Page 21 of Stolen By the Vampire

I’m crying? She pressed the back of her hands to her eyes, wiping away the tears. “I just… you don’t even eat. And you set up a whole picnic down to the wicker basket.”

Okay, a wicker basket with gilded reeds and a heavily embroidered cloth, but his extravagant tastes coming out for something so simple was all the more charming.

“But you do,” he said, confused. “I’ve told you, I’d never see you go without. Not food, not anything.”

She kissed him.

She hadn’t even realized she was moving until she was on her tiptoes, grabbing the lapels of his cape and dragging him down to crush his lips against hers. For once, she’d taken the vampire off guard. But, oh, if she’d thought she had the upper hand. Silas turned the kiss sinful with a single flick of his tongue, and she savored every second of it.

By the time they parted, she was breathless, her chest heaving slightly. Silas, of course, not needing to breathe, didn’t mirror the action, but his carefully combed back waves had returned to their natural wild state. She liked him like this—a little wild.

“You’re pleased.”

She laughed. “Aren’t you observant?”

“I hope you don’t kiss everyone who makes you smile like that. Or else I’ll have to make sure I’m the only one.”

He was already the only one who made her feel this carefree, but she didn’t need to tell him that. “Just vampires who kidnap me.” Incredible that they’d come so far, she could actually tease him about that.

But Silas didn’t laugh with her. His expression turned more serious, brows furrowing. “You can use the map for more than a game, you know.”

She frowned. He gently took the parchment from her, spreading it on the ground between them as they sank to their knees.

“It will lead you through the cliffs. Either back home, or to the lands beyond. You can use it any time you wish; I won’t take it from you.”

What was he saying? “Not with your thrall, I can’t.”

The vampire shook his head. He’d avoided her gaze for the moment, but now he met it head-on. His eyes glowed as he intoned, “Esmae Mellodi, I release you from all compulsion. You are your own creature once more.”

She blinked in shock, rocking back over her heels. She didn’t feel any different, yet her magic tingled, sensing the release of the thrall. “But… our bargain.”

“Be bound to me no longer, Esmae. Not unless you wish it. How can I take from the one I wish to give everything to?” He sounded almost lost.

“Everything?” she echoed.

“Everything. Anything, even forever. I would deny you nothing, witch. If you wish to leave, I will give you a map. If you wish to stab me, I will hand you the blade.” His expression turned rueful. “There could be nothing more monstrous than keeping an adventurer from the world. No matter my reasons, I will not keep you captive. Never again.”

From the picnic basket, he drew a copper blade. The same she had attacked him with, honed and polished into a stronger weapon than it had been in her hands. All her supplies were gone; she had only that which she’d stashed in her trouser pockets before leaving.

For a moment, all she could do was stare. This was so much more than a little game or a bit of flirting. Silas had always been forthright in his words… could he really mean it? Forever for a vampire was an eternity. Anything, even his life? He’d let her kill him, not even knowing it was what was required to save her life.

She’d do nothing of the sort.

“You mean it all. You won’t take my blood against my will, won’t keep me here. You’d let me turn the river red with your blood… with this blade.”

“I’d be glad of it. Because it would hurt less than seeing you wilt under captivity.”

She swallowed. It was hard to breathe, let alone think straight. Her pulse raced, and even though Silas had so diligently focused on her face, his gaze dropped just slightly to the pulse point in her neck the way his vampire instincts demanded.

Well, gods blast it all. She liked the vampire. She liked his maps, she liked his wit, she liked his face, and she certainly liked his fangs. Maybe that made her a traitor to the rest of witchkind, but so be it. He’d been a truer friend than any of her brethren.

“You’re not owed my blood.”

He tore his gaze from her neck.

“But I want you to have it, anyway.”

Silas started, then froze. Supernatural stillness, his chest unmoving, his eyes unblinking. “Because you find it pleasurable?”

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