“What kind of name is Drak anyway?”
“It’s my name.”
“Were you named after Dracula?”
“Bram Stoker’s Dracula came out in 1897. I’m much older than that.”
Even though we were having a conversation as casually as two people on the bus together, we were both out of breath, unable to peel our eyes away for even a second. My panties flooded, and we were close enough now, with our hips touching, that I could feel his growing arousal.
“So, maybe Dracula was based on you?”
The corner of his mouth tipped up less than an inch. “It was based on Vlad the Impaler. Who died before I was born. Not a nice guy, from what I’ve been told.”
“So maybe it was based on you. Hence the name?”
“Are you saying I’m not a nice guy?”
I huffed a laugh. “Maybe you were Vlad the Impaler and you’re older than you say you are.”
He didn’t respond.
Our words were no more than whispers. Sexy whispers between two people who couldn’t stand each other, yet neither person wanted to pull away. The longer we stood in that dark hallway, the more I needed to find out exactly what he’d do to me if given the chance.
“You’re a control freak,” I said, my chest rising and falling faster than ever.
“And you’re a brat who takes unnecessary risks.”
“You have boundary issues.”
“You don’t know when to listen to reason.”
“I could toast your brain right now.”
“Then do it.” The way his pupils darkened to absolute midnight was mesmerizing.
Our faces were inches apart now. He had my back against the wall, boxed in by his enormous, broad frame.
I swallowed, and his gaze dropped to my throat. To my neck, and what I’m sure was a plump, juicy vein. “What happens when you bite? Will it turn me into . . . you?”
Another ghost of a smile. “No. Only Phaceanesh turn people, if they can control themselves not to completely drain the person and kill them. My species is only born.”
Well, that was a relief.
“You will feel pleasure unlike anything ever before,” he added. “When I bite you.”
I swallowed again and licked my lips. His gaze followed my tongue and his nostrils flared.
“You need to stop following me.”
“No.”
No?
Just “no”?
Well, that got my temper flaring again. I tried to shove him away, but he wouldn’t budge. The capsule from the spellcaster was wearing off, and he was getting stronger by the second.
Huffing and puffing, I glared up at him. “You’re such an asshole.”