Just when I thought I was safe,people spilled out onto the street, most wearing the same pink shirt with a pop singer’s face on the front. A concert had just let out. So much blood, excitement and exhilaration hit the air, I groaned as it washed over me. I stopped breathing, to cut off all my senses.
The metal railing bent with a screech of protest under my crushing grip. My fingers wrapped around so my nails dug into the edge of my own palms. Blood welled from the cuts, trickling down my wrist. This was a losing fight. The master had me in his power and it wasn’t a matter ofifhe would break me, but when. Hopelessness welled in me, only weakening my defenses faster.
Grim appeared, his face a furious mask. “Did you think you could get away?”
I grabbed his lapels. “Get me out of here,” I said, my voice ragged and desperate.
Hesitance replaced his fury, as if he were trying to figure out if I was trying to trick him. A pounding vein drew my attention, and my head swiveled, homing in on the exposed neck of a man walking with his girlfriend. My body shook with need. I was so cold. Frozen to my core and the warmth of that couple could save me.
Unlike the walking blood bags, tempting me with their presence, I had no desire to sink my fangs into Grim. Whatever lay beneath his skin did not entice. For that, I was grateful. Who would have guessed I’d find safety in Death’s arms?
“Right,” Grim said with some understanding. He grabbed my arm and dragged me back farther down the street, away from the crowd. I let go of his lapels and grabbed either of my arms with bruising force.
This isn’t you,I tried to tell myself. That was a hard argument when I didn’t know who I was and was ready to flip and go full feral demon.
It is you,said the master’s voice.It’s what I made you for. We can share it all.
You can take a frosted fuck off a cliff,I shouted back in my head. Despite my clever, creative, and crude comeback, the thirst was blocking my every rational sense until the primal drumming in my ears was all I heard, urging me to hunt and feed.
Grim ended a call. I wasn’t sure who he called or what he said.
“I can’t believe I’m going to win this bet.” His voice suggested he was bored.
His words somewhat penetrated the bloodlust. “What?”
“Timothy and I made a bet. He bet that you were a vampire of your word and wouldn’t lash out and hurt anyone because he claimed you were too stubborn to give into the thirst. While I said at the first sign of weakness, you would crumble and jump on a human like a rabid, wild animal.”
I hated him. I despised his condescension and superiority as he looked down his handsome nose at me. And most of all, I hated the safety I found in his company. He was the only one who couldn’t tempt me into murderous violence. Well, his blood didn’t, but the way Grim treated me pushed me to the edge. Still, I decided if I would jump over that cliff or not.
“You’re not Death,” I growled. “You’re the devil. Sent here to torture me.”
A bemused smile lifted one side of his sensual lips. “Funny, I could say the same about you.”
I was about to launch into all the ways I planned to torture him—one involved a car battery and a watermelon—when a sleek black limo pulled up to the curb. It now blocked the way between me and all the people. Exhaust from the engine cut through the scent of tantalizing blood as Grim walked over and opened the door.
Earlier I would have cut off my arm rather than go back to be his little vampire bait, but now there wasn’t anywhere safer than under his watch. I stomped my way to the limo and pretended not to be grateful to climb into the rear of the long vehicle. A closed window separated us from the human driver.
Grim’s phone rang. He answered, bringing up video of Timothy’s face. “Did you receive the car alright?”
I could have sworn he meant to ask “in time” but that might have been me projecting.
“Yes, thank you, Timothy,” Grim said, sparing a quick glance at me.
“Please tell Ms. Vivien I already have a mug of blood warming up for her, and I instructed the driver to bring you up through the back entrance via the garage.”
“Thank you, Timothy.” Grim’s words were gruff, then he ended the call.
The grip the master had on me was slipping, and I could feel his frustration through our psychic connection. Each passing minute we drove in the opposite direction of wherever the master was, the more I gained control over my body, though the thirst remained. I was so cold, so hungry, I wondered if ice crystals had formed in the marrow of my bones.
Don’t fight what you are,the master’s words snaked through my mind one last time.
I didn’t bother answering, instead opting to lean my forehead against the glass window and shut my eyes. At least now, I knew I wouldn’t end up murdering anyone.
“What did you bet?” I asked.
“Pardon?”
“What did you and Timothy bet for?” I finally turned to look at him.
