The sound of a tiny sigh reached my ears. "Zorya, there is a dead rat in the far bin."
"Very funny. What are we going to do?" I was almost glad it was dark in the room, so Kristoff wouldn't see the tears of frustration and self-pity welling in my eyes.
"Christ, you're not going to cry, are you?"
"No, of course not. I'm not the crying sort," I said with a betraying wet sniffle, defiantly wiping my eyes. "It's just that it's been kind of a long last couple of days, and I'm a bit tired and stressy."
He didn't say anything to that, but he didn't need to.
I rocked myself, feeling absolutely pathetic at that moment. I'd failed miserably in trying to do what Anniki had begged of me before she died, failed in getting the ghosts to their final reward, failed trying to make the Brotherhood people see reason. And now Alec and Kristoff were likely going to be subjected to the clearly insane Kristjana's most demented tortures, and there was only myself to blame. I'd botched the whole thing horribly, and I wanted nothing more at that moment than to go home and cry for a week or two.
Kristoff sighed again, this time loudly and aggressively. "Come here."
I swallowed the painful lump in my throat. "Why?"
"Because you're miserable and I can't stand the sound of you sniffling over there." His voice was gruff and abrupt, but there was an underlying note that had me carefully moving forward without questioning why I sought comfort from him.
"Sit down," he commanded.
"I'm not touching those bins again—"
He swore in Italian. "Sit on me, woman."
My fingers brushed against his chest. "I'll squash you—"
"Sit!"
I swiveled around to sit across his legs, swearing that if he made one little intake of breath that indicated I was smashing his legs into a pulp, I'd leap off.
All he said, however, was, "I can't pat you in a suitably calming manner, but you can consider yourself patted. Now, stop crying."
"Why are you being nice to me?" I asked, blinking like crazy to keep the tears from spilling over my lashes.
"Would you rather I yelled at you?"
"No. I'd rather you answered a question."
"What?"
"Why did Kristjana keep referring to me as Alec's Beloved? I told her we weren't dating, so even if she knew that Alec and I had spent the night together, that doesn't constitute a relationship."
Kristoff was silent for a few moments, reluctant to speak. I relaxed on him a smidgen, refusing to allow myself to admit just how much I enjoyed breathing in his smoky scent.
I didn't want Kristoff, I reminded myself. It was Alec who indicated he loved me, Alec who clearly felt I was something more than a pest to be endured.
"My people have a long history," Kristoff finally said. "Males can be either Dark Ones or what are generally referred to as just Moravians—men born with a soul, but still needing blood to survive."
"You really don't have a soul?" I asked, amazed at such a thing.
"No. I was born with one, but lost it. The only redemption is to find a Beloved, a woman who will take the seven steps of Joining and, in doing so, will return a soul to the Dark One."
"You lost your soul? How can you lose a soul? I mean, it's not something you can misplace easily, is it?"
"It is if another Dark One strips it from you."
I gawked at him despite the fact that I couldn't see anything. "Another vampire turned you? I thought you said that doesn't happen often."
"It doesn't. My circumstances were… unique."
I waited for him to continue, but he didn't. "You're not going to tell me about it, are you?"
"No."
I sighed. "All right. Where are these women you mentioned? The Beloveds?"
I felt him shrug. "They can be anywhere, at any time. There is only one Beloved for a Dark One, and if their paths do not cross, there is no other. At least… One of the members of the council claims his Beloved was not the woman born to that role, but I am not privy to all the details, so I can't say if that's just a rumor or not."
"Good lord. So if you're in the wrong place at the wrong time, and this soul-redeeming woman gets married to someone else, and spends her life without knowing you…" Profound sadness leeched into the air. "Oh, Kristoff, I'm so sorry. The Brotherhood killed your girlfriend, the one who was going to do that for you. I didn't blame you before for being so determined to have justice done, but now I feel even more horrible about it."
"Angelica was not my Beloved."
I could feel his grief, feel the anger that filled him when he thought about her. Without thinking, I put my arms around him and pressed his head to me, wanting to comfort him as he'd given me comfort. "She wasn't? How do you know?"
"I'd know," he said, somewhat muffled since his face was pressed into my cleavage.
"How? Is there some sign? Because if I'm supposed to redeem Alec's soul for him, I'm going to need some help. I don't have the slightest idea how to do that."
Kristoff froze for a moment, then relaxed, his face moving slightly against me.
"What are you doing? Are you sniffing me?" I asked, pushing myself back.
"Yes. Beloveds smell."
"They what?"
I stared down at where his face was, even though I couldn't see so much as a glint from those lovely blue eyes.
"Beloveds, when claimed, have a different scent. It's… Some have described it as unpleasant. I've never found it particularly so, but they do definitely smell different than other females."
"You're saying I stink?" I said, jumping off his lap.
"No, you don't, you smell… It doesn't matter. You don't smell like the other Beloveds I've met."
"I honestly don't know whether to be offended or grateful," I said, stumbling back until I felt the rough stone wall behind me. I sank down onto the floor, feeling it was better to put some distance between Kristoff and myself. Sitting on his lap had brought up far too many memories, memories that for Alec's sake I should squelch.
"You should be grateful. Once a couple has Joined, they are bound for life."
"Joining requiring some steps, you said?" I was curious as to what, exactly, made one a Beloved.
"Yes."
"I'm probably going to regret this, but what, exactly, are they? Maybe I'm like partway to being Alec's Beloved, and that's what Kristjana picked up on?"
"Or she could just be jumping to conclusions."
"True. What are the steps?"
"Nothing very profound. The first is a marking. That can mean anything from the ability to share thoughts without verbal communication, to being able to sense things that were hidden before."
"You can share thoughts? You mean like mental telepathy?"
"Yes. It is not unknown for Dark Ones who are very close to do so, and it is always the way with a Beloved."
"Wow. Interesting. Still, that first step sounds pretty vague," I said, thinking about how I knew Alec was hungry and needed blood. Or had that been Kristoff?
"Second step is protection from some sort of a danger."
"Alec sacrificed himself for me earlier, in the restaurant," I said, but the image that flashed into my mind was of Kristoff turning to face me after he'd killed the man who'd held a knife to my throat.
"Third is an exchange of the body."
I raised my eyebrows.
Kristoff's voice held a slight note of amusement. "More like a kiss than what you're thinking."
I blushed despite the darkness.
"Fourth is an issue of trust—will the Beloved betray the Dark One or keep his faith?"
I moved uncomfortably on the cold dirt floor. I wouldn't perform on Alec and Kristoff whatever horrible ceremony the Brotherhood folk wanted. I just wouldn't.
"Fifth is another exchange of the body. Yes, your night with Alec would qualify." His voice ceased to be amused, and was back to being hard and flinty.