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I’d been spared the fallout for now, though, and that made me worry more than it would have if Monica had just outed me.
I crouched, still facing the wall, and pressed my forehead back against the stone. I was squatted like that when Sig and Juan Carlos came back down the hall. Even when they stood over me and I could feel the weight of their gazes, I didn’t look up.
“It went well, then?” Sig asked. His voice sounded shockingly loud given how quiet the hall had previously been. I was glad something was now louder than the throbbing of my pulse.
“It was great,” I said into the wall.
“What did she say?”
“She will tell you, and only you. ” I swiveled my head to the side so I could look at them, and though my words were for Sig, I locked my gaze on Juan Carlos. He and I stared at each other, neither of us showing a glimmer of false friendliness. I was practically challenging him to say something. “Guess she doesn’t like Juan Carlos. Can’t imagine why. ”
Sig—usually the parental figure who kept Juan Carlos and me from lapsing into childish slap fights whenever we were within five feet of each other—said nothing and walked on towards Monica’s chamber. When he was gone, the Spanish vampire and I continue
d to eyeball each other coldly.
Juan Carlos took two steps forward and came to squat beside me. Vampires weren’t like werewolves, and physical posturing had less to do with power. A wolf would never lower himself to my level because it would demonstrate weakness. Just like I’d never sit lower than someone I felt was beneath me in the werewolf totem. I was glad I didn’t have to deal with that bullshit right now. I had enough on my mind without it.
“What did she say to you?” He was parroting Sig’s earlier question, but he was much angrier.
“She said she liked my outfit,” I replied.
He leaned closer, well into my personal bubble, but I didn’t move away. I would prefer not to be close to Juan Carlos, but I also couldn’t yield to his fear tactics. I knew he wanted to see me quivering in my boots, but I had no intention of giving him what he wanted.
“You think you’re clever, don’t you?” His breath was cool and held the faintest scent of copper. He must have fed recently.
With lightning-fast speed, his hand darted out and clenched around my throat. I might be fast, but I had nothing on a full-blooded vampire, and when he squeezed, I let out a surprised gasp. I’d assumed he wouldn’t be thrilled by my response, but I hadn’t been expecting a violent reaction.
I tried to pull out of his grip, but his fingers tightened, and my windpipe began to yield to the pressure. Vampire blood or not, I still needed to breathe, so I stopped struggling and met his cold gaze. My breath escaped in short pants and felt raspy and painful.
“You’ve played me as a fool for far too long, girl. Did you think you’d be able to hide from me forever?”
Since I couldn’t speak I squinted, hoping my pissed-off expression would say everything my mouth was unable to.
“I know you’re not what you claim. ”
That got my traitorous pulse tripping extra fast. I could keep my face impassive, but the fear kindling inside me couldn’t be repressed. My heart was hammering, and I couldn’t tamp it down. He’d probably have been able to hear it anyway, but with his hand clamped around my neck he’d be able to feel it too.
My stupid body had confirmed his words.
“Monica might not tell me, but you will, won’t you?”
“No,” I croaked.
I regretted it when he squeezed so hard the thin skin of my neck yielded under his short fingernails. A warm wetness trickled down my neck and slipped down the front of my shirt. The darkness in his eyes swelled, turning them entirely black. There was something new there, overriding the venomous hatred.
Hunger.
“One taste, and I’d know,” he whispered. “I’d know everything. ”
Maybe not one taste. He’d need more than what was under his fingernails, but if he bit me, he’d be able to glean what he wanted.
He wouldn’t know what Monica knew. Juan Carlos didn’t have the power to see my history with one taste. If he could, I’d never have been put in this position in the first place. But if he tasted enough of my blood, he would know the most important thing I’d be hiding. I might be able to fool people on the surface, and I’d been lying so long I buried my wolf self seamlessly when I was around them. My blood couldn’t lie, though. Just as my pulse had a terrible poker face when it came to fear, my blood was laced with the secret I most desperately wanted to hide from him.
One long swallow and he’d taste the wolf.
He rose to his feet, and I wheezed as he dragged me with him. Slamming me hard against the wall, Juan Carlos angled his face towards my throat and smelled me. When he pulled back, his eyes looked wild and more frightening. Juan Carlos had often made me uneasy in the past, but I’d reserved my fear for Sig.
Sig.
