“Not yet.” The darkness parts, revealing red eyes that paralyse me. His gaze drops to linger at my nape before returning to meet mine. “And I don’t know why I’m helping you. Maybe my soul is getting in the way. Perhaps I’m intrigued by the idea of humanity and curious about what you’ll do next, Saya.”
Through clenched teeth, I say, “I don’t want you anywhere near me if that is what you’re suggesting.”
He steps back, turns, and makes his way to the vent above the bed. “Then don’t drink. But my offer stands for tomorrow night if you choose to entertain me again.”
Shadows billow upwards and through the vent, then I am alone.
I let out a tight breath before inhaling deeply and slowly exhaling. Tense muscles relax, and my shoulders sag in relief that I didn’t become a nightwalker’s unwilling snack.
My gaze lands on the table where the wineglass waits. I make my way to the table, gripping the fabric of my gown, my jaw clenching at the sight of the thick liquid.
It definitely looks like blood.
I grab the glass and lift it to my nose. It ishisblood, with the lingering scent of nightshade, but it doesn’t carry a rusty metallic scent. Instead, there’s a sweetness to it, like ripe raspberries, with a subtle hint of lemongrass. I recognise it all too well. Sprigs of lemongrass grew near the riverbank beyond the valley I grew up in.
I set the glass back on the table, step away, and fold my arms across my chest. The nightwalker wants me to drink his blood because he wants to help me, but he also made it clear that nightwalkers are known for being notorious liars.
Help means I can keep Cole safe. If the Hellsgate opens in Darkovish, who better to protect us than a nightwalker? Sure, I’d prefer a slayer, but hoping for a hypothetical slayer to show up when I have the option of protection from a nightwalker who has already saved me once…The decision weighs heavily on my mind.
Fuck it.
I reach for the wine, press the glass against my lips, and as a droplet of sweetened blood hits my tongue, I clamp my mouth shut. Another force is telling me to stop, and somehow, I do.
As much as I want help, I don’t trust this nightwalker. Hope is tempting, but nightwalkers are the reason we lost hope in the first place.
I place the glass back on the table and return to the bed. Silk glides through my fingertips as I crawl into the middle of the bed and lie down. A deep sigh escapes me as I gaze up at the vent. “You’re still there, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
I huff a breath. “Figured you were the type.”
“Type of what?”
He is…old, isn’t he?
“Never mind. Were nightwalkers the reason Mother left us? You surfaced after she left.”
A beat of silence. “Mother left because humans can’t help but ruin things. Always seeking more power. Creatingthings they shouldn’t to win wars they couldn’t on their own.”
“Like slayers?”
“Like vampires,” he says, but his tone is dismissive, as if he doesn’t want to talk about it. “May I ask something?”
I shrug my response. It’s only fair.
“This man you spend your nights with—why isn’t he your lover? I don’t particularly understand.”
I grunt out, “Don’t nightwalkers mess around?”
“No. We don’t. When two nightwalkers share blood under the same moon, they’re mated for eternity.”
“So, if I were to drink your blood tonight...”
“I would then have to drink yours for that to happen,” he finishes. “Now tell me about this not-lover of yours.”
My fingers pinch at the buttons of my gown. “He lied to me—and I’ve lied to him, I suppose—but it seems he won’t share important information with me until he has to. So…it bothers me. His lies are bothering me enough to make me hesitate.”
“I have lied to you.”
