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I force my face into an expressionless mask. “It would be the wise thing to do.” When she only arches a brow in question, I add, “Unless you wish to die.”
“I can’t,” she says. But those two words sound more likeI don’t want to.
She must be insane. A thought I mean to express with a look of derision, except my gaze lands on the bite marks where her shoulder meets her neck. There is a web of pale scars, a single set of nearly unnoticeable bite marks among them, and two more recent sets of scars over top of them. She was attacked sometime around the first mark she received.
There is no mistaking that she is fully claimed. I should not want another vampire’s human—especially not one Elizabeth loathes. And yet, I am uncertain that I could keep from claiming her as my own, right here and now, if she were not marked by another.
She shifts closer. So close, the warmth of her is a caress. So close that if either of us leaned forward, what little space remains between us would vanish. Her scent is overwhelming and intoxicating.
It would be too easy to reach out and wrap my arms around her. I can almost feel her body pressed against my own… feel her skin beneath my lips as my fangs sink into her flesh. I swallow and take half a step back.
“Why is that?” I throw her earlier question back at her.
Everything about her is intriguing, from her lack of fear to the mysterious inhuman qualities she possesses.
She steps into me, pressing her chest to mine. Her palms pressed against my chest, fingers splayed as she lifts up on her toes, bringing her mouth so close to mine that I can taste her. My eyes slide shut.
“Because you are here,” she whispers.
It’s the strangeness of the answer that brings clarity crashing down again.
She stands back, watching me carefully. It takes a moment to realize her closeness was all in my head.
However, there must be something more at play. Though it’s impossible to tell if it’s a charm, spelled perfume, or some natural ability.
“What are you?” I demand, infusing every ounce of power I possess into my voice, compelling her to answer. I tower over her in a way meant to intimidate, to show how little effort it would take to end her life. Though it is to no avail. She is entirely unfazed by my posturing.
“I—” she starts, only to be interrupted by the demon on her shoulder. Pausing, she darts a glance at the bat from the corner of her eye, then she continues, “I am human.”
“Lies.” It’s more snarl than word.
Hurt, not fear, shadows her large, brown eyes. She does not cower or tremble in fear but presses her lips into a thin line and glares. “I am not lying.”
I scoff.
“What proof do you need?” She tilts her head to the side, exposing her neck. “Would feeding on me be enough to make you believe?”
The bat lets out a series of chirps and scrambles to cover her exposed jugular with their wings and body.
Instead of heeding the demon’s warning, she removes them, plucking the demon off to expose her vulnerable flesh. Their tiny claws leave behind hairline scratches that cause the smallest beads of blood to well up.
I retreat two steps, needing space before I fall into the grasp of the unknown power she possesses.
My chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.Fear?
Absurd. I can’t possibly be afraid of a mere mortal woman. Except, what else could it be?
“Leave Nightwich, or you will die here—and it will not be a good death,” I warn.
The corner of her mouth ticks up. Unbelievable. She is either too naive to be afraid, or her status as slayer has allowed her more courage than wisdom.
I turn and walk away, not giving her the opportunity to say another word or continue this game she is playing with me.
I do not look back. Not even when the erratic flight of leathery wings trails behind me.
CHAPTER TEN
CLARA
