“Liar,” he whispered. “You’re practically vibrating beneath me.”
“I’m cold. You wasted perfectly good liquor.”
“You did that on your own when you spat it out. You should have swallowed. Then you wouldn’t be in this position.” He sucked softly on my neck. “I wonder what you will taste like aftermarinating in fear. How much longer will you make me wait, you cruel thing?”
“An eternity—whatever that means for you.”
“Very well.” He sighed, releasing me and backing away. The Creature returned to my field of vision when he reached the other side of his desk, leaning back in the leather upholstered chair. The light from the window behind made him look like a vision from heaven, though I knew better than to trust a pretty halo. His head rested in his palm as he observed me silently, exactly like he did when he caught me in the tub. He wanted to watch me squirm, but I wouldn’t allow him the pleasure this time.
I simply laid my head back on the desk, closing my eyes for more rest. He would have to rip me off the desk if he wanted me to move. Patience was something of a virtue of mine. It was only a matter of how much he had left.
16
THE CREATURE
Ihad never met such a stubborn woman.
Leaning on the doorframe, I tapped my foot against the floor as I checked my watch. She had been in that same position for at least twelve hours. Despite her depressing and grim attitude, I feared that she might actually want to live this time.
This was all wrong. She was not cooperating with how things were supposed to go. Why could she not play the games as intended from the beginning? It would never have gotten this far.
For some reason, when I threatened to kill her hours ago, it did not taste right in my mouth, leaving the words sour on my tongue.
When I imagined my hands squeezing the life from her, pulling her flesh between my teeth and relieving it from her bones, it did not bring me the pleasure I originally anticipated. It left me numb. I felt nothing, no matter how I imagined it.
I was beginning to realize that my obsession with her was not due tothatkind of hunger. Her liveliness, stubbornness, sharptongue, and wit was what I craved. Her disregard for risk, the way she pursued me back, our morbid flirtation back and forth was what I looked forward to the most. No matter how good she might taste, I could not have that sort of fun with a corpse.
As I stared at her from the entryway, she was no longer standing, just lying on the desk, knees buckled. I supposed I never said anything about her having to stand.
I approached her at the desk, tilting my head to see her face. She had a peaceful expression, like a cemetery statue. I must have worn her out if she was comfortable resting in this state.
I leaned in, resting my forehead against her head as I breathed in. It did not matter that she smelled like a drunk tossed out of the tavern in the early morning. It was amusing, comical considering her own habits. As I retreated, something else tainted her scent.
I narrowed my eyes at her, leaning back to look at the floor. The vermilion rug had changed color. There was a darker red patch under her boots. I could have mistaken it for a shadow if I was not close enough to see what it really was.
She’d pissed herself.
That brat.
“Alina!” I shouted.
She flinched awake. Her pupils tightened when they landed on me, making her eyes impossibly blue against the red of her tired eyes. “Yes?” Her voice cracked.
“Get out.”
“No.”
“Game is over. Just go.”
She did not seem convinced, raising her brow at me.
“I mean it. My appetite is gone,” I growled, walking away from the study and to the service door. I opened the latch with a loud click and flung it open. I waited, but she still did not come.
“Alina!” I shouted again. “Before I change my mind!”
Still no response.
“For the love of all things horrid,” I grumbled, storming back down the hall, but she was gone by the time I returned.
