My movements are too fast for her to track and I’m beside the bed, looking down on her before her next breath. She squeals when she finally cuts her gaze to my new position beside her, trying to scurry away like the prey she is. But I like that. And suddenly I’m grabbing her arm and wrenching her up off the bed.
Quinn and Sterling step forward, but I throw up a hand, the only warning they will get to stay back.
“Since you seem rather interested in becoming so . . .” I cock my head to the side, watching the way her neck pulses as her heart rate spikes. “Intimatewith the members of my club, I thought perhaps you’d like to tell them why you’re really here.”
“Aamon,” Sterling calls out, a quiet plea to let her go. But it only makes me grip her tighter. She squirms beneath my grasp. There’s a layer of irritation in her features, anger and frustration staring back at me as she claws my hand to get free. But I can see the other emotions too. The pain, thefear.
“Tell them,” I command again. But she doesn’t listen, fighting harder to get away.
“Fuck you,” she spits, a fire burning in her amber eyes. A fire I want desperately to stoke.
“Fine, then I will.” I discard her on the bed, her form crumpling so easily I’m suddenly all too aware of just how weak she is. “Evangeline here wasn’t just in our streets by chance,” I call out, turning back to the boys. “Isn’t that right?” I ask her, plodding on before she can reply. “No, she was brought here intentionally.” I shake my head, hating that we had played right into the trap. “Left here by her father. To infiltrate the club and feed information back to him.”
“No,” she protests. "That's not—"
“Oh yes.” I turn back to her, leaning on either post at the foot of the bedframe. “Andras told me all about how your father drove you through the ungoverned district, practically parading you for all our people to see. Before he left you at the border of the WildLands.”
“You're wrong," she seethes through gritted teeth.
“But what I don’t understand is how either of you thought you’d get away with it.” I cock my head, taking in the sight of her. It does something to me, seeing her so weak and helpless, yet still so eager to fight. My nostrils flare, eyes lighting with the hunger driving through my body. My skin feels close to on fire, bloodlust spurring my anger on.
“Aamon, please. Let’s end this.” Sterling is talking behind me again, a grating noise that has me rolling my neck to suppress the urge to react.
“You really thought you’d just be able to waltz in here, fuck us, take whatever scraps of information you’d find in the process back to your father?”
“No,” she breathes out. Tears begin to fall and she swipes them away angrily.
Good. Let her crack.
“Well, I hate to break it to you, Angel.” I rush forward, jumping on the bed to cage her in as I wrap my hand around her throat and lift her against the wall. I can feel her pulse, feel the blood flowing just beneath her translucent skin. It would be so easy to break her. To take what I want and toss her away without a second thought. I lean in and grin, intentionally revealing my fangs. “But we don’t share Order business with High Quarter whores.”
Sterling is on me in an instant, but I knew to expect him. I could feel his temper, too. I drop her and spin just in time to catch his fist and push him back over the bed and intothe wall. But Zeke is there immediately, always Sterling’s defender. He gets a punch in—the last thing I remember before my vision goes red.
I’m on him, fists flying, rage finally free. He dishes just as much as he takes. Distantly I hear screaming, crying. Something deep within me is calling out for me to end this. To shut down whatever monster within me has taken control. But all I can see is blood, and I won’t stop until it’s satisfied.
The smell of iron floods my senses and Zeke takes the opportunity to shove me off of him. I land against something firm. No, someone. And before I can protest, Quinn is wrapping his arm around me, shoving his bleeding wrist in my face.
I take it desperately, sucking down the offering. He’s in my ear, whispering something, but I can’t make out what it is. The only thing I know is this connection between me and him. My crimson lifeline. It’s all that ever exists, what I spend my entire life obsessing over. What I need, what I hate. What I can’t get enough of no matter how much I deny myself of it. No matter how much I allow myself to consume.
My entire world, my entire existence. Everything I have ever been and will ever be is blood.
I’m cowering in the corner, hand on my neck to rub away the pain Aamon’s grip left there, watching in horror as he drinks down the blood Quinn offers him. I was a fool to think I could actually be safe with these monsters.
It’s animalistic, the way he attacked me, attacked his friends. All the makings of a savage predator. He didn’t even flinch, didn’t hesitate to touch me, to hurt Sterling. To feed from Quinn. As if he was possessed by something else. My stomach turns, and I barely have time to scramble to the bathroom before hurling my guts into the porcelain bowl.
I begin to shake, my brain scrambling as I process everything Aamon said. He thinks I’m here to play spy for my father. To uncover whatever dark secrets the Blood Orderis surely hiding.
“Shh.” Sterling is behind me, holding my hair back and rubbing circles on my back as I heave into the toilet again. I gasp down breaths of hungry air when I’m through, collapsing next to the toilet. I turn and lean against the vanity to get a clear line of sight into the bedroom, not wanting my back to Aamon.
Through blurred, swimming vision, I see Aamon finally pull away from Quinn. He runs the back of his hand over his mouth, leaving behind a crimson streak. The violence in its color screams at me, begs me to run. I force my vision to focus, refusing to let my body go under. If I do, it could very well be my end.
Aamon turns his attention back on me, but Quinn clamps a hand down on his arm, not letting him get closer.
“Stay away from me,” I rasp out.
“But how else will you get your information for daddy dearest?” Aamon quips, but I can hear the exhaustion in his own voice, mirroring my own. As if the blood Quinn offered wasn’t enough. It only makes my skin go colder.
“You’re wrong,” I bite out. I can feel the adrenaline dumping into my body at an alarming rate. I blow out a steady, slow breath through my nostrils, trying to calm my racing heart. But I can tell by the way all four of them are looking at me that my efforts have failed. And it’s suddenly not just Aamon that looks hungry.
