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I went to the kitchen and ordered a couple of rare burgers. The French cook’s version used chopped, not ground, beef, and added things like shallots and parsley, but it was close enough.
While she prepared the food, I took the phone to Moreau.
He pulled up the pictures and eyed them. Something dark slithered over his face. Something that made me swallow hard.
I just barely stopped myself from reaching for my switchblade.
“Très bien,” he told me.
I grunted and escaped back to the lower levels.
My next stop was the wine cellar, where I helped myself to a bottle of blood-wine. Back in the kitchen, the cook had wrapped the burgers in paper and put them in a bag with a small baguette and some cheese. She also gave me a corkscrew to open the wine.
I stopped in the ops room to inform Samir I was on my way to feed the prisoner. “Moreau’s orders,” I lied.
“Okay,” he said without looking away from the video screens. “But next time, secure the prisoner to the wall before you leave the cell. The boss doesn’t want us to take any chances.”
“Got it.” I ran a hand over my hair, wanting to ask who had drunk from Zaq but knowing it was best to pretend I either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care. I’d have to wait until I could examine the video feed.
Blaise stopped me in the hall, eyeing the wine and bag of food. “What’s that?”
“Dinner.” My tone dared him to ask more.
“Oui?”
I moved forward like I was going to bowl him over. “Yeah.”
His jaw flexed but he stepped aside at the last moment. Something about me made even vampires wary of messing with me.
Maybe they sensed that inside, I was as dead as them.
Back at the cell, Zaq was pacing the concrete floor. He’d cleaned up and washed the blood from his neck. His gaze snapped to the food in my hands. I handed over the bag.
He opened it and looked inside. His eyes closed and his nostrils flared. “Thank you.” The words were ragged, raw, like I’d handed him the freaking Hope Diamond.
Uncomfortable, I glanced away. “A deal’s a deal.”
“Thank you anyway. And blood-wine.” He zeroed in on the bottle in my hand. “That’s for me too?”
“Yeah.” I crouched on the floor and opened the wine.
Zaq withdrew to a corner and sat, the bag of food clasped to his chest. I set the open bottle on the concrete next to him. He drained a third of the wine in a single thirsty gulp, then unwrapped the burgers.
His hands shook. I knew it was from hunger; I’d been there myself.
The tangles in my stomach notched tighter.
I didn’t want to feel empathy for Zaq Kral. I didn’t want to feel anything for him.
I squatted on my haunches against the door. I wasn’t dumb enough to turn my back on Zaq, but I needed to put some space between us.
“The main door to the cells is locked, too,” I said, so he’d know attacking me wouldn’t do him any good. “You can’t leave without knowing the code.”
“Got it,” he said, his gaze on the burgers. “Loud and clear.”
He tore off a chunk of bread, wrapped it around one of the burgers, and downed the whole thing in a few big bites. He let out a slow breath, then took another gulp of blood-wine and ate some cheese before starting in on the second burger. This one he ate more slowly, savoring each bite.
His jaw was strong and male. The beard scruff had thickened. It was darker than the hair on his head.
