It was like magic. Jade sat up, the fear in her eyes slowly dissipating, pure rage filling her up instead. Her cheeks reddened and she cleared her throat. “It’s Jade Moretti,asshole.”
Seething, she held my gaze, oscillating somewhere between anger and panic, awakening a deep desire in me: I wanted to make herlivid. Fuck her and the whole Moretti name!
“Does your daddy know you’re in Miami, Jade?” I posed another question, my stare lingering on the way her plump bottom lip fell open again in surprise.
“Yes.” Her eyebrows came together in confusion. “He knows.”
Instead of lighting up at the mention of her father, all that fight and fire drained from her, and green-eyed Jade trembled in the chair, barely able to take a breath. And then she gasped, her eyes widening and her shimmery chest heaving. She tried to breathe in, but instead she squeaked, dropping her head.
“She’s hyperventilating. Give her something to breathe into.” Andrei’s sage advice sounded from behind me. I did the only thing I could think of: I clasped my hand over her mouth and nose, sliding my fingers into her soft hair and holding her head, letting her restore the balance in her lungs.
“Shh, shh. Just relax. We’re not going to hurt you.”
Her gaze found mine and tears streamed into her hairline, and I thought this was it—she’d calm down now.
But I was so fucking wrong.
Sharp pain exploded between my thumb and index finger right as that incorrect thought slipped out of my mind.
I looked down at my hand to see her incisors piercing my skin, the look in her eyes unhinged and daring.
She fucking bit me.
2
Taste of Blood
Jade
The car sped into the unknown, darkness and someone’s arms enveloping me whole. It smelled of cigarettes, car, and—what fucking language were they speaking? Who was bold enough to kidnap a U.S. Attorney’s daughter? Because my status was stuck to me like a scarlet letter—Sebastian Moretti’s daughter.
But then a sudden and petrifying thought ran through me: maybe this was Xavier's doing. A heartbroken and unstable ex-boyfriend was a dangerous thing, and I was probably incredibly stupid to even show my face outside the house so quickly.
Yet when I saw my tormentors, it all clicked in—I was on my own. I’d never seen these men before. One was blond, dressed like a finance bro about to ask me about my portfolio, and the other one…well, the other one looked like he gambled with people’s lives for fun.
Overwhelmingly tall, jet black hair and clothes, tattoos on his arms and hands, and a glare that incinerated me whole. But the joke was on him—I was already on fire, barely comprehending my own actions.
So when he smothered me like that, when he put his fingers over my mouth, when he showed mehewas the one who decided when I would take my next breath, well then…then I bit him.
Warm, salty liquid slithered onto my tongue, the taste metallic and unpleasant. The dark-haired devil man stiffened and squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth falling open in a silent scream of pain. I bit harder, wedging my incisors into the soft part of his tattooed hand, his fingers still tangled in my hair.
But his moment of weakness was short-lived. His jaw flexed and he regained his composure immediately, yanking my hair back and ripping my teeth off his flesh.
A half-second later, his face was an inch away from mine, his glare promising murder, matching the storm inside me. “You’ll fucking pay for that, you bitch!”
His eyes blazed and his nostrils flared, but it didn’t feelenough. I wanted more; I wanted to show him I wasn’t his fucking prey. What was he going to do? Bite me back?
My adrenaline was numbing me to the danger staring me in the face. "Ew. Your blood tastes spoiled."
He tightened his grip on my hair and got even closer, lowering his voice. “You run your moutha lot.” His gaze fell to my mouth while I dragged my teeth over my bottom lip, sucking in his blood. “It’s best you learn how to shut—"
But I didn’t let him finish. As if it were an out-of-body experience, Ispat.
Right in his face.
The effect was instantaneous. The demon shuddered at the action, his shock turning him human for a millisecond. He stared at me and I at him, watching my saliva slide down his Adam’s apple.
“What were you saying?” I whispered, determined to have the upper hand in this nightmare. “Does my father know I’m inMiami? He does. Want to come over for dinner? You’ll bring the zip ties?”
