Page 56 of Dancing With Demons

I frowned at his frown, confusion crumpling my jaw. “—about?” I finished, lowering my voice. “How did you know where I was?”

“Honey, you wound me. I always know where you are, what you’re doing, and who you’re with.” Radu said that so brightly, it took a full ten seconds for the hairs on my neck to rise.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.

A tidal wave of notifications went off in my ear. I pulled my phone away to check, and my jaw dropped to the floor.

Photo after photo of me, me, and more me hit the screen one after the other. Me sitting next to Dora in History of Hell. Me sitting on the library floor waiting for the shade. Me brushing my teeth. And me that very morning, walking to the mess hall.

“—incredible this morning,” he was saying when I stuck the phone back to my ear. “Thank Edward that demon changed up your wardrobe. You’re even more delectable now,” he hissed. “I could just. Eat. You. Up.”

I swallowed hard, shrinking lower in my seat. “What is this?” I whispered. “Is this a threat?”

“A threat?” Radu sounded genuinely surprised. “Why would I threaten you? You feed me, I protect you. We have an agreement much too mutually beneficial to sour with threats, honey.”

He had a point.

“What is with this honey stuff?” I snapped instead. “Since when do you do pet names?”

“Ah, forgive me, but I can’t resist. Every time I say it, it brings up the most pleasant memories. You truly do taste honey sweet.”

“Wait, I do?” My interest piqued despite myself. “My blood tastes like honey? Does everyone’s blood taste like honey to vampires?”

“No, as it happens. Blood tastes like the finest nectar to all vampires, yes, but the flavor is as different as the people. Some taste tart. Some sweet. Some smooth and sharp like a good whiskey. And others playfully saccharine like cotton candy.

“No, it’s not your blood,” he went on, “it’s your pussy that tastes like honey.”

Eyes bugging, my cheeks caught fire.

“Not like any kind of honey,” the lunatic pervert breezed on. “It’s a rich, fruity sweetness with a deep profile and citrusy undertones—”

“What the hell are you, a connoisseur!” I was ducked down so low, I was practically under the table. “Who asked for the full description!”

“Who are you talking to?” Ronin demanded, stealing my attention.

“I... uh...” My first instinct was to lie to him, although I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like I needed to hide anything. “It’s Professor Radu.”

“Hang up.”

“I—”

Radu dragged my attention back. “What I’m trying to tell you, my Charlotte, is that I’ve come around to your way of thinking. At first, I didn’t think we should have a sexual relationship. You’re twenty-two-year-old food, after all. It’s like naming the cute little piglet you plan to slaughter. Morbid.”

What I wouldn’t give to punch this guy in the face.

“But after pleading, and begging, and beating me for sex while I fed—”

“I did that because you drugged me!”

“—I was left conflicted.” Radu went on like I hadn’t spoken. “Yes, I’m centuries older than you, and yes, our relationship is forbidden, but if a creature as beautiful and tasty as you stirs equal fire in my loins as you do in my belly, what right do I have to deny either thirst,” he said. “It wasn’t until I broke in your room that—”

“Excuse me?” I sliced in. “You broke into my room? When! Why?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he replied. “It wasn’t for a weird reason. I only broke in to steal a pair of your undergarments to smell while I masturbated.”

I almost fell off the chair. What the fuck is this guy’s definition of weird?!

“But you see, honey, that’s when I knew,” he said excitedly. “The pleasure that I felt as I ejaculated in my palm to your sweet, musky, addictive aroma was equal to the satisfaction I feel when you feed me. It’s clear to me now that I want both your body and your body, Charlotte Hunter, so you win. You needn’t beat me for what’s yours anymore, my love. I am yours wholly and absolutely.”