampires are sneaky and always seem to be plotting silently. Earth vampires are loyal and friendly. Wind vampires are hard to judge. Of all of them, they seem the most strange to me.”

“And your boss?” Anna’s hand paused on the cat’s tail. “I see the way he looks at you.”

Tatyana felt her cheeks burn. She’d tried her best to forget the experience of Oleg “claiming” her in front of a hundred staring eyes, but she couldn’t forget it, and the thread of pleasure that shot through her blood whenever she remembered his lips filled her with shame.

He was a monster. He was her boss. No matter what he said or how determined he was, any kind of relationship with him would be a disaster.

“Fire vampires are something else,” Tatyana said. “They don’t fit into neat categories.”

“Fire vampires,” Anna muttered. “Working for a fire vampire sounds like a fast way to die.” For a moment Anna’s hand clutched the back of Pushkin’s neck and trembled. “Do you want to die, Tanya? Is that what this is about? Do you hate me so much?”

“It’s not about you.” That was enough; Tatyana stood. She couldn’t take any more of her mother’s selfishness. “I need to go.”

“You just got here.”

Pushkin gave a loud chirrup and leaped off Anna’s lap.

“I have to go.” She walked over and bent down, placing a kiss on Anna’s cheek. “I’ll call you if I have time before I go back to Odesa.”

“It must be nice,” Anna said, “to travel like that.” Her mother’s eyes lifted to the ceiling. “Like the birds. They can fly anywhere. They don’t know borders, do they?”

Tatyana’s anger cooled, and she saw her mother for the worried, trapped woman she was, bound by her own anxiety, unable to leave a home that brought her little pleasure because to give it up meant losing her daughter.

Anna was right. Her pampered birds had far more freedom than she did.

“I’ll try to come back,” Tatyana said, “before I leave the city.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“You didn’t staywith your mother long.” Oleg was paging through a magazine about race cars. “You had more time.”

“My mother is complicated.” Tatyana looked out the window as they sped out of the city and toward the outskirts of town, taking the road along the shoreline where vast estates were reserved for the rich and powerful. “You have a house here?”

He didn’t look up. “Yes.”

“Do you enjoy spending time in Sevastopol? It’s beautiful in the summer.”

“I can’t really sunbathe.” Oleg glanced at her. “Which steals some of the charm of the seaside.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Tatyana smiled a little bit. “So is it an instant ‘burst into flames’ kind of thing, because I’ve seen you on fire and you seem to handle it well.”

Oleg chuckled, and the sound warmed her belly.

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