Page 67 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

She was definitely not falling in love with Ryker. That would be impossible because there was no way she would ever love the man who’d killed her family.

Anytime Brynleigh felt any emotions around Ryker, she shoved them down. Ignorance was bliss, after all.

When her fangs ached in his presence, she refused to acknowledge the desire blooming within her. Whenever his laugh made her feel a certain way, she bundled up those feelings and stuffed them deep inside. Every time he haunted her dreams, she woke up and refused to fall back asleep lest she think of him again.

She was the master of her emotions, not the other way around.

Fishing out cherry red lipstick from her makeup bag, Brynleigh applied it carefully to her lips. She needed the armor her makeup provided today more than ever before.

“You fucking hate him,” she told her reflection sternly. “You hate him, you hate him, you hate him.”

Why did the word hate sound suspiciously like another four-letter word? Something banned that she absolutely could not be feeling.

No.

This was not alright.

She hated Ryker Waterborn because that was the only acceptable response. Her mother, the gods be with her soul, had always said that love and hate were two sides to the same coin.

Brynleigh couldn’t love Ryker. Her hate was just… different now that she knew him.

That was it.

She would keep reminding herself of that fact, over and over and over again until it was true.

A knock came on the door, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“One minute.” Brynleigh placed the lid on her lipstick and wrapped her hair in a second towel before heading over and opening the door. “Yes?”

Matron Lilith stood in the hallway and grinned up at Brynleigh. “Mail delivery.” Giggling like a schoolgirl, she handed the vampire an envelope. “You’re in for a treat, my dear. Of all the dates planned for today, yours is the most intriguing.”

Brynleigh’s stomach fucking flipped. It somersaulted within her as though she was a teenager, not a fully grown woman, and a deadly vampire.

She grabbed that nervous excitement and forced it deep inside herself. There was no reason for her to be excited about going on a date with Ryker. No reason to wonder what they were doing or whether she’d enjoy it.

This was nothing but a means to a bloody end.

Closing her eyes, Brynleigh inhaled and forced herself to pull up memories she rarely thought of. She remembered the screaming, the burning of her lungs, the deluge of water pouring from the sky. Her heart raced at the recollection of seeing a tall man cloaked in shadows standing next to a smaller form at the edge of the forest.

That memory had haunted Brynleigh for months after her Making.

Jelisette had filled in the blanks for her progeny. The man wasn’t a man at all but a water fae. A captain in the army. He wouldn’t be prosecuted for the deaths he’d caused. Nothing would happen to him at all because his mother was a Representative.

That was why Jelisette was helping Brynleigh. As a new vampire, no one would see her coming, making her the perfect weapon to teach the Representatives a lesson.

A hand landed on Brynleigh’s arm, pulling her out of her thoughts. The Matron must have mistaken the vampire’s pause for excitement because her smile was kind. “I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time with the captain. Go ahead and finish getting ready. I’ll return to escort you in an hour.”

Brynleigh thanked her and slipped the door shut. Letting the towel fall, she strode to the chair where her duffle bag sat. Tossing the envelope on the bed, she fished through her bag until she found the folded-up picture she sought.

Silver lined Brynleigh’s eyes as she gently unfolded the paper and ran a finger down the creases.

A beautiful, smiling face with dirty blonde hair stared up at Brynleigh. A moment captured in time, a memory lost in a torrent of water.

Brynleigh wiped away a tear and sniffled. “I miss you,” she whispered. “I’m getting closer, and I promise you, he’s going to pay for what he did.”

There was no answer. Of course not. Sarai’s voice had been stolen that night, along with her life. This picture had been taken days before the hurricane. Sarai’s blue eyes sparkled with joy, and her mouth was wide open, caught in a candid moment as she laughed at someone off-camera. She wore denim shorts and a red crop top. It had been her favorite outfit that summer.

Brynleigh had taken this picture, along with several others, but this was the only one that survived the tempest. It had been in her pocket when the storm struck.

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