“Hush, shhh, little Leila. Be still,pax, I do not wish to harm you. Shush, now. Please.”
She clamped her teeth into the hand,hard. A low, nearly disbelieving laugh brushed her hair, warm breath touching her cheek. She was sweating again, despite the air conditioning. Her nose was clear, but maybe that wouldn’t last and she’d suffocate with a biter holding her face.
OhGod please, please don’t let me die.She went limp, lungs heaving, air whistling faintly through her nostrils.
“Very good.” A faint tremor passed through the steel bars holding her as the vampire inhaled, deeply; he sounded, of all things, almost businesslike. “I am going to take my hand away.If you scream again I will stopper your mouth, very pleasantly. Nod if you understand.”
What the fuck?But she did get, very clearly, that he didn’t want her to yell, and maybe she could figure out a way to survive this if she played along for a few minutes. Watching for an opening, waiting for a chance—oh, she knew all about that.
Sometimes opportunity didn’t bother to arrive, but Meemaw Cathy always said chance favored the prepared. And that was good enough.
Layla managed a tiny nod, chin dipping, rising again. Then she had to loosen her jaw as he worked his hand free of her teeth. At least she hadn’t drawn blood.
Vampire blood. Too late—he bit you, goddammit. You know what that means.
One problem at a time, Layla decided grimly, and was finally able to get enough breath into her aching lungs. Violent trembling poured through arms, legs, all the rest of her; she hoped he didn’t think she was still fighting.
“Now,” he continued, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world, “I am going to set you on the bed. Please be cautious, little Leila, and move slowly. I have… certain instincts, and they are a little difficult to control at the moment. Again, nod if you understand.”
Oh, God. But she nodded once more, trying to make the movement at once definite and conciliatory. What the fuck did he want withher? Most of his file was simply a list of sightings, generally right before another high-powered biter vanished; Shawn’s second-in-command Feargus had even made the grim joke that maybe Nemesis was a cannibal, cleaning up his own kind. There was another list in the folder as well—hunter groups which had brushed up against this particular biter and dropped off the map.
Sucked into a black hole, maybe with a littleulpsound like Ben made when…
The biter glided backward, carrying her along as if she weighed less than nothing, and finally halted next to the tangled pink bed. The leashed strength was just as terrifying when he set her, lightly and with exquisite control, on numb feet. Her legs threatened to give way, rubbery as overboiled noodles, and he steadied her.
“Careful,” he murmured. “There. Down.”
Her ass hit the bed. It was hard to stay sitting upright instead of sliding right off the edge and ending to the floor; she managed, ignoring the mattress’s faint squeak, and squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands knotted together in her lap, like she was waiting in the principal’s office after some playground prank. Then it occurred to her she might as well see her own death coming, so she forced her eyelids open again and snuck a quick glance upward.
Same black sweater, on a disturbingly broad chest she now knew was stone-hard, plus warmer than it should be even through a layer of heavy knitted wool. He went still for a moment, and the blank look on his face was utterly terrifying, as if he’d forgotten how to make the human mask work. How did anyone mistake these creatures for people, especially at short range? Maybe biters only let henchmen and hypnotized employees close enough to see the thousand subtle signals adding up tothis thing just ain’t right?
Looming over her like this, he was even more terrifying than last night. If that were possible.
The vampire dropped fluidly into a crouch, finishing the movement by peering up at her through a shelf of dark curls fallen over his forehead. Except for the eerie gracefulness and the way he went utterly, creepily motionless right afterward, itcould almost have been kind of comforting, a guy deliberately making himself smaller as if he understood female caution.
“Hello,” the biter known as Nemesis said, gravely. “You are very frightened.”
No shit. Layla swallowed hard, dry throat giving a tiny forlorn click. She nodded, and once she started, she couldn’t seem to stop for a few seconds. Her head bobbed vigorously, until the entire plush, pinkish—Meemaw would call itdusty rose—room seesawed like a ship on high storm-waves.
His mouth curved into, of all things, a smile. It wasn’t bad, especially as the corners of his eyes crinkled a bit, but the thought that he might show his teeth was suddenly, overwhelminglytoo much.
So she froze. At least that stopped the nodding; she felt like a goddamn bobble-head attached to a dashboard.
“And very brave.” As if conferring a favor, one of her very least favorite tones for a man to take. But the vampire probably couldn’t care less what she thought right now, or ever. “You know what I am.”
She was trembling almost too hard to breathe, Layla realized. Her head now felt even funnier, light and stuffed with cotton. He’d bitten her; how much blood had he taken? Was she running a few pints short?
Was she a vampire’s juice box now? A self-sustaining snack?
“Say it, little Leila.” A soft, coaxing tone, again adding an extra syllable to her name. Worst of all, he was smiling—just a little, as if he meant to be encouraging, lips curving upward but so horribly stiff, as if he didn’t really remember how to grin correctly. “Let me hear you, so I know you understand.”
Oh, Christ.What answer did he want? “You’re a biter,” she heard herself whisper. Hard to talk with her teeth wanting to chatter, her tongue tangled-numb with terror. “A v-vampire.”
“Sanguinantis the term we prefer, but you are not incorrect.” A considering look, measuring her for God-alone-knew what. His dark gaze was so flat, so closed-off, he could give anyone the heebie-jeebies with just a glance. “You know of the demimonde, then.”
It was one thing to have Shawn or one of his guys lecture on proper terminology. It wasentirely differentto have an honest-to-goshness fanged sonofabitch lecture her—especially so casually, patient and expectant as a teacher with a distracted student.
“A little.” She couldn’t speak above a pained, strained little-girl mutter. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise. Iswear.” She hated begging, was helpless not to. Her palms were both sweaty and cold, her throat ached, and waves of scorching and freezing alternated, roaring up and down her entire body like a pair of small dogs fighting over a plush toy.
