Of course, her initial train of thought was what had sent him catapulting out of the pool to silence her. Something about yesterday had Mencheres so spooked, he refused to discuss it with her. Was it simply that he'd been so close to being eaten by ghouls? Did he not want to remember how helpless he'd been? He hadn't seemed embarrassed about it yesterday when she'd first woken up, but maybe that changed. Delayed traumatic reaction, or something similar. She'd had experience with that before.
Either way, it was clearly a delicate subject, and though all her investigative instincts were burning with curiosity, she wanted her freedom more. It seemed common sense that keeping in Mencheres's good graces was directly related to his letting her go, so she'd drop the subject of his bewildering failure to free himself before. Getting back to her life was more important than finding out why a frighteningly powerful vampire had almost died at the hands of several ghouls that he'd later killed without even needing to touch them.
"You said that I could call my sister," Kira reminded him, changing the subject.
He rose with the same quicksilver grace that all his movements seemed to have. "So I did. Come."
Mencheres held out his hand, and Kira took it, letting him draw her to her feet. She glanced down at her borrowed shirt and pants, feeling them stick to her in places from the pool water Mencheres had dripped onto her.
He held out his towel without the slightest hesitation that it was the only thing covering him. "Please, use this."
Just like when she'd dangled from that rope outside the house, Kira told herself not to look down. "Ah, no thanks. I think you need it more than I do."
His mouth quirked again, as if he were fighting back a smile. Kira felt that touch of surrealism once more. She couldn't really be standing by a pool next to a naked vampire who was offering her his towel so she could blot her damp jeans and shirt, could she? So much of what had happened in the past thirty-some hours had a dreamlike quality to it. All she needed to make this scenario more unbelievable would be for leprechauns to come somersaulting out of the nearby garden.
Or for the gorgeously bare vampire to give her a sensual massage while feeding her peeled grapes. Then she'd know this was a dream. But because Mencheres was belting the long towel back around his waist instead of throwing it to the ground while he went in search of fruits and scented oils, Kira supposed this was reality. A bizarre, sometimes terrifying, sometimes titil ating reality, but reality nonetheless.
And her memories of it would only be temporary. In some ways, that was the strangest part of this whole thing. How could she simply not remember any of this in a week?
Wouldn't some lingering knowledge remain? Like, she'd experience deja vu whenever she saw a vampire movie in the future?
"There is no need for you to be concerned," Mencheres said quietly. "Your life will continue on without any ill effects from this experience."
"Are you able to read my mind now?" Kira asked, feeling embarrassment rise.
"Because if so, about that massage . . ."
His brow ticked upward. "I still cannot read your thoughts, but your scent and expression led me to surmise that you were thinking about your future. I would, however, like to hear about the massage."
"I've, um, got a kink in my shoulder," Kira said, glancing away.
A soft laugh. "Humans emit a distinct scent when they lie, and you, Kira, smell of that scent now."
Kira turned back around with a challenging look. He wanted the truth? All right, then.
Mencheres might be a powerful vampire; but she was a grown woman, so she wasn't about to act like a timid, blind virgin.
"Dead or not, you must be bored with women telling you how you look like the hottest, most exotic wet dream they've ever had. No wonder the thought of you, grapes, and some scented massage oils crossed my mind - and if you drop that towel again, I'm going to need a cold shower."
Kira expected a smug smile in return. Maybe a knowing glance down and a wink, too.
But Mencheres's expression could only be described as . . . surprised. Then it became carefully blank.
"You know nothing about me."
She stiffened. Was that his way of telling her she was shallow? Oh please, he'd flaunted his looks by walking around naked - now she was cheap because she'd noticed them?
"Don't worry. I think Mount Everest is gorgeous, too, but that doesn't mean I have any intention of trying to climb it."
"I do not understand this analogy," Mencheres muttered.
Kira let out a sigh. "Let's just keep this subject in the same 'do not discuss' category you want your actions yesterday under."
Pinpoints of green flared in his charcoal-colored eyes, reminding Kira that what she'd said was akin to yanking a tiger by the tail. But for the strangest reason, Kira wasn't afraid of Mencheres. He might be a predator who could kill her with laughable ease, but Mencheres also had an aura of complete control about him. Even when he'd leapt from the pool to shush her, she'd been startled, but every instinct said he wouldn't break his promise not to harm her.
Although, if he hadn't given his word about that, Kira would be terrified of him. All that astonishing ability combined with an iron will made Mencheres more than deadly - it practically made him a force of nature. Someone who could rip the heads off other supernatural creatures without using his hands, who could heal her life-threatening injury, could fly, and make her forget that any of it had happened? Mencheres might not frighten her as much as he should, but knowing that power like his existed was scary.
What if all vampires could do the same things he could, but they weren't as disciplined as Mencheres about not killing humans? The ghouls yesterday would've made lunch out of both of them, so clearly, not all supernaturals operated under a strict moral code.
Those missing-person case files with strange stories attached to them flashed in Kira's mind. What if those disappearances weren't just related to sinister human activity but something else?
Kira glanced up to see Mencheres studying her with palpable intensity. Was he trying to see into her mind again? Was he succeeding? She almost hoped he was. If he could read her thoughts, then erasing her memory couldn't be far behind, which meant she could go home.
"Any luck tuning in?" she asked.
He blinked once before turning away. An invisible shield seemed to drop over him, covering him in aloofness as if it were a three-piece suit.
"I hear nothing."
Damn. "Let me call my sister, then. And don't worry - you don't need to remind me not to say anything to her about vampires."