Page 8 of Death Comes for Her
Dante spun me around and my back slammed into his chest. My head spun dizzily, and panic flared through me. The venom remaining in my system twisted my fear into a revolting craving for more. Tears spilled from the corners of my eyes, leaving tracks down my dirty face as I wrestled through my betraying needs.
I needed to flee—to escape. But days of riding the high of vampire venom altered my desires. Only more of that calamitous, addictive substance would scratch the new itch under my skin.
“We haven’t had a fairy in so long. You don’t want to sample her now?”
The dark-haired vampire traced rough, calloused fingers over the side of my neck. A ruinous thrill coursed through my insides, and a pang struck the deepest pit of my stomach. An unbidden moan slithered up my throat and escaped out my lips.
Simon’s pale brow arched.
Dante’s chest rumbled with his loud, barking laughter.
“She’s half-dead and pumped so full of venom she’d likely taste terrible.”
“Fairy blood is fairy blood.” Dante grunted, running his nose through my hair. “But perhaps you’re right. If few fair folk remain, who knows when we’ll get another opportunity such as this?”
“I won’t feed on the dirty little thing until she’s washed and at peak health.”
“Yes, we should savor her for a while.”
Struggling through the haze sweeping over my mind and the inferno rushing through my insides, I registered the intent behind the exchange. Understanding latched onto the withering rationale in the back of my mind and snapped me out of my heady stupor.
The remaining bile in my stomach churned, then surged up the back of my throat. I promptly vomited on the floor seconds before my vision went black.
Chapter 3
Muscular arms held me. My head lolled around uselessly from being jostled about. Brief images flashed across my vision as my lashes fluttered. Dark walls, heavy drapes, strange lights kept low. A hallway?
Pale wraiths with narrowed eyes leered from the shadows.
The swaying motion around me sent me reeling. Arms cradling me gripped tighter when I shivered. The rumbling hum of his chest against my cheek comforted something within me I wanted to refuse.
“She’ll be a perfect little fucking toy, won’t she?”
I wanted to scream, but my lips rejected the urge.
∞∞∞
Cold, slender fingers unlaced the shredded fastening of my dress. Delicate yet masculine touches followed, tracing the curves of my body as the stained fabric melted in a forgotten puddle on the rugs. Those long, skilled digits lingered a moment along my spine—hesitant and curious.
Eyes weighing a ton, I couldn’t see who I was with or where I was. I felt myself being lowered. Scalding water kissed my skin and deft fingers loosened the knots from my hair.
My muscles relaxed a fraction, but my insides continued shuddering with recent upheaval. Vanilla and cinnamon scented soap wafted through the air as gentle hands lathered me up.
Golden dried blood flaked off into the water, making the suds glitter on my skin.
“What an interesting find you are,” a wintery voice intoned, not sounding half as frigid as he had before.
∞∞∞
“How much blood did she lose?” An unfamiliar male voice rasped. He sounded old, or maybe just tired. Warm fingers traced the puncture marks at my throat. My body flinched from the unexpected sensation on my tender flesh.
“Unsure. She was with a group of vampires for days,” a bored voice drawled.
Carefully, exploring hands skimmed down my arms before grabbing my hands. A soft noise slipped out and my heavy lids refused to open. I shifted on my back, vaguely aware of the softest mattress I’d felt in years enveloping me.
“Her hands and feet are freezing despite the bath. Her breathing is short. Very tired and weak.” Fingers pressed into my wrist. “Irregular heartbeat as well.”
“Half-dead. Like I said.”
