“Ah, yes, Cecil. My name is Sin Draven, and my associate here is Benji Wells. We have no intention of letting any harm come to you. I assure you, we are only trying to help.”
Cecil was studying him, but he hadn’t appeared to have recognized Sin’s name. “That's nice, but I don't need your help. I need to leave.”
“I do not think that would be wise. You need to rest. You may, of course, speak to the healers yourself, but they have informed me it would be best if you stayed at least a few more nights.”
“I'm leaving,” Cecil said firmly. Pushing the blankets off, the man slid his feet to the floorand stood.
They were rather quick movements for someone who was recovering from surgery and had painkillers still running through him. Cecil should be exhausted. That he had the strength to keep going was telling of what he had been through.
However, it appeared that standing was too much. Sin rushed over to stabilize him when Cecil started to tilt. Picking the man up, he ignored Cecil's weak demands to be released, and placed him back in bed.
“Please, whatever you have to do, let us handle it. You should put your health above all else.”
“I don’t know you, and I don’t need your help. I just want to leave.”
“Cecil…” Sin hesitated. “We are quite aware that someone has been hurting y?—”
“You don’t know anything!” Cecil yelled, and then let out a groan of pain.
Feeling a great need to comfort the young man, Sin reached toward him but managed to stop himself. He had no right to touch him, and Sin knew it would not be welcome. “Please, calm down. You are going to hurt yourself. Whatever it is you need, you can trust me.”
“And why should I?”
“Because I am the Head of the Draven Zaytari group.”
Cecil’s eyes widened. “Prove it,” he croaked.
Sin supposed it was only right. He removed his jacket. After handing it to Benji, he rolled the right sleeve of his black dress shirt up to his elbow. Around his wrist was a woven metal bracelet. Equally spaced along it were circles of green stone with veins of black. Sin ran one of his fingers over the bracelets bumpy yet smooth surface. The heat of his touch, the spark of his energy, and the magic Sin drew fromthe air mixed together and the metal began to exude a soft glow. In mere seconds, ink spread across his skin, and in swirling patterns, it wrapped around his right forearm until a crest of sorts formed on the topside of his arm. Centered in the swirl of black and silver ink was real metal. It arched out of his skin, and in its clasps was a shining stone of jade—telling of his rank.
“Oh, shit!” Cecil gasped. The man scrambled back and almost fell off the hospital bed.
Cecil’s nerves were getting the best of him. His neck had started to ache from the strain. Honestly, no matter how soft the bed was—and it was pretty fucking soft—how was he expected to relax with everything going on?
On top of the current fucked-up situation, the throbbing in his side had become less manageable, because whatever they had drugged him with had left his system.
Well, the pain was partly his fault. Hewasthe one who refused the meds the healers had offered. So complaining about that wasn’t really an option. Cecil would rather be in pain and fully aware than doped up and defenseless.
Speaking of the pain-be-gone drugs, they must have temporarily destroyed Cecil’s ability to think rationally. Seriously, what the hell had he just done? What had possessed him to do something so stupid?
Fuck, he was so going to jail. This was all too good to be true. Cecil had finally chosen the wrong guy to target, and now his ass was going to get locked up. He hadbeen so close to something better. Cecil had finally gotten free—it wasn’t fair!
Nothing in his short life had given him the idea he could trust strangers, or anyone really, so why had he done so now? Yeah, the Zaytari were supposed to be the ‘good’ guys, but none of them had ever been any help before.
Hell, Cecil’s only prior experience with them was the time they dragged him kicking and screaming back to his father.
Though, whether they had actually been part of the Zaytari or not was questionable. The two men who’d grabbed him had looked shady as fuck.
Which didn’t matter at the moment, because he was now well and truly screwed. Except not in the good way—not that Cecil would know what that felt like.
The drugged-up him not only told the two men where he was staying, but he had also given them the damn key to get in. So right about now, Sin Draven’s little henchman Benji was probably looking through his stuff.
At least, they will have my full name when they booked me, he thought snidely.
Eyeing Sin, Cecil searched for clues as to what the man was planning. The vampire was just sitting quietly on the couch against the wall, and had been since Benji left. Legs crossed, hands resting folded on his knees, the man appeared to be completely relaxed and unbothered by the current situation.
Cecil was picking up nothing. Cecil was also having a hell of a time keeping his mind straight. Whenever he looked at the man, his thoughts tried to drift away from searching for ulterior motives, to wondering what Sin looked like without his suit.
Damn, what was it about Sin Draven that just did it for him? Sure the guy was hot, but so were a lot of guys. Maybe it was because he seemed nice? Sin’s baby-blue eyes had actually appeared to fill with worry when he’d looked at him, which was bizarre.
