Page 36 of How to Entice a Fiend

“I’ll try,” I say. “Are you ready? Once you see this, you’re going to feel so inferior you’ll never be able to look me in the eyes again.”

He just stares at me. I dig my fingers into the metal chain hanging from the ceiling and lift my body up.

“I really can see your ass crack now,” Ender says. “It’s actually getting worse—and what is this?”

“I’m not very flexible,” I whine as I try to lift myself up to kick it. My foot goes right through the bulb, shattering it and raining fragments of glass down on us.

I lower myself back down and stare at the wall.

“Are you refusing to talk because you’re so embarrassed over your idea and the execution of it?” Ender asks.

“No, dammit.”

He doesn’t seem convinced.

And all I know is that there’s more breeze on my ass cheeks than ever.

The minutes stretch on into hours as I decide that there has to be a way out of this. There has to be something I’ve missed, but Ender clearly isn’t doing well and I have nothing to work with.

When the two men come again hours later they rough me up, but when I refuse to talk, they surprisingly leave me be with a broken nose and bloody face.

“Hey, Ender, buddy, how are you doing over there?”

He slowly lifts his head. The effects of the drug that entered his body seem to be making him suffer even more. I bet it’s because the longer he goes without blood, the harder it is on his body to recover from it.

“You’re looking a bit…” I cock my head. “Ghastly. Yes, that’s the word.”

“Fuck. You.”

“I would consider it. I have been known to make horrible decisions in the bedroom,” I say.

“Do something of use.”

“I’m pouring all of my smarts into the grandest of escapes,” I assure him.

“We’re doomed, then.”

“Now that’s the spirit!”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ENDER

It’s been over a day, and I feel no better than when I woke up in this hell. Honestly, I feel worse. I’m confident that if I don’t consume blood soon, I’m going to lose myself or die. Is that what they want? Why did I make such a fucking mistake? How did I fuck up so badly? I should have just stayed home with Rylee. I bet she’s in distress… she’s never going to forgive me. She’s going to flip and flop on the floor of my bedroom for the rest of our lives so I’ll never have a good night’s sleep again… if I live through this, that is.

The door opens and I’m in such a state that I don’t even realize who it is until he speaks. The sound of his voice tears through me as my head snaps up, but he’s not looking at me. No… he’s fixated on Mads. He acts like I don’t even exist. Like even though I think ofhimevery fucking day, he can’t even be bothered to look over at me.

Abel has changed very little since the last time I saw him well over a hundred years ago. His dark hair is cut shorter, hisfacial hair neatly trimmed instead of the beard he once wore. His amber eyes are still as cruel as I remember them.

Anger and desperation rip through me. Ineedout of these shackles. He’s right here. Right here for me to tear apart, but I can’t even get myself free. I can’t even?—

“Mads, is it?” Abel asks as he walks up to him. “It’s a pleasure.”

“The way you walked in here makes me think it’s not so much a pleasure, but I’m willing to pretend.”

He grins at Mads as he steps in close to him. Mads looks a mess. His clothes are dried in blood, almost soaked in it. He obviously didn’t handle the fight he was in well at all. His ability to fight is absolutely nothing compared to the vampire standing before him. If he couldn’t handle eight vampires in his hotel, then this man would tear him apart with a mere brush of his hand.

But I will destroy him. I will ruin him. I will?—

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