Page 147 of Blood Lovers

Paul.

“Are you ready now?”

I straighten up. Gather myself. It’s not fear I’m trying to push away. It’s uncertainty. Because I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what comes next. I have not been properly prepared for this role I’m playing. I force the bravado. “Depends, I guess. On what you expect me to do.”

“Do?” Paul chuckles, his eyes bright with mischief. “You have performed like a champion, love. Now it’s time to get your promise.”

I scoff. “Ya know what? Whatever it is, I don’t want it.”

“Don’t you?” He walks into the clearing, his fancy polished shoes crunching in the snow.

I make myself stay still. Not take a step back as he comes up to me, so close I have to tip my head up to look him in the face. I have never noticed just how looming he can be. I’m not a short woman, either. I’m actually pretty tall. And my eyes only come up to his shoulders.

He pushes a piece of hair away from my eyes and I get this clenching feeling in my gut. A feeling that’s new to me, but also familiar.

Because it’s the feeling you get when you realize you’ve been lied to.

He is tender, yes. But only when he’s lying.

“I have not lied to you.”

And he’s soft too. But only when he wants something.

“You’re wrong, Syrsee. I have already gotten what I need from you.” He places the flat palm of his hand against my cheek and strokes me like I’m his lover. “All I want to do now is pay you for your troubles.”

I want to throw up. The muscles of my stomach tighten, ready to do this, but I close my eyes and force it down. Because he’s right about one thing—he’s not lying now. This is a transaction to him. My blood for… “What do I get?”

“Depends on how long you would like to play.”

“I don’t want to play at all.”

“You would like to leave.”

“Will you let me?”

“Let you? I told you, Syrsee, you’re not my prisoner. You are here of your own free will.”

I mean, technically, he’s right. I agreed to all of it. But it was a trick, too. Because if he had spelled this all out in the beginning, he knows I would’ve said no.

“You would not have said no. You love him.”

He points over my shoulder and I see that the baby is gone. The fur it was lying in has fallen to the snow. And in its place is Ryet, sitting on the fallen tree trunk, hands bracing himself so he doesn’t fall over. His head is hanging forward and his wild, dark hair covering his face. He’s naked, and shivering, and his teeth are chattering.

“Remember how hot he was?”

I look back up at Paul and nod.

“Well, now he’s not. He’s changing, Syrsee. And if you want to walk away, you’re free to go. We have some blood saved. I’ll find you when I need you again. In fact, I would prefer that you walk away. He’s mine, after all. Not yours. And it’s going to take time for him to adjust to his new… well”—Paul smiles, lifting his hands up in a shrug—“his new everything.”

I scoff again. “Do you really think I’ll fall for that?”

“For what? The truth?”

“Maybe it is the truth. But it’s some kind of reverse psychology bullshit. It’s not even letting me go. In the same sentence you tell me I am free, and then that you’ll come find me when you need to bleed me out.”

Paul laughs. “Do you want to hear my promise or not?”

“Whatever.”