Page 34 of Flock This

“Cleaning?” I said, unsure what else to say.

Kelvin snorted and moved his gaze from me to the other vampire. “This girl here is the one who got away.”

“You mean…?” the other vampire asked, hesitation in his voice.

“That’s right. She’s mine.” Kelvin stroked his finger down my cheek, the touch threatening. “Welcome home, my thrall.”

Chapter Ten

I had to say, walking alongside Kelvin lacked any sort of strolling-down-the-beach feel. Instead, it had the vibe of a man dragging a dead body down an alleyway.

At least I knew better than to say a word, especially because of the rare vampire we passed along our way. He pulled me into an elevator near the back—one I hadn’t had access to before—and jammed his finger against the button for the nineteenth floor, one well above the space where I was allowed.

The elevator sped along, smooth and quick until the doors opened. He walked again, his steps fast enough I had to rush to keep up. When we passed anyone, Kelvin smiled in a way that made him look like he wasn’t getting ready to murder me.

This is why I should never trust Kelvin.

Finally, he yanked me into a room, closing and locking the door behind us. I tripped, my momentum from him all but throwing me forward and almost landing me on my face.

Light spilled into the room, giving me a chance to look around. It was filled with fancy things, and not in the sparse, minimalist style I might have expected. Instead, the items were surprisingly warm, in darker neutrals and with plenty of wood. The main room was huge, with floor-to-ceiling glass windows along the back wall and the glittering lights of the sprawling city spread out before it.

“Aren’t you living large?” I muttered the question, expecting him to respond with a snarky jab the way we always did.

“What are you doing here?” His low, threatening voice slithered across my ear, so close that I gulped hard.

Everything in me wanted to spin, to keep him in my line of sight and put a little more distance between us. Except, the last thing I needed was to entice or excite that predatory nature of his, so I stayed still. “No idea what you mean.”

A sensation on my scalp finally made me twist, just enough to see the ends of my hair caught between two of Kelvin’s fingers. “I don’t like the brown.”

“Me neither,” I admitted. “But my old hair was pretty memorable. While people struggle to remember how I look, the blue stands out.”

“Please tell me you didn’t come to investigate William’s murder.” All the joking in his tone, the playful banter I was used to, had disappeared. It made him appear like a different person, his gaze still locked on my hair pressed between his fingers.

“Would you believe it if I told you no?”

“Of course not. You’re a liar—just like me. Do you have any idea who that vampire was just now?”

“An asshole?”

He didn’t even laugh—rude. “His name is Lima Yeshir, and he’s known for taking thralls that never last more than a month due to how rough he is on them. Worse, he never allows them to survive, even if they change. If I hadn’t shown up…” An unusual uncertainty rested in his striking blue eyes, his words trailing off as though he wasn’t sure how to finish the thought.

“I’d be fine,” I assured him with a forced laugh. “I’m always fine, right? I’ve been in some pretty bad situations, but I always get out of them.”

I thought he’d grab the peace offering and run with it, that he’d plaster on that familiar smile and joke about one of the many times he’d seen me at my worst, when he’d watched me flounder but somehow keep going. It was an evolutionary skill of mine, it seemed, to survive what would kill others, to make the best out of the worst. Or sometimes the worst out of the best.

Except, he didn’t. He remained perfectly still at first, and when he moved, the air rushed from my lungs, a pain in my back. It took a long moment for me to recognize what had happened.

My back pressed against the wall, a pressure around my throat that didn’t close off my airway but kept me trapped. Kelvin’s face was in front of me, staring down, with so much turmoil in his blue eyes that my chest tightened.

“He would have trapped you in his soundproofed residence, and I would have never even known where you were or what happened.”

“No one can trap me,” I argued.

“He takes a month off when he finds a new plaything. He doesn’t sleep, doesn’t leave, not until he’s finished. He wouldn’t need to lock the doors if he kept your limbs broken.” Each word he spat came out jagged and rough, as though forced from him. “You have no sense of danger. You’re like a yorkie who snarls at german shepherds because you have no idea how small and weak you really are. I’ve watched you rush around for years like a chaotic little storm, starting fires wherever you go, narrowly escaping the disasters you create, but never did I think you were this foolish.”

I should stay quiet. I should shut my mouth and just accept his anger. He’ll bluster around then calm down, like everyone does, and I’ll deal with him then.

Yep, that’s the smart thing. Lips together.

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