I have very little time, so I lean in, and, in one smooth movement, swallow the first third of him down, almost gagging at the taste.
He groans, and more of that fucking precum floods my mouth. But he hasn’t got the knife—I’ve done a good job of distracting him. He’s drunk on sensations, and I force myself to swirl my tongue around as he pants with pleasure, thrusting in deeper.
Withdrawing just a little, so I have room to do what I need, I take a deep breath through my nose and bite down as hard as I’ve ever bitten in my life.
The world is reduced to taste, smell, and noise.
Hot, metallic liquid floods my mouth, and my ears ring as the man above me roars at a terrifying decibel. He doesn’t go for the knife, all thought gone as I shake my head like a lioness with her kill. More blood spurts, and he shrieks in agony. Noting the knife handle protruding from the sheath, I reach out to try to grab it.
In his shock and pain, he might not have thought to grab his knife, but he does act on instinct, and his massive fist crashes against my head, sending me sideways.
The world flickers like all the lights are going out, and I hit the back wall. Dazed and dizzy, I try to regroup so I can escape him and get to my men.
My attacker’s knees give way, and he crumples then hits the floor. I stare in shock as he starts to convulse. What the hell? Maybe he’s losing too much blood? Did I kill him? I hope I killed him, the sick, fucking bastard.
For the first time in my life, I truly feel like my father’s daughter. Jack-the-blood McGrath’s DNA runs through me deep, and I want to stand over this man and howl my victory to the world.
I don’t have time, though. I stand and stagger to the sink. I turn on the faucet and hold my face beneath the water, rinsing my mouth out quickly because the taste of his blood and precum is making me sick.
Glancing at myself in the mirror, I almost faint. What the fuck? My hair is wild. My dress, or rather the ragged pieces that are left, hangs from my shoulders. My mouth and chest are covered in blood.
I look like a witch. Or a vampire.
Something else my father taught me leaps to the forefront of my mind.
If you’re ever in trouble, Vani, and running isn’t an option, don’t fight, just act crazy. Truly feral. You’d be amazed at how many people that delays enough for you to get away.
I glance at the door and, sucking in air, prepare to go save the goddamn day.
CHAPTER 12
Zane
Lex glances at his watch,and as he does so, it makes me realize that Vani has been gone a while.
I sign to the twins.Going to look for Vani.
Just as I’m about to exit the room, the captain steps out in front of me, blocking my way.
“Going somewhere?” he asks. “We’ll be serving your meal shortly.”
I can’t answer the fucker, so simply roll my eyes and make to step around him. The next moment, a click right beside my head, and cold metal at my temple, stops me in my tracks.
Slowly turning, my heart kicks up a notch. The barman smirks at me, gun held to my head.
What the absolute fuck?
“Turn around, dumbass,” he orders.
He did not just call me dumb. That inflames the rage that’s building in me to nuclear levels.
I’m about to lash out and take my chance, not caring if I get shot, but I stop. The two waiting staff are standing by Saint and Lex, and each have a gun aimed at a twin.
“Please.” The supposed captain gestures back into the room. “Go take a seat.”
Who is driving the boat? I realize then, belatedly, that we’re not moving, we’re docked somewhere. I peer out the window and see nothing but darkness. When had the view changed from the lights of Paris to this? I’d been distracted. They must have tucked this thing in somewhere quiet along the river.
I shuffle back into the dining room, obeying his order but taking my time, because I need a moment to think.
