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“No one is permitted within the boundaries of my lair. Unless they wish to die. Do you wish to die, MF? Because I assure you it will be a violent, slow, and painful death.”
Her mouth flapped for a moment. How could he be so open and friendly one moment and then ice cold the next? “But I thought that—”
“You thought wrong. Now, I must make haste to my cave. The sunlight is draining my energy.” He bowed his head. “Goodbye, MF.”
She stood there, her mind spinning as she noticed the muscles working on his angular jaw, almost as if he were thinking about chewing something.
Me? Does he want to drink me?She didn’t get the impression it would be the fun kind of drinking either. He wanted to kill her.
The ground shook again.
MF shrank back, holding in her emotions, and walked away. She was never one to cry much. In fact, the last time she’d had a good gusher was after she lost her family to the vampire who turned her. He’d then abandoned her, leaving her alone to figure out what she was.
Sadistic fuck.
A month later, the Great Explosion had happened, and she had been human again. And lost. So lost. Everything she knew—her human life, her family, her humanity, and her vampirism—had been wiped out. She’d ended up on the streets, ready to give up, when Cimil had appeared with an offer.
“You work for the tailor. Help ease his mind so he leaves his shop and does some very important work for me. In return, Mountain Flower, I will see to it that your life is set back on course. A vampire. A purpose. A family.”
“You say you’re a powerful goddess, so bring back my parents instead. Give me back my old life,” MF had said.
“I am sorry, my bitter little cookie,” Cimil had replied, “but some things are beyond my control. Except on Wednesdays. And even then, there must be Twinkies. And naked clowns. I am afraid that day isn’t today.”
It actually had been Wednesday; however, MF immediately understood two things in that moment. One, the goddess wasn’t right in the head. And two, this would be a take-it-or-leave-it situation. Cimil had an agenda, and whatever she was offering wasn’t negotiable. So MF accepted to serve the tailor. All to become a vampire once again and find her destiny.
But if Maxton wasn’t interested in her, there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d bite her. In fact, he’d just threatened to kill her.
MF arrived back at the small camp on the opposite side of the river from the village, finding Damien talking to Pet.
“The moment Maxton emerges from his lair at sunset, I want you to tell me,” Damien said.
“Why? Are you going to make out with him?” Pet asked.
“No, Pet. I wish to speak with him.”
Pet shrugged, her eyes spotting something off in the distance. “Mushroom!” Pet fluttered away.
“Come back here!” Damien shook his head.
“Hey,” MF said glumly, “I’m going to ask Brutus to give me a ride to the Uchben airstrip.”
“You’re leaving?” Damien cocked a brow. “I thought you wanted to help convince Maxton to go to LA.”
“I wanted to convince him to turn me, but that’s not going to happen.”
Damien’s turquoise eyes filled with pity. “Wars are not won in a day, MF. Give him time.”
“You have two days to get him back to LA.”
“I meant give him until tomorrow. Then we must haul ass home.”
“What’ll you do if he says no?” she asked.
“I will cross that bridge when I get there. For the moment, I have a few cards up my sleeve. MF, I must ask about something Brutus mentioned. He seems to believe you are romantically interested in Maxton. Is this true?”
Had her drooling been that obvious?How humiliating.
“No. I, uh, I think he’s handsome, but romance?Pfft!Not my thing.”
