His croaking rattlesnake rasp pooled nausea in my guts, but I had plenty of practice shoving down the heinous memories of his teeth at my neck, so I kept my chin up and played the game the best I could. I sat with head down, demure and quiet, looking as small as I could make myself as I secretly scoured my surroundings for a good makeshift weapon.
“You must be thirsty. A drink?” he asked, climbing down from the throne and brushing his palm across a nearby table laden in liquor bottles and blood cocktails.
I needed water—my mouth and throat were so dry I was struggling to swallow—but I appeased him, figuring it might steady my hand and my nerves if I got a chance to either fatally strike Conrad or escape.
“A very large vodka with plenty of ice, please.”
Conrad sniggered as he clinked a bottle of vodka free from the glass huddle, cracking open the top. “Picked up some naughty habits, have you?” He poured a large measure into a jewel-encrusted metal chalice and plopped in one snowball-sized ice cube.
He swirled the chalice’s contents in his hand, staying beside the table. “I’ll say this only once. Try to escape, and I’ll have the coven surgeon amputate your feet. Try to whack me over the head when my back’s turned, it’ll be your hands. Talk too much shit and it’s your tongue. See the pattern?”
I gulped. If anyone was psychotic enough to cut off somebody’s body parts to make a point, it was Conrad. I decided to shift mystrategy a little. He was a slave to his ego. Appeal to that vanity, and he’d be narcissistic enough to believe it.
I bowed my head. “I understand. I won’t resist.”
“Good girl,” he sneered as he handed me the heavy, steel chalice.
I guzzled one big mouthful of the cool vodka but pretended to take a few more gulps. Let him expect me to get sloppy.
The liquor traveled a fiery trail down my throat, but when it hit my stomach, it erupted into an intense blaze that spread with wildfire speed out through my limbs, taking me aback. The sensation reminded me of the night I’d spent with Bryce, his body over mine, our skin flushed with a uniquely volcanic passion.
I took another experimental sip, senses hyperaware, and saw every candle flare up at once, burning brighter as the heat spread again through to my fingertips and toes. Parched, I licked at the giant ice cube, watching carefully as the flames simmered down again. Interesting.
When I next glanced up at Conrad, I caught him enraptured, a sickening lust in his face as he watched my tongue circle the ice. My skin scrawled, but I kept going, never breaking his stare.
“You’ve learned several new things since we last met, haven’t you?”
I nodded, seeing my chance. “Sure. Lots of things. But you’re more interested in upgrading your impressive powers, right?”
He ran a gray tongue across glistening fangs. “Ordinarily, I’d agree. But you do suck thatballrather nicely…”
“Well, turns out, they’re sort of one and the same…” Another gulp of liquor, and my blood bubbled, the candles’ flames inching upwards and outwards the more the fires within me rose. I drew the cup away and lounged back, not wanting to cool whatever power was flowing across me in lava-like waves. Bryce had once said he feared his “curse” was transferable. Maybe it was. But it had never hurt me. Maybe I’d been absorbing more and more of it, the closer we became.
Yet another gift from my Bry.
Conrad leaned forward, forehead scrunched. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, my ‘lovers,’ as you call them, all have new gifts. Not quite as impressive as your invisibility… or walking on water. That is what you did that night you took me outside your lab, right?” I dropped my voice into a throaty tenor as I said “took.”
“Yes.” His pupils broadened, swallowing the irises like a shark, and the growing candleflames danced inside them. “I knew it. Your blood enhances paranormals.”
I nodded.
“Are you saying you can give these gifts on purpose?” He leaned back, eyes roving as if lost in thought. “Perhaps you have a bit of Fae in you.” His voice dropped to a thoughtful whisper. “Winterborn’s magic let me share the invisibility for a time.”
I shrugged, drawing his attention back. “I can’t control what power I give. I think the powers you get are based on your own internal prowess.” I tried to sound impressed and let my eyes trail up from his feet to his face, as if seeing potential in every line. “And I don’t know about Fae magic, but I can share my power through physical intimacy, not just blood feeding.”
He reeled back, suspicion hardening his jaw. “And why would you tell me something like that? Think I’m an idiot, do you?”
Oh shit. “No.” I feigned a sob with my head hanging low. “I just want you to know, you don’t have to hurt me to get it.” I blinked watery eyes at him. “You can be gentle with me instead.”
He arched an eyebrow, and then a lecherous hunger softened his body language until he swayed toward me like a charmed snake. “Perhaps I can learn to be gentle.” His words were slow, swathed in frost as he growled, “But that depends on what other gifts you can give me.”
I swallowed more from the vodka, and to my amazement, asthe fired blood passed through my arms, I saw steam rise off my skin in subtle wisps.
“Most develop over time, but I think there’s one I can give you right now. You have tattoos, right?” I asked, knowing damn well his whole body was coated in them. Skulls, guns, blades, skeletons, snakes, you name something nasty, he had it inked on his skin.
“What of it?”
