Page 140 of The Donor’s Dilemma

He twisted her arm again, hard enough that her vision blurred.

“Where’s the stuff you stole?”

She laughed, a little hysterically, given the circumstances. It was laugh or cry, and she’d be damned if she cried in front of this man.

“Why would I have it?” she managed. “I’m not the one going to see Petra.”

Chapter Forty

“For the millionth time,” Theo said, sick of the sound of his own voice, “I only recognised one, his name is Kane Goodwin. I don’t remember anything after that.”

The officer nodded and wrote it down as if it were the first time Theo had told him, not the twentieth. One of the newer vampires on the force, judging by his patches. Theo didn’t recognise him, and his patience for this particular brand of officiousness was wearing thin.

“Just need to get the facts straight, sir.”

“You can ask me later,” Theo said, already turning to find Verity, when Stella appeared at his elbow.

“Speech,” she said, thrusting the pre-written pages into his hands. He levelled a look at her that few people would dare give Stella. She rolled her eyes.

“Just get it over with.”

She was right. This was Verity’s event, and if everything went to plan, the only thing people would remember of this night was the festival itself. Theo wanted that. He wanted humans and vampires looking back on this evening with fondness, remembering the songs, the children playing, the first time in human memory they’d walked side by side. He wanted it to be perfect.

He’d make it perfect for her.

He checked his watch. Two minutes.

“Fine,” he told Stella, who hurried off to check the microphone. He straightened his suit, glanced over the speech one more time, turned back to the crowd, and found Vivienne at his side.

“Good luck with the speech,” she said, voice sickly sweet, the smile on her face never quite reaching her eyes. Something in it pulled at a cold thread deep in his chest. He scanned the crowd, the steps. There, stood in front of City Hall was Petra, Jesse, and no sign of Verity.

His heart, pointless as it was, hammered. He turned back to Vivienne.

“Make it a good one,” she said. “Light. Positive. The kind of thing people want to hear.” She paused, smiling wider. “Because if it isn’t, I don’t think you’ll be seeing that little donor of yours again.”

The words landed like a blow, all the air leaving his lungs at once. He took a step toward her.

“Where is she?”

Vivienne only smiled, hands clasped behind her back, rocking on her heels like the cat that got the cream. “She’s fine, I’m sure, just needs to let tonight happen. So do you.” Her tone shifted, something colder underneath the sweetness. “There’s a natural order to these things, Theo. The fact that you parade her around as though she could ever be one of us...” She shook her head. “She’s nothing. She’ll be gone in the blink of an eye, and you’ll find somebody else, and somebody else after that, and so on. Doesn’t it get boring? All this monotony, sitting in that dank little office of yours, waiting for something to happen? No wonder the only person you could find to love you was your donor.” She stepped closer, patting his chest once. “Have a little fun. Live a little. What’s life without a bit of sport?”

She tilted her head, considering him. “A couple of weeks, and all this Vital Exchange nonsense will be over. You can have a full belly again. Drink your fill.” Her smile widened. “Until then, I think I’ll keep an eye on the girl. Who knows, maybe without a donor, you’ll be the first to break.”

“If you hurt her… I’ll…”

Vivienne laughed, full and unbothered. “No, you won’t.” She turned and walked toward City Hall, where Jesse and Petra stood watching. Theo stared at his brother, certain terror was written plainly across his face. Jesse moved, one step, and Petra raised her hand. One hand. That was all it took. Jesse froze where he stood.

Of course he did. One didn’t get to choose when, or whether, to obey their maker. The impulse was beyond resistance.

Theo turned away, scanning the crowd for anyone, anything, that might help, and found only Stella, holding out a microphone.

“All yours,” she said.

The speech. He looked down at the pages in his hand and the words refused to focus. He wasn’t sure he could speak at all.

Keep it light, he told himself. Keep it light and positive, and Verity will be okay.

The words felt treacherous even inside his own head, downplaying what was happening, what was unfolding right now somewhere beyond his sight. If it were his own life on the line, he wouldn’t have cared what he said. But it wasn’t. It was hers. He couldn’t risk his Verity.