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He set it down and went to pick up something else.
I didnotneed to see what it was. I yanked at the chain again. “You don’t want to do this.”
Still he didn’t answer. I thought about how a goat might feel as someone prepared the room to butcher it. Suddenly, going vegetarian sounded much better.
Too bad Grant’s little mark didn’t work anymore—I was pretty sure his entire arm would be in flames because of my fear.
The man turned, finally looking directly at me. His lips curled into a sickening smile, though something about the fangs made it notquiteas scary. It was like someone with fake vampire teeth trying to smirk. “I haven’t seen a full mortal this far into hell in a while.”
“A mortal? Me? That’s crazy.”
He made a chiding sound, as if scolding a kid. “I cansmellyou, human. You reek of mortality, of life. Even with the cloak, my nose is good enough to spot it.” He took a step toward me.
“Okay, fine, I’m mortal, but I am aterribleone. Whatever you want, I won’t be helpful with it. Did you know a vampirespat outmy blood? See? You should save us both the trouble and just let me go.”
He neared me, thankfully without his weapons, but didn’t seem to be listening to me at all. He caught my hand, the one without the shackle.
I kicked. Okay, so I’d only taken like two of those cardio kickboxing classes, and it wasn’t like I had much power behind the kick, but I was without options.
My foot struck his leg, and it sank in as if his body was made of not quite solid flesh, but he didn’t react.
He lifted my hand, having to lean down in the end because the chain kept me from standing fully and he was alottaller than I was. He ran his fang over my palm in a quick jerk, the sharp tip slicing it open.
I cried out. Sure, it would have been nice if I’d been stoic, but he’d just opened a gash in my palm that made Grant’s seem like a paper cut.
He released me, then went to a cabinet. “My crops need to expand,” he said, his tone civil, as if we were discussing basic gardening and not my eminent demise.
“I’ve heard fertilizer does wonders.”
“The blood mist keeps them growing, but new plants must have roots. I take clippings of the old ones, the strong ones, and plant them into their new home when I can, but roots are hard to come by.”
I had a sinking suspicionrootshad something to do with me.
He took out an empty pot—no, wait, it had dirt in it—and another pot with a large plant, setting both on the ground beside me. “This is my oldest, my best crop. I don’t harvest it for product anymore—it’s too valuable for that. Instead, it creates new plants, fathering some of the best crops in this area.”
“Proud papa, I’m sure.” I yanked again at the manacle, my wrist aching.
“Let us see how much it likes your blood.”
“Let’s not.”
Even as I spoke, he snatched my bleeding hand and held it above the plant. Fat droplets of red fell from my palm and over the grayish leaves, the long, stalk-like trunk.
When he let go, I pulled away, cradling my hand to my stomach, swallowing to keep my food down. Something about feeding that plant felt wrong in a way few things did to me, sickening, like something that twisted nature in a way that should never happen.
“See, the blood mist, made by the creatures that live in hell, will nourish them to grow, to stay alive, but we need living material to create new plants. You could be mother to so many new ones.”
“Not really the mothering type.”
“You don’t have a say. You shouldn’t have come here, and a hellhound ofallpeople should have known better. That one was a fool who should have known better.”
Hunter.That gave me another idea… “Lucifer summoned me. I bet he’d be pretty angry if you killed me before he got to talk to me…”
Sure, name dropping the devil wasn’t my normal go-to plan, but one worked with what they had.
Which for me, right then, was fuck-all.
The man laughed, something that sounded like spiders skittering across a tile floor. “Well, in that case, it’d be best if I made sure I buried you deep, wouldn’t it? If Lucifer cares at all about you, I’d imagine he’d already be angry with me. Besides, you’re worth the risk. I haven’t grown my crop inyears.” His eyes took on a red tint, one that reminded me of Kase’s, but where I didn’t fear Kase, I feared this man.
