Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
A breath of revulsion comes out through my nose. And I’m frowning. And angry. And scared. And—
“Stop it! Right now!”
Paul’s sharp words shock me and I jump. But just before I do that, I notice that the perimeter wall of the tower room is hazy with a climbing lavender mist.
“Do you hear me?” Paul has grabbed my arm and he’s shaking me now. “Stop it!”
“Stop what?” I jerk my arm from his grip, or try to, but he’s got a good hold of me. “What are you talking about?”
He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he turns to Echo. “Get out, Echo. And don’t come back.” Echo bows and scurries back the way we came just as Paul is turning to Lucia. “Open the cabinet and get it all ready. She needs to be put down immediately before this goes any further.”
“What are you talking about?” I say it louder, struggling harder.
“Yes, my lord.” Lucia’s sudden deferential submission is clear in her response.
Which is scary now. Because I don’t understand what’s happening. But I do understand the words ‘put down.’ “What—”
Paul yanks my arm so hard, I stop my objection so I can wince at the pain. And that’s what I see what’s inside the armoire because Lucia has opened it up.
She wheels out an IV stand with an empty bag on it. An IV line is all ready, and a moment later she’s coming at me as she rips the sterile paper off a needle, making it glint in the amber glow of the tiny flickering fires all around me.
“No!” I look up at Paul. “You said I was for Ryet! You said—”
That’s as far as I get because he has pushed me up against the stone wall with such force, the air comes rushing out of my lungs in a desperate gasp.
Paul put his hand flat against my throat like he’s about to choke the life out of me. And then he leans down, his mouth angry, his eyes red—fully red, the way Ryet’s were that morning he was sick. And Paul says, in a low growl, “Do not. Cross me. If you fight me—”
And then he bites me. Right on the lip. A flash, his mouth, his teeth, and then—blood.
He pulls back and something has replaced my anger. Something like… lust.
Blood lover.
These words float around him as purple letters. Lingering in the air, undulating like they are made of the same mist that calls my dreamwalk. And I go absolutely still.
He backs off, breathing deeply, smiling now. “That’s better.” He places a hand on my cheek. “Be a good girl, Syrsee.” He croons this at me. Then he leans in and all I see is his mouth. His lips. And then he kisses me, tasting my blood and moaning a little.
I shrink back, repulsed, but also turned on.
When he pulls away, he’s laughing and barking orders to Lucia. “Get her ready. Ryet will be here soon and he will need to feed.”
“My lord. How much should I take?” Yes, Lucia is much, much more submissive now than she was downstairs. Maybe it’s because Echo is gone and there are no other subordinates to see her like this. Or maybe she really is afraid of him.
“Just enough to put her down. And Lucia?” Paul pauses until she looks him in the eyes. “Do not drink her.”
“Of course not, Paul. Of course not.”
The vampire Paul looks at Lucia for a long moment. His face does not betray his expression but I sense that he is calling her a liar in his head.
But then he nods. “Of course not.” And turns. And leaves.
Lucia waits for several more seconds, probably listening to his retreating footsteps. Then she turns to me and smiles. I hadn’t noticed the fangs, but there they are. Sharp, too. Pointy and thin. Almost elegant. “Now.” She smooths out an invisible wrinkle in her satin dress and tips her chin up. “Would you like to be eaten tonight, dear Syrsee? Or would you like to take door number two?”
“Door number two, please.”
“Good call.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE - RYET
I shall not find it.
Images are flashing through my mind. Paul. Syrsee. Blood.
I was feeding on her. I was, right? My mind is so muddled. I’m so confused.
Where am I?
A sign for a scenic overlook flashes by and then up ahead I can see the pullout. Needing time, I pull the truck into it, park on the side of the highway, and just sit with my forehead on the steering wheel as I play back what happened in the conservatory.
Cars and trucks are passing by, making my truck rock. I squint at the sign where I’ve pulled over. A scenic route I’m familiar with. I’m not that far from home.
Home.
Paul’s place is not home. Not the one I had, nor the one I have.
A sharp pain shoots through my temple and with it comes a flashing image. A woman. Not Syrsee, because she’s too small and slight. Syrsee is tall and curvy. But this woman shares some features with her. The eyes, for one. Green. Like a witch’s. Like Lucia’s.