Page 27 of Infernal

My face warmed as pieces of our Truth or Dare session fluttered back to me.

Oh, God. The things I said to him. The things I admitted…

He moved closer, lowering his head as his eyes roved over me, honing in on the color my cheeks had taken. “If you ever wish to be released from that cage of yours, little dove…” His finger danced across my cheek. “I am at your service.”

I winced. He wastryingto hurt me—to embarrass me—and he was doing a good job of it too.

Maybe a little too good.

Angry, I smacked his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Why not?” He smiled coyly. “We both know you like it.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, taking him in piece by piece. As confident as he stood, with his taut shoulders pulled back and that self-satisfied grin on his lips, his eyes held a spark of something very different. Something based in fear. Fear of rejection. Fear of letting someone see you as you truly are and then throwing you away because of it.

Maybe that’s what he was doing. Maybe he was pushing me away because he was afraid that if he didn’t do it, I would.

“I don’t believe you,” I said. My voice was soft, though there wasn’t any hesitation in it. “You’re trying to hurt me.”

Irritation flickered in his eyes as he polished off the rest of his drink and walked back to the bar. “No. angel. You don’t want to believe me,” he said as he poured himself another drink. “That is yourthing, isn’t it? Pushing away the truth until you can no longer see it from where you’re hiding?”

Son of a—

Steeling myself, I followed him to the bar. “Thatwasmy thing. Past-tense. And at least I can admit it. That’s more than I can say for you.”

His shoulders tensed as I settled myself behind him. Something inside of me throbbed, probably the bloodbond, and suddenly, I wanted contact. I reached out and gently touched his back.

He raised his head, but he didn’t turn around.

“Look at me,” I demanded softly.

When he didn’t, I slid my hand to his shoulder and turned him around. His arrogant smirk smacked me in the face like a no holds barred insult. It was meant to deter me, to force me to back down. But I wouldn’t.

“Are you in love with me?”

His smile disappeared. “I already told you it was a mistake. I was intoxicated,” he said, biting out the words.

“You’re always intoxicated.”

“Touché.” He raised his glass to me and took a big, long sip.

“Are you in love with me?” I asked again. If it wasn’t true, if it was just some drunken rambling, why did he want me to forget it? Why did he erase that entire night?

His features darkened. “I’m warning you, angel. I’m not in the mood to play tonight.”

“Good, because neither am I.”

His back straightened into a perfect line. “Then leave it alone and go to bed,” he gritted out, his tone turning angry. “I’m not going to tell you again.”

Narrowing my eyes, I shook my head at him and took another brazen step forward. “I’m not going anywhere until you answer me honestly.” He could threaten and insult me all he wanted. I was going to get the truth out of him, even if I had to pester him all night for it. “Are you in love—"

He clamped a hand over my mouth and spun us around, leaning me backwards against the bar and barricaded me there with his body. “You ought to know better than to provoke me by now.”

My gaze dropped to his exposed fangs, but I didn’t falter. Not in the slightest. Pulling his hand away from my mouth, I said, “I’m not afraid of you.”

“No?” He pushed me further down, arching my back as he curled his body over mine. “You should be.”

Dangerous static charged the air between us as his eyes slid down to my neck, pausing there briefly before climbing back up to my mouth. His expression twisted as though he was at war with himself, at war with what he wanted to do more. And then he said, “Do you know how easy it would be to bleed you dry?”

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