Page 46 of Blood Caged

I pause, my eyes lifting up to her face. Our gazes lock for a moment; there’s confusion in her eyes, or maybe surprise at her own reaction. She quickly looks away again, her mouth set in a stubborn line.

“I’m sorry,” I say as the needle punctures her skin. She flinches almost imperceptibly, taking in a sharp little breath. It shouldn’t hurt much. I spent an hour practicing this skill before I got here. Still, something strange swirls inside me at the thought of causing her pain.

She gives her head a small shake. “Didn’t feel a thing.” Her voice is husky.

And I swear that I have to be the world’s most twisted fuck because it sounds…sexy.

I clear my throat softly, searching for a way to break the heavy silence that’s fallen between us. “So, Mia,” I begin, “I noticed you were reading when I came to get you. What book was it?”

She glances at me, surprise flitting across her features. “Why do you care?”

I shrug, careful not to disturb the needle in her arm. “Just making conversation. Unless you’d prefer we sit here in awkward silence?”

“Awkward silence suits me fine.” The set of her jaw is stubborn.

“Come on. Humor me.” I want to take her mind off what’s happening.

Why care? She’s supposed to be evil.

Although I still can’t sense it.

Mia rolls her eyes, but I catch the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “It’s ‘Pride and Prejudice,’ if you must know.”

“Ah, Jane Austen,” I nod. “A classic.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’ve read it.”

“I may be a vampire, but I’m not uncultured,” I reply, a touch of amusement in my voice. “Though I must admit, I prefer ‘Sense and Sensibility.’”

Mia lets out a short laugh, then quickly catches herself. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises?”

As we continue to talk, I can feel the tension in the room slowly easing. We discuss literature, moving from Austen to more modern authors. I’m pleasantly surprised by Mia’s sharp wit and insightful comments.

“You know,” she says after a while, her tone softer than before, “for a bloodsucking predator, you’re not terrible company.”

I feel an unexpected warmth at her words. “High praise indeed,” I reply dryly, but I can’t help the small smile that forms on my lips.

Our eyes meet, and for a moment, there’s a spark of something between us – a connection that goes beyond captor and captive. But then Mia seems to remember where she is and who I am. She looks away quickly, the warmth in her eyes replaced by guarded wariness.

I’m acutely aware of Mia’s presence as we sit in this sterile room. Her scent envelops me; sweet, warm, alive…enticing. It’s maddening how it fills my senses, threatening to overwhelm my carefully maintained control.

“You okay?” I ask when I realize we’ve fallen into silence again.

“Never better,” she quips. “Bloodletting is my favorite thing to do…after filing tax returns.”

“That’s good to know.” I glance down at where the bag is beginning to fill; rich, dark, ruby-red. I snap my eyes away. For some reason, seeing her blood unsettles me.

The sound of her breathing fills the silence between us. It’s steady but with a slight catch that betrays her nervousness. I find myself unconsciously matching my own breaths to hers as if our bodies are falling into sync against our will.

Her warmth radiates toward me, a contrast to my own cool skin. I’m hyper-aware of every point where we’re almost touching – my fingers near her arm, our knees almost brushing. The urge to close that minuscule gap is nearly overwhelming.

I clear my throat, straightening slightly.

“Anything wrong?” She cocks her head slightly as she looks at me

I can hear her heartbeat, a steady rhythm that seems to echo in my ears. It’s faster than normal, betraying her anxietydespite her outward calm. The sound is mesmerizing, pulling at something primal within me.

“Hey!” she says sharply, catching my attention.

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