Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“Shit.” Paul is distressed as he helps me lie down next to her. “One moment, Ryet. We have a situation here.”
I want to ask, but then again, I don’t.
Whatever I thought I had with Syrsee is over now.
She knew.
She fucking knew who I was. And she has been feeding me.
“Let her die.” I croak these words out past my dry throat. “Just let that bitch die.”
Paul laughs now. “That’s absurd.” He’s not even looking at me. He’s looking at Syrsee. He’s beautiful again, the wings gone, his demon face put away. Then I watch as he bites his lip and a trickle of blood squirts out.
I lose my mind when I see this and attack him. I want that blood inside me so bad.
But I am weak and he simply places one hand on my chest and presses me flat to the bed. “Soon, Ryet. You can have some of me soon. But you need to fill up on Syrsee first. Then we’ll do the exchange. I have a gift for you.” He swipes his fingertip across the blood on his lip and he’s reaching down towards Syrsee. He’s going to give her that drop. But then he pauses, just for a moment, like he’s having second thoughts. He even glances over at me, like he’s asking for permission.
“Don’t,” I tell him. But I’m not really telling him not to give it to Syrsee. I’m just telling him to give it to me. And he knows this, so his hesitation ends and his fingertip presses between Syrsee’s closed lips and he gives her that drop of blood.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR - SYRSEE
Filled with cravings.
Him. Himself. The vampire Paul. He’s standing over me as I attempt to force my eyes to open all the way. It’s a losing battle. “Lucia…” My mouth is dry and this word is really nothing more than a rasp.
“Don’t worry about her, darling.” Paul is actually smiling. “She’s been dealt with. How are you feeling?”
How am I feeling? I take a deep breath, but just end up coughing it back out.
“Yes. I can imagine.” Paul’s fingertip swipes against my lip and I taste blood.
I spit and writhe, trying not to take his blood. But I’m still chained to the wall and there’s not much I can do. He forces his finger inside my mouth and then he leans down to my face, so close to me I can feel the heat of his breath. “If you bite me, I will enjoy it. And you will get more than your share of my blood, sweets. So don’t do that. Just take what I offer. We need to get going now. Ryet is here. Right next to you.”
I turn my head and I swear, the pain shoots right through my brain. Like a spear has pierced my skull.
“She gave you some nasty, nasty stuff, Syrsee. But it will only take a moment to wear off now that my blood is inside you. Did she make promises to you?”
I don’t answer him or even open my eyes.
“I’m sure she did. And perhaps you even thought it was a fair trade. But you haven’t heard my promise yet. So don’t make any more deals without me. OK, love?”
There is a low groan next to my ear and I startle.
“Shhhhh.” Paul isn’t talking to me anymore. He’s talking to Ryet.
“Paul. No.”
“Quiet now, Ryet. We’re ready to begin. In just a few minutes you’re going to feel much, much better. Let me just get you properly situated.”
Paul maneuvers Ryet’s body so that his mouth is poised right in the crook of my neck. Ryet’s breath tickles the tiny hairs near my ear and a craving rises inside me as I close my eyes, waiting for what comes next.
I want him. I do. I want to love him, and be with him, and feed him.
But Ryet turns his head, moaning again. “No. No!”
There is a struggle. I don’t open my eyes to watch it because it doesn’t even matter.
He’s going to bite me.
He’s going to drink me.
And I’m going to love it.
Just as I think this last thought, I feel the tip of his teeth. The fangs. The ones he showed me back at the spa. I hold my breath, waiting for it, knowing how it feels, but still so surprised when he sinks them into me and I moan like I’m having an orgasm.
Paul is delighted. He’s talking. Animated. Happy. I can’t process his words, just his mood. And Ryet is climbing on top of me now, sinking his whole face into my neck, drawing the blood out of me. With every suck I want to explode from the bliss.
The bliss.
I don’t know how much time passes. I think I black out. Which, now that I’m coming to again, makes sense. Because Lucia took so much.