I snort. “Yes. I remember that. Feeding a vampire your blood isn’t exactly something you forget.”
Actually, most times it is something a human forgets because the vamp sucking their blood compels them to forget, but Parker didn’t compel me. I wouldn’t have let him, and honestly, I doubt he’d want me to forget that experience. The feeling I got when he drank from me was…euphoric and orgasmic.
I turn red again, my entire body heating up at the memory of being so intimate with Parker. His lips twitch as if he’s fighting a smile. He knows what I’m thinking about. That’s so embarrassing. I huff in exasperation. “Yes, I remember. And why are we bringing this up now?”
“There’s something different about your blood,” he says quietly, staring out at the highway. “It’s highly addictive. I’ve craved it since that day, and for the first two weeks I couldn’t drink anything else. I had to have Henry compel me to go hunt someone else.”
I rear back in shock, and a shiver races down my spine. Not a good shiver. “Seriously?”
He grimaces. “Yes, seriously. You aren’t human, Nora.”
“What?” That isn’t what I expected him to say.
“You don’t just have a little underworlder blood in you; you are an underworlder. A very strong one. One I can’t identify.”
The news is so shocking that I realize I believe him. If I didn’t, I’d be laughing right now. But I’ve always felt different from the people around me, and my gifts have to come from somewhere. It makes sense that I’d be an underworlder. I just have one small problem. “Every underworlder I’ve ever met has said I’m human, and underworlders can tell.”
“You’re wearing a glamour.” Parker squints at me until he’s forced to pay attention to driving again. “It’s so strong that even now, knowing it’s there and looking for it, I can’t see it.”
“If you can’t see it, then why do you think I’m wearing one? What makes you think I’m not human?”
“Because of your blood. Glamours wrap around a person like a cloak. They hide you, but they can’t change your blood. You are an underworlder, just one I’ve never had the pleasure of tasting before. I can’t identify your species.”
I sit back in my seat and digest this. I’m an underworlder. I belong in this crazy life I’ve stumbled into. But what am I? I don’t seem to have the power that most other underworlders have. I have gifts they don’t, and I’m physically weaker, like a human. I also don’t have the built-in radar for knowing the difference between humans and others. “If I’m such a strong underworlder, then how come I’m so weak? Yeah, I have some strange psychic powers, but I don’t exactly fit in with the monster crowd.”
“A lot of underworlders are physically as weak as humans, Nora. But in your case, I believe your glamour is suppressing your power as well as hiding what you are. I think you’re a lot more powerful than you realize. Your blood would suggest it, anyway. You can’t share it with anyone ever again. No matter what.”
I grind my teeth, not liking the tone in his voice. “Don’t lecture me like I’m a child. It’s not like I plan to make a habit of it. I only fed you because I had no other choice. I stopped Henry from biting me, and Josephine wasn’t exactly my fault. I can’t help it if your friends keep trying to kill me.”
Parker sags in his seat, feeling like shit. My words were too harsh. I’m angry about the vampire attack, but I know it wasn’t Parker’s fault, and I know he feels terrible about it. “Nora,” he croaks. “I’m so sorry.”
Now he’s apologizing for things that weren’t his fault. Don’t I feel like an ass? “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’ve already forgiven you for taking me to Henry. What he tried to do, and what Josephine did, is not your fault. I don’t blame you, and I’m not mad at you. Let’s not fight.”
Parker mulls over my words before slowly reaching across the console to drop his fingers on my forearm. I’m grateful he doesn’t grab my hand. He knows how much I hate that. “You’ve really forgiven me?” he asks.
There’s no mistaking the hope in his voice. I feel bad for putting it there. I hadn’t meant to lead him on, but I’m probably the queen of mixed signals where Parker’s concerned. It’s not my fault my body and my head want different things in his case.
I shrug as indifferently as possible. “I forgave you the night I met Director West and she freed me from Henry. You were out trying to find your missing friend, and I was not only hanging out with your main suspect, but I was acting suspicious. You did what you had to. I get it. No harm, no foul.”
Parker’s murmured thank-you is so soft it quiets us both, and we finish the drive to the mall in silence. Parker keeps his hand on my forearm, and I don’t move it. I should, because it’s basically the closest thing I can get to handholding if I don’t want to spend the drive in his thoughts, but I find his light touch comforting.
When we arrive at the mall, he parks in front of Macy’s and leads me straight to the coat section. I don’t even want to know how much the coats on these racks cost. Parker doesn’t seem to care. He wastes no time heading into the clothes and holding out ones he likes. I’m not surprised the man likes to shop, considering he dresses immaculately and looks like a GQ model.
“Oh, this one is lovely.”
He holds out a red coat that is, admittedly, very stunning. I give him a look as I shake my head. “If you can describe it as lovely, it’s not the coat for me.”
He waits a moment, then decides not to argue, and reaches for a white one. “White?” I laugh. “Are you kidding? I’d ruin it in a day.”
He puts it back and reaches for the same coat in black. When he cocks his brow, I still shake my head, pointing at the waist. “Nothing with a belt. That’s just ridiculous. I belt my pants, not my coats.”
He chuckles and wanders to another rack. I stand back, watching the man shop for me with amusement. He’s got great taste, but he’s completely missing my taste. He holds up a coat that would go to my knees with a hopeful expression. “Parker. No. That’s a dress, not a coat.”
He sighs. “It’s called a skirted swing coat, and it’s very nice, Nora. Have you ever owned anything nice?”
I laugh. “I grew up in foster care in Detroit, worked in a garage changing oil and tires, and lived in the slums. What do you think? I’d probably have been shot for a coat that nice where I used to live.”
He puts the coat back but doesn’t reach for another one. “Nora…” His face falls. “You deserve so much more than the life you’ve had.”
His comment doesn’t faze me. When it’s the only life you’ve had, you get used to it. “A lot of people deserve more than they have. And plenty have more than they deserve.” I shrug. “That’s just life. No use dwelling on what could or should be. Best to learn to be happy with what you’ve got.”
He holds my eyes with a steady gaze and says, “I admire you, Nora.”
I have to look away when my cheeks flush. I’m not one of those women who can’t take a compliment, but Parker has a way of taking intensity to the extreme. “Thanks,” I mutter, grabbing the nearest coat. It’s a puffy monstrosity that I’d never wear in a million years and actually recoil from when I realize what I’m holding. “Ugh. Who would wear this?”
Parker chuckles, and I’m grateful I’ve successfully relieved the tension between us. I can handle him a lot better when his mood is light. He picks up a stylish sleek black jacket next, and I sigh. “Don’t they have anything…I don’t know…badass? Something that says stay back, before I cut a bitch?”
Parker bursts into laughter. The sound shocks me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh out loud like that. He’s normally so reserved and serious. I’m kind of proud to have broken through his composure. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t take you for the tight black leather type.”