“Your territory is Milton,” she said, pressing on anyway. Maybe he’d get talkative if she persisted. “I—we—know vampires are territorial. How long have you held it?”
He watched her impassively, the way she might watch a circling mosquito before her hand flew out to crush it in mid-air.
“You’ve fed on humans there for decades, haven’t you?”
“Chattel,” he corrected.
At least he was talking. She smiled, thin and humorless. “Those samechattelhave captured you. How many have you killed over the years?”
“Too many to count.”
Good. Keep him engaged.“Three a year? Five?”
He scoffed. “A hundred, every year. More, even.”
“How many years?”
“Why do you care,Chattel?”
She needed to hear him say it.Maybe honesty would work.“Do you know why you’re here? Why we came looking foryou?”
He went still like she’d seen vampires do before, his hands pressed against the clear wall as he watched her from between them. She had his attention now.
“I hunted you because you killed my mother.”
“No, I didn’t.” His denial was instant, and his lips twisted with something like disgust.
She stepped forward. “How long have you held Milton?”
“Longer than you’ve been alive,Chattel.”
Then it was him.“You killed my mother. That’s why you’re in that cage.”
“I told you; I didn’t.”
He was just toying with her. Why was he denying it? “You’ve killed hundreds!” She almost shouted it. “How can you claim innocence?”
His head tilted back, chin coming up, and he drawled his reply half in contempt and half in anger. “I don’t like girls,” he said, biting off every word. “Dumb fucking chattel. You’ve captured the wrong vampire.”
Cally stared at him, too shocked to move. There was no reason for him to lie, no reason to deny it. It made no difference if he admitted it or not; he was still the Order’s prisoner, and he’d boasted willingly enough about how many he’d killed.
She believed him. Besides, that reaction: the sharp, instant denial; the scorn and revulsion.
It wasn’t him.
But how could that be? Miltonwashis.
“Are you telling me you let another vampire hunt in your territory?” She made no effort to hide her disdain, still trying to provoke so that he answered.
“There’s no ‘let’.” He crossed his arms, grinning mirthlessly and letting his fangs show. “But if anoutcastwalks in, what am I to do?”
Cally fought to keep her expression neutral, even as her stomach churned.No. A coincidence, nothing more.Her mind ran in circles, and her fists clenched without conscious thought.It couldn’t be Antoine, could it? No… he already told me. Nico’s just sowing dissent.
“Does he know you’re here?” he asked, leaning closer to the glass wall of his cage. “Dotheyknow you’re Antoine’schattel?” He raised his voice, enunciating clearly. “The chattel ofAnthony Du Pont?”
The floor tilted, and only through sheer willpower did she resist the urge to swing around, checking all the corners for the cameras and microphones that the Order would have. Her mouth went dry, but all she could do was brazen it out.
“Of course they do,” she said, turning on her heel and heading for the door. She couldn’t get out fast enough. She nevershould’ve come. “Enjoy your stay, Nico. I hear the food here is excellent.”Shit… was that what they intended for my blood?
