Page 2 of Shift in the Blood
“Because the way he paints her, every brush stroke is one of love. I think he knew her, cared for her. Loved her.” My voice caught, hitched with emotion, on the last word.
Didier didn’t reply.
I inhaled deeply, wanting to smell more of his cool lake scent. Like the paintings, Didier Hugo radiated a glow, although one that was different from the paintings in front of me. But as with the paintings, I wanted to bask in the glow of the man behind me.
The crazy thing is I haven’t even seen him in person. Just a photo, a scent, and an overwhelming of all of my senses.
“He did,” Didier said. “He loved her very much.” His voice warmed, as though he were smiling, thinking something that made him happy.
“How do you know?” My voice barely rose above the noise around us.
“I think we can talk about that later. I appreciate you taking the time and effort to meet me.”
“There was no way I could pass up the chance to at least speak with you. You made a generous offer.”
“I don’t mind paying for things of value,” Didier’s voice hummed behind me.
“Why these?” I lifted my chin, indicating the paintings before me.
“Because I love them,” he said simply. “Don’t you?”
I took a breath, finding his cool scent intoxicating. “I do. He’s the reason I paint.”
“Oh?” The word was a whisper, hidden among the sounds of the people around us. Yet there was a wealth of questions in just one word, a lifetime of conversations.
What in the name of holy hell was going on?
I met a lot of men in my line of work. Most big, burly, or slimy. All extremely shady, even the ones who wore an air of legitimacy. I’d never met anyone who could make all my senses go haywire or open a chasm of desire for… something… like this man did.
Astounding to me was the fact I’d never looked in his eyes.
“He was the featured artist at a gallery or museum my parents took me to when I was little,” I said. “I couldn’t stop staring at his work because I couldn’t take my eyes off the colors. They were so rich, so alive.”
“That was his way,” Didier’s voice was more normal now.
Thank god. The cool smooth silken voice wreaked havoc on my nerves, and I needed them in place and behaving if I was going to pull this off for me and for Carina. “I’ve loved his work all my life.”
“I know,” Didier’s words carried a smile. “That’s why I contacted you, rather than any other member of your… profession.”
“Really?” I nearly turned around, but an iron hand on my shoulder stopped me.
“Yes. I see his technique in your work. You are perfect for my commission.”
“Why do you want these paintings?” I asked.
“So that I can leave them behind when I steal the originals.” Didier spoke like we were discussing nothing more pressing than the weather as he moved into my line of sight.
I felt my mouth drop open, betraying my surprise. He was beautiful. He was intensity come to life. I wanted to move closer to him, but my body told me I should be scared to death.
Chapter Two
Didier
Her shock rippled over my skin like a familiar caress. After all these years, I still took a thrill in how my presence affected unsuspecting humans. There’s no one thing any human pinpointed to explain their reaction to a vampire. I liked to imagine something deep inside their primitive brain registering a single word:predator. As if their fight-or-flight response misfired so violently it caused paralysis. It was nearly as good as the taste of their blood.
Not that I’d hunted in years.
In this modern age, I had my pick of women and men willing to allow me to drink from them. They offered their necks with a childlike trust that I found intoxicating. It would be so easy to break that trust, to suckle at their vein until their form went limp in my arms, but… that would end the delicious dance. When drinking from a human, there was a moment they began to wonder if I would stop. Their concern and fear warred with the pleasure my bite brought. It was irresistible, the moment of the shifting of the blood.
