Page 27 of Her Blood Revenge

Control. I’m good at control. I’d dearly like to tear his head off and spit down his neck. And yet, here we sit. Me with my hands on my lap. And him, still very much with his head attached to his shoulders.

No matter how hard I try, I cannot get my teeth to return to normal.

Shaw takes my hand. His thumb still bleeds, but he pays no mind.

‘Try this,’ he says. ‘I find it helped me to keep my composure and allowed me time to contemplate a path when faced with the need for quick decisions.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like if I wished to kill a man or let him live.’

‘You ever allowed a man to live if you have thought of killing him?’

‘It’s been known,’ he shrugs. ‘Watch and pay attention, Pixie. I want you to rest each of your fingers onto your thumb one at a time and count, pressing the tip of the nail into your thumb on each number. As you do, take long and deep breaths, and in your head, say the number. Think of nothing else but the number. One.’ He presses my little finger to my thumb, digging in the nail so it hurts. ‘Two.’ The next finger. ‘Three.’ He does this with each finger and then repeats it on my other hand.

As he counts, I count, too, filling my head with nothing but the number. The dullness of it. The predictability of it. I focus on my breathing. On my chest rising and falling. And I count.

‘There,’ he says. ‘Your teeth are back to normal—dull and uninteresting.’

‘Only you would find razor-sharp fangs the opposite of dull and uninteresting.’

‘Where is the fun in anything if it cannot kill or seriously maim?’ he asks with a smile.

‘Where indeed,’ I reply.

The moment of ease takes me off guard, and I pull my hands away. His fingers flex a little at the loss of my touch, and he returns his hands to his lap, waiting for my next move.

‘You have no idea where Cole is?’ I askagain. ‘You’re not just keeping me in the dark?’

‘We do not know.’

‘Would you even tell me if you did know?’

‘Unsure. But seeing as I don’t know, it’s no matter.’

‘What about the earth grimoire?’ I ask.

‘I told you. Cole stole it. I imagine it is with him.’

‘It should be with the coven. That’s where their laws state it belongs.’

‘Cole isn’t at the coven, Pixie. No one has seen him since… that night.’

‘What would I have to do to visit the coven and see if it is there?’ I ask.

‘I imagine ride a horse. Your old village isn’t exactly walking distance.’

‘I meant, what would I have to do to get you to allow me to go? That’s how this works, right? My blood for my snake. So what do you want in exchange for letting me come along to my old coven?’

‘I know what you meant, Pixie. I was being sarcastic because the suggestion of you walking into a coven that sliced and diced you the last time they saw you is worthy of nothing more than my sarcasm.’

He shifts closer and rests his hands on my knees. I swallow dryly. He waits, searching my eyes in an attempt to read a reaction. His thumbs trace back and forth. I don’t budge. I don’t flinch. And I ignore the betrayal of my body as a shiver of excitement ripples through me.

‘So, what are you willing to do if I allow you to come along?’ he asks.

‘What do you want?’

Laughing, he shakes his head.

---