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“I’m pretty sure people underestimating you is a good thing.”
“Really?” He leans back in his chair and raises an eyebrow. But I still can’t make out his eyes. Why does he have to make this so difficult? That just isn’t fair. “Underestimating someone tends to lead to silly mistakes. Ones you wouldn’t normally make. Surely that’s in the understimatee’s favour?” I point out, getting a satisfied smirk for an answer. The smug bastard.
But I kind of like that. He’s open and honest about it all. Which isn’t normal in this day and age. Most people just don’t give a shit anymore.
“Are you trying to tell me you didn’t doubt your capabilities before entering the house yesterday?”
“Well...erm…” I wish I could deny he’s right. But I think we both know the truth. Then again, I’d be crazy if I hadn’t doubted myself. Ten to one is crazy odds. Even for me.
“I reckon you could have taken them, if you hadn’t doubted yourself so much,” he says. Funny thing is, he looks serious. It’s crazy to think someone I’ve never met before has this much faith in me. No one has ever had this much faith in me. Maybe one day, I’ll trust that it’s real. But not yet.
“Ten to one?” I quirk an eyebrow.
“The only reason they took you off guard was because you stopped to try save someone.”
“Hardly counts if its a trap,” I mutter. I’m still mad at myself for that one.
“You had no idea that was the case though,” Remus says as he takes a seat next to me. I relax a little now he’s here. Odd that. I never felt this at ease in the guild. Yet here, surrounded still by people who may just hate me, I feel far safer.
Maybe they aren’t wrong about someone at the guild setting up the trap. But who? It doesn’t make much sense.
I should leave the thought for later. I should leave now for more pressing issues. Like the fact I’m going to have to drink blood some point soon.
Some point very soon if the red liquid being poured into my goblet was any indication. Who uses goblets anyway? Does it make blood taste better if it’s all medieval like?
I lick my lips. My eyes not leaving the drink. And it’s not going unnoticed.
“You can drink
it, Ashryn.” Dimitri says my name like its a delicious treat. Maybe even as delicious as the blood in front of us. I can only hope so.
What’s wrong with me? Why am I giving into this so easily? It’s like I’ve completely forgotten who I am.
Reluctantly, I push the goblet of blood away. I can’t risk the temptation. I will give in, and then who knows how far I’ll fall? Maybe I’d become one of the vampires they warn about at the guild. The ones that taste blood once and never stop drinking.
I hope not. That would be embarrassing.
“It’s just the blood lust,” Remus says softly.
“Great.”
“If you drink it will go away,” he assures me. I give him a skeptical look. That makes no sense. As far as I’m aware, blood is like a drug, and the more I drink, the more I’ll want to. “Honest, Ashryn. We only use donors, and they’re completely aware of who they’re donating to. They’re paid too. And then we mix it with a chemical our scientists created. It suppresses the hunger, but doesn’t do any more than that.”
“Sounds trustworthy,” I say, eyeing up the blood. I can’t lie to myself. I want to drink it. I really want to drink it.
“It is, I promise.”
“Would you stake your death on it?”
Both men burst out laughing. Not my intention there.
“Our deaths?” Dimitri manages to choke out.
“You can hardly stake your life on it, we’re all dead,” I point out. Pretty impressed with myself for that one.
“I suppose that is true,” Remus acknowledges, and I flash him a warm smile. “So, yes. I’ll stake my death on it. I was one of the scientists involved.”
“A scientist and a doctor?” Colour me impressed. And a little intimidated. No offence to my former colleagues, but some of them aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed. Others are. I can never decide whether the stupid ones, or the scarily intelligent ones, are the hunters to be the most scared of.
