Page 39 of Lost Girl

Nevermind the fact he’s given the reason for their departure. I’m still stuck on one fact and one fact only. “They crossed the portal?”

“Mhmm,” the dark-haired man confirms.

All the air just about whooshes out of my lungs. So I was right to not trust Hook. He vowed to get me home and yet my one and only shot at getting there is now gone.

Vanished into thin air.

I knew his word meant nothing, that it was all just a way to distract me from harboring odious feelings toward his female after what she did to me.

Why I am so shocked then?

So let down?

Fuck Hook. Tavi’s coming for you. He’ll get you home,the hopeful side of me chimes. Whether he actually can is unknown, I’m just trying to deflect the blow and focus on something else.

“How long will they be gone?” I question, mentally beckoning Tavi to somehow sense they’ve left. If vampires can flash, maybe wolves can sense changes? Too far fetched? Maybe—I’m just a mortal, after all.

Again, just trying to deflect the blow.

Now would be theperfecttime for him to swoop in and take me away from these lying bastards. That’s another thing I see immortals have in common; they’re liars.

“A few days, I’d say,” the blond divulges, taking tentative steps toward me. “Why? Trying to gauge how much time you have to offer yourself up before they return?” He seems quite amused, more so still when my face contorts at his cheeky presumption.

“What? No.”

“You sure?” A smirk touches his lips as he sinks to his haunches before me. “Because we can arrange as much. Heard you’re an awfully tasty treat.”

My heart slams at his choice of words, a mental reel of unwanted memories starring Armand sabotaging what little remains of my sanity. I can all but feel the way his fangs sank into my neck, the indescribable pain that radiated through my limbs as he mauled me in nothing short of a vicious fashion, tearing my skin with each tug.

The moment I see the blond man’s hand extend toward me, I’m recoiling from his impending touch, pulse rampaging in my ears. “Please don’t. Not again.”

I’m shaking at the mere possibility, suddenly cold despite the humidity fogging the dungeon’s confines.

“I’m not like Armand, sweetheart. I make sure you’re feeling real good before I take what I need.” He twirls a lock of my hair.

His touch is gentle, his voice too, but then again, so was Armand’s.

“Pass, hard pass.” I shake my head, breathing through the wave of nausea churning my empty stomach.

“Oh, c’mon—just one taste. I’ll fuck your cunt so good you won’t even feel my fangs penetrate your—”

“Kaz, enough,” the dark-haired man barks.

Kaz, as he was addressed, groans, an irked sound that prompts me to watch for his next move. With a roll of his eyes, he pushes to full height and pivots toward his mate. “You are such abore,brother. Always ruining the excitement.”

“Yes, well, one of us has to be responsible. There’s a time and place to be bend the rules, and I can assure you now is not it. We were instructed to feed her, not feedonher.”

“Oh, cut the shit, Malik. You’re not exactly the straightest arrow in the bunch.”

“Never said I was, just reminding you that we were given a task and you’re straying from it. Now, let’s go—there’s plenty to choose from upstairs to ease your insatiable appetite.”

I’m not even perturbed by such a statement. He’s referring to the Puppets. I remember Tinksley mentioning them my second night here. Said they’d traded their freedom for a lavish life with only one condition on the dotted line—their blood. They’re living, breathing blood bags. How they’re alive after countless feedings, I don’t know. Hell, howI’malive after Armand’s assault is still a mystery.

But I don’t dare ask, and I won’t. I’m not sure I want to know anyway.

Kaz visibly contemplates Malik’s suggestion for several moments before dragging his gaze back to where I sit, then at the platter strewn just a few feet away. “Eat up, little one, before your breakfast spoils. I’ll be back later to clean up after you.”

“I’m not hungry,” I grate, keeping my head low.

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