Her mouth forms a stern line. “Did you kill Suzie?” she asks, her voice breaking slightly as she says her friend’s name.
I shake my head. “I’ve already told you that wasn’tus. That was the Crawleys. We do not harm innocent women and children. It’s the law. Our law. One that I set out—that we, as a club, as a coven—set out hundreds of years ago.”
She stares at me for a beat, then gives me a small nod that tells me she believes me.
“One last question. And it’s a big one.” She swallows, then begins to nibble on her bottom lip. The sound of her heart racing indicates she’s scared to ask the question.
I take hold of her chin, my thumb nudging her lip free. “Ask me,” I demand.
She inhales a deep breath before exhaling. “What do you want with me? Are you going to turn me into, um, you? Do you have sex? Do you want to have sex with me? Why have you kept me here? Am I a sacrifice?” she finishes, almost completely out of breath.
“I will answer what I know,” I begin. “I just want you.” I pause, avoiding her next question. “Yes, and yes. And I have kept you here because I want to. No, you are not a sacrifice.”
“Why can’t you answer the question about turning me?” she asks softly.
“Because I don’t know the answer to that yet, but when I do, I will be sure to let you know,” I sayplayfully.
Her eyes narrow. “Where are you from? Because your accent and how you speak isn’t from around here.”
“I thought we had already had the last question,” I sigh.
She sits there on my lap, her heart rate now steady, no longer afraid of me, and looks at me expectantly, waiting for my answer.
“Fine. I was born in France, in the fourteenth century.”
“Holy shit!” she gasps, her face stunned.
I can’t help but laugh at her reaction.
“Yes, I’m old. I have moved around a lot; different countries, cities, and towns over the past seven hundred-plus years. So my accent, the way I speak, is, I guess, unique.” I smile.
“You sound a little like you’re British, but European, but not really, and American,” she says, squinting at me. “But mainly, you speak like a gentleman. Well spoken. Although I have heard you drop a few fucks here and there.” She smirks.
She’s smiling, relaxing more and more. Then her smile fades.
“What about my life?” she asks, looking down at her hands.
“There are things that I can’t explain. Things that have shifted my life and yours. I can’t say you will get that life back,” I tell her truthfully.
She nods in understanding, or if not, she appears content not to press further. She sits in silence for a moment.
“Are you okay?” I press.
Her dark eyes hold mine for a long moment. “I’ve been kidnapped by bikers, locked underground, seen a guy die at your hands, and now—” she quips, sarcasm lacing her tone, “surprise, you’re all vampires. Honestly, it felt like the natural escalation.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EVELYNN
ONE WEEK LATER
I grew moreconfident as the week progressed, still too scared to annoy any of them. Clutch seems the most laid back. I caught Hex talking to his bike. Cain and the rest were nice, but didn’t say much. Silas, on the other hand, hated me. I felt his dagger-like stare on me every time I entered the room.
I was allowed to roam the compound as I pleased, never to step foot outside alone. No matter how much I assured them I wasn’t about to run—that they would catch me within a second—Lucian still insisted I was escorted.
At breakfast, I sat in the kitchen with the rest of them, enjoying my omelette while they drank…well, while they drank blood. I shudder at the thought.
“Prez, it’s been over a month, and I’ve got the fang bangers blowing up the cell,” Silas says to Lucian.
