Page 25 of Greer's Change

“See if you can override the compulsion,” he says, like I should already know this. “I can’t find him to murder him if she can’t give me any details without risking frying her brain.”

A heavy sigh rattles from my lips.

How did I know he was going to say that? Now I have to worry he’s going to get himself into trouble because of that woman.

Lovely.

Chapter Eleven

Reign

Tonight certainly is looking up. I’ve spent much time recalling the way Greer’s fangs felt buried in my throat and even more contemplating her situation. It seems I’m finally on the edge of getting some answers, which would normally make me less interested. Things are only intriguing until the mysterious shine wears off, but I’m beginning to think that logic doesn’t apply to the sweet fledgling vampire.

“This place is nice,” Greer says, struggling to keep up with my long strides as I lead us toward the VIP bar on the second story of Chaos.

“Thank you.” Slowing my pace, I place my hand on her hip so we don’t get separated in the small crowd of people.

Is it unlikely?

Yes, but I need an excuse to touch her. Keeping her close under the guise of safety is a perfect farce.

“Would you like me to order for you?” I ask as we get close to the bar.

She turns to me, blinking her big gray eyes. “I’m actually not feeling well. Could you point me toward a restroom?”

My head tilts.

She’s a vampire.

She should never experience any feelings of being unwell.

There’s no chance to voice my confusion, because she turns to the side, desperately scouting for something. When she doesn’t find it, she leans over, violently vomiting pitch-black blood all over the floor.

My eyes widen.

Fuck me.

I’ve never seen anything like it. Stepping forward after her, my hand lands on her right hip to give her some protection from being jostled into by the now-fleeing patrons.

I swivel, waving at the bartender. “Call someone to clean that up. Close this section if necessary.” With that, I scoop up the still-heaving newly turned vampire and take off for Novak’s office.

The hallways have never been this long before, or if they have, I failed to notice. It’s an equally miserable trip through the stairwell while listening to her whimper before Novak’s office door comes into focus. If I had been thinking clearer, I could have siphoned us there to save the jostling of the trip.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers.

“None of that,” I murmur, reaching for the door handle.

Novak and Seiran’s arguing greets us as I pull open the door with a little too much force. We barely make it three steps into the room before she stretches away from me, vomiting again.

“What the fuck?” Seiran growls, stomping over. “What happened?”

“We didn’t even manage to get a drink. Something is very wrong.” I glance around for Novak, who watches Greer with wide eyes.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, swiping a hand over his face.

Seiran takes Greer from me, placing himself down on the far end of the sofa. He brings her to sit in his lap, facing the room.

I head toward the trash can next to Novak’s desk and gather it to prepare to set it in front of Greer.

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