Page 18 of The Veil of Blood and Magic

“It’sthreetimes,” I hiss. “Don’t they teach you that at your drifter school? What’s it called again, Traitors United?”

“Easy, dove,” Jagger warns, his eyes jumping between Zev and my little stare down.

“No,” I snap. “He’s making it hard. I’ve offered up two very good solutions on how to not kill me before handing me over to the Collector and he’s acting like I’m trying to run again. I’m not.”

“I don’t believe you,” Zev growls.

Instinct purrs in my blood, whispering at me to soften my gaze, to push out my breasts, and send my influence into this frustrating wall of a male. But I can taste him now, a spiced chocolate flavor on my tongue, and he has no desire for me whatsoever. Not even the little bittersweet hint I tasted back atThe Red Lion.

This drifter will not be seduced into believing me.

So I’ll have to show him.

I sigh, shaking my head as I pull my wrists apart, my strength still powerful enough to shred through the thick, expertly knotted ropes with half a thought. I do the same with my legs, spreading them slightly as I pop my hands on my hips.

“See?” I ask, and almost laugh at the shock on both their faces. “I’m being a good little monster and not running. You’re magic stings and leaves a massive hangover. I don’t want to die.”

Not yet.

“If you run?—”

“Iwon’t,” I say, exasperated.

Zev slowly steps into my space, a tall wall of muscle and disdain as he glowers down at me. “If you run, succubus,” he says, a low warning in his tone. “Iwillchase you. And I won’t stop until you’re caught.”

A ripple of warmth shivers over my entire body, shaking loose an ache that is desperate to be soothed. What the fuck is wrong with me? He’s threatening to kill me, not fuck me into oblivion.

Goddess, I need to feed.

“Understood,” I say, doing my best to quell the need churning in my core.

Zev’s nostrils flare, just a fraction, and his eyes widen, almost like he can scent my desire. I don’t dare look away, don’t dip my head in shame. My body is reacting to a long-put-off need, nothing more.

It has absolutely nothing to do with the way he’s terrifying and alluring at the same time. Nothing to do with the way he’s built—all strong and powerful and most certainly not breakable. Nothing to do with the fact that both of these drifters could handle me and then some.

Nothing to do with the fact that I’ve been craving exactly that for ages now.

Nope. Not. At.All.

“Destowne,” Jagger says, his liquid velvet voice breaking through the staring competition Zev and I are holding.

I win. Naturally.

“Destowne,” Zev grumbles, turning to the horse and stroking his flank one more time before he tugs gently on the reins, turning it west.

Jagger hangs back, falling into a slow, steady rhythm at my side as we follow behind Zev.

“Is he always this…” I search for the word, unable to land on the correct one. “Grumpy?”

Jagger laughs, and the sound is just as warm as his voice, tickling along my skin in a delightful way. He’s my captor, but also my ticket inside the palace, so I shouldn’t think his laugh is inviting, but I can’t really help it.

“He’s worse in the mornings,” he answers.

“I’ll be sure to wake him up before dawn, then,” I say.

Jagger wets his lips, his wide, effortless smile showing off straight, white teeth. “Brave, dove,” he says. “Reckless, but brave.”

I flash him a look, silently assuring him he hasnoidea just how reckless I can be.

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