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“Oh, I don’t know.” Those cunning eyes narrowed on my heated cheeks. The blade slipped without noise from its hidden sheath. Light reflected off its edges as she tossed it in the air, caught it with her fingertips by the blade, and offered me the handle.
I felt my daring grin lift my features. My skin burned as I pressed the blade into my palm and drew a long line. Blood immediately pooled in my cupped hand. Both Jesseline and Geeta stiffened. Though Jesseline still managed another step forward.
“Oh, relax.” I waved with my free hand before setting down the knife and picking up the cup. The water soothed my nearly raw throat as I finished the glass and set it before me. My skin was already knitting itself closed and the blood flow was slowing. I needed to keep on bleeding.
“Geeta, I can offer a warm glass of freshly squeezed blood if you can give me a few answers.” My smile didn't falter as I squeezed my hand closed, forcing my nails into the cut. Warm and sticky, new blood oozed out as the cut reopened. It dripped from my hand, streaking into the glass. Every small splatter caused Geeta to twitch.
Those gray lips disappeared as they slimmed into a straight line.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
I dug my nails in a little deeper.
“Come on, Witch Bitch, are you thirsty yet?”
Drip.
“Talk to me.”
Drip.
My body was too numb to feel any further sting so I squeezed a little harder.
“What do you want to know?”she rasped.
There we go.
“Are there more of you?”
Jesseline paced between us. Geeta’s eyes snapped from me to her and back to me again, but she didn’t open her mouth. Slowly, I narrowed my gaze.
“Reckless,” Jesseline whispered.
“I’d hate to have to dump this whole glass I’m working so hard for down the drain,” I continued, hating the subtle slur in my voice and my decision to drink.
Geeta flashed her teeth with a hiss. “I don’t know if more witches exist.”
“Where have you been hiding?”
“Hiding?” she scoffed. “You mean, where have I been imprisoned?”
I shrugged and wiggled my fingers back and forth to keep working the cut back open.
“A Fae named King Ganglin kept me.”
“Where could he keep a witch that should have long since been extinct without rumors traveling around?” Jesseline interjected.
“In a Fae bound spell. A flesh prison within his son.”
My eyebrows lifted in surprise at her words. “King Ganglin has a son?”
“Illegitimate then,” Jesseline murmured under her breath as she walked back and forth.
“I wasn’t alone in this prison. Monsters live within his child’s skin. Beasts that haven't roamed our lands since before my time. King Ganglin kept quite the collection, inherited from his father. There used to be old tunnels full of cages where he kept them until he realized he could hide them more… compactly and inconspicuously.”
