Page 50 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

Brynleigh frowned. Her gaze darted between the blood and the phone on the doctor’s desk. Judging by the ache in her fangs and the hollowness in her stomach, she needed to feed, but she had no idea how long the doctor would be gone. This was the first phone she’d seen in weeks, and after the dream she’d had…

She had a call to make. Her lips pursed, and she quickly ran a dozen scenarios through her mind. In the end, her decision wasn’t difficult. She didn’t have long and needed to act now.

Her mind made up, she slipped her legs out from beneath the scratchy blanket. Her bare toes curled as they pressed against the frigid wooden floor, and she wondered where her shoes had gone. She banished the thought. There were bigger problems at hand.

Participants of the Choosing technically weren’t allowed contact with the outside world, but this was one rule she was willing to break. If someone came in, she’d think of an excuse.

Brynleigh perched on the edge of the desk, keeping an eye on the front door as she lifted the phone from its cradle. It was nothing like the sleek, rectangular cellphone she usually used. This one was larger than her hand and had a long, coiled black cord that hung off the side of the desk. It reminded her of the one on the kitchen wall growing up.

At the memory of her familial home, a surge of acerbic anger went through Brynleigh. That kitchen, with its bright sunshine yellow wallpaper with daisies and light blue cupboards, was gone.

Destroyed.

By him.

The same man whom she’d invited to touch her in her dreams.

Bitterness burned at the back of Brynleigh’s throat, and her grip tightened around the phone. She’d been an idiot but wouldn’t make that same mistake again.

This time, she’d follow the rules to a T.

The only good thing about the dream was that it hadn’t been real. She was the only witness to her extreme lapse in judgment. No one else had seen her break the rules.

Never again, Brynleigh vowed.

That was the first and last time Ryker would ever touch her, in dreams or reality. She would never let her guard down around him.

He was her enemy.

Dialing the number she’d memorized years ago, Brynleigh brought the phone to her ear and waited for it to connect.

It rang twice before someone picked up.

“Hello?” Jelisette sounded angry.

Shit. Little was more dangerous than an angry vampire, especially one as powerful and old as Brynleigh’s Maker.

Brynleigh shifted on the desk. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe her Maker didn’t want her to check in.

It was too late now, though. She’d already called.

She kept her gaze locked on the door and whispered, “It’s me.”

Jelisette sucked in a breath. “Brynleigh?” Her voice was slightly less venomous, but the icy tone remained. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know.” Brynleigh shook her head before she realized her Maker couldn’t see her. “There was an attack, and?—”

“I know about that. It’s all over the news,” the older vampire snapped. “Rebels attacked the Chancellor’s residence, triggering riots throughout Golden City. They’re still being contained. Zanri and I evacuated to the Western Region.”

Brynleigh’s eyes widened. This was worse than she’d imagined. “Did a lot of people die?”

“They aren’t reporting casualty numbers yet. What happened to you? The feeds to the Choosing went black when the first bomb went off, and they haven’t come back online.”

Brynleigh made a split-second decision not to tell Jelisette about almost falling into bloodlust. She’d never lied to her Maker before, but she didn’t want a lecture about being more careful. Besides, guilt was already a blade jabbing her conscience. She didn’t need Jelisette to tell her it was wrong, too.

“They moved us,” Brynleigh whispered, cognizant of the guard outside. “I’m in a cabin, and the air is colder. If I had to guess, I’d say we’re in the Northern Region.”

“Find out,” Jelisette ordered, her tone one Brynleigh had heard many times before.

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