“Where am I?” she asked before wincing.
“In my house,” I replied sternly before setting her down gently at the edge of the massive bed propped against the center of the back wall. “Remove your vest.”
She recoiled at my command, the sudden movement making her wince again.
“What?! Absolutely not!” she replied even as her face constricted.
I tilted my head to the side as I gave her an unimpressed look. “Do you wish to die, then? Because that’s exactly what you will be within the next hour unless I drain the poison from you.”
A strange expression fleeted over her features. To my shock, instead of stubbornly digging in her heels and arguing with me, she gave me a stiff nod and proceeded to unclasp the strap disguised as an Inquisitor’s cross on her chest. It revealed a zipper hidden beneath, which she promptly slid down.
I clenched my teeth with renewed discontent as the leather fabric parted, revealing an angry patch of red on her skin where the poisoned hair penetrated her flesh. The discoloration around the entry point indicated the beginning of necrosis. That she wasn’t screaming and moaning in pain spoke volumes about her strength and tolerance levels.
I crouched before her, my palms resting on the bed on each side of her legs, then leaned forward. She gasped when I pressed my lips to the wound and started sucking on it. In seconds, I sucked the hair out, even as she closed her fist on my own to yank my head back.
“What are you doing?!” she exclaimed. “It’s dangerous! It will kill you!”
I stared at her, stunned and moved in a way I couldn’t put into words. I couldn’t believe she was truly putting my welfare before hers. Bringing two fingers to my mouth, I removed the small piece of hair that had embedded itself in the woman. Shestared at it with an air of morbid fascination. I chuckled and incinerated it with my withering powers.
“Do not worry for me, Inquisitor. I am immune to all forms of poison,” I said smugly before leaning forward and resuming to suck on the puncture wound.
At first, she remained stiff, showing far more strength and steadiness than one would have reasonably expected from someone in her current condition. Her skin was still burning with a dangerous fever as her body attempted to eradicate the source of the poison trying to kill her. However, although the tension appeared to gradually bleed out of her, Eleni’s hands fisted the blanket under her, belying her impassive demeanor. When I pulled harder, she hissed, indicating the pain was finally reaching an unbearable level.
My fangs descended, and I sank them into her flesh. Her sharp cry immediately shifted into a moan as I injected her with my serum. I had hoped to avoid using it. It would make it a bit more challenging to drain only the poison and not both. It also acted as an aphrodisiac, which affected her responses. I wanted her clear-headed when we discussed what happened at the crematorium and where things would go from here.
Eyes closed, lips parted, the Inquisitor leaned her chest forward, her fingers sinking into my hair to keep my head in place as I continued to suck on her. The scent of her arousal had my blood rushing to my groin. I instantly throbbed, my cock aching to bury itself deep inside her warm depths.
Ignoring these unwelcomed urges, I focused on the task at hand. As expected, my serum mingled with the poison, and I ended up draining as much of it as of the poison. Slipping my left hand under the open panel of her vest, I pressed my palm against this side of her flat belly and released small bursts of electricity. The woman gasped, and the scent of her arousal went up another notch as a needy moan rose from her throat. Thiswasn’t meant to arouse her, but only to help push more of the poison towards the wound so that I could drain it faster and with greater ease.
As I had to move my hand over her body to help guide that poison, I feared she would perceive it as me taking advantage of her temporary vulnerability to grope her, but Eleni didn’t balk. Then again, I kept my touch as clinical as possible.
It took about four minutes to conclude my task. Her fever immediately broke. Instead of pulling my fangs out as soon as I was done, I lingered much longer than necessary. This time, I drank a bit more of her blood to shamelessly plunder her memories. I went farther and deeper than the surface memories I had skimmed over in the crematorium. Even as I gorged on everything that she was, a tiny voice at the back of my head berated me for that stupid endeavor. The first drink in the crematorium had already made me insanely attracted to her. But this...?
Eleni was deeply flawed, just like me. Unspeakable horrors haunted her past, many of them hard to fully comprehend as was often the case with the sketchier memories of early childhood. Some memories, I couldn’t say for sure if they were real, hallucinations, or just difficult to comprehend due to the possible side effects of drugs, medication, or illness.
And yet, there was incredible beauty and strength in her. I wanted to drown in the wonders of her psyche, wrap them around me, and bask in the maelstrom of emotions that made her the most fascinating creature I had ever encountered. The thought of experiencing all that she was in the real world thrilled me beyond words. But would she even want to let me get to know her?
With much reluctance, I finally removed my fangs from her and licked the puncture wounds so that the regenerativeproperties of my saliva would accelerate their healing, including the one where the Oni hair had penetrated her skin.
Looking a little groggy, like someone who was just starting to come down from a high, the Inquisitor studied my features as if she was seeing me for the first time, the strangest mix of awe and suspicion settling on her face.
“There, all done,” I said nonchalantly.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.
“You’re welcome,” I replied in a similar fashion.
“Why did you save me?” she asked.
“Because I wanted to read your thoughts and find out what you knew about Ranael,” I said with a shrug.
I almost laughed at her shocked expression. However, the discreet glimmer of disappointment—almost of hurt—that flashed through her beautiful green eyes stung in a way I couldn’t explain.
“Wow, that’s kind of rude,” she replied, unimpressed. “You could have just asked.”
I waved a dismissive hand. “You were dying. There was no time to give you a proper interrogation, nor was it the right place.”
“Am I to understand that, had you not been curious about what I may or may not know, you would have just left me there to die?” she challenged.
