Page 20 of Taken By the Ripper
“Always.”
For a few long moments, she stared back at him, debating between ducking beneath his arm to flee her room, and braving her fears to find out what he had planned.
Finally, she nodded and held perfectly still.
The heat of his body crossed the short distance between them as he took that last step toward her. His piercing yellow eyes penetrated her soul. His soft, gentle touch spurred her heart into an erratic, unexpected rhythm as he took her hand and brushed a thumb against her wrist.
And then surprise shook her to the core when he cradled her hand tenderly as if he were an infatuated gentleman rather than a creature she had watched tear apart two vampires with its very own claws.
“This will only hurt a little, but it will cause no lasting damage. I promise.”
Before she found a chance to break free from the spell of his ensnaring gaze, she inhaled sharply when she felt the sharp prick of his claw against her wrist.
Instinctively, she tried to snatch her hand back, but he held on tightly to prevent her from retracting it entirely. But then his grip loosened as if giving her the chance to take back her permission.
She didn’t.
Rather, she wanted to know the truth. Was she infected?
A small droplet of blood pooled on her wrist, a perfect circle created from the tiny pinprick of his claw.
He lifted her hand higher but then took her entirely off guard as his dark gray tongue caught the droplet from her wrist. Heat flushed through her face. Her chest. Her entire body. Until it felt as if she stood in the inferno of the blazing afternoon sun in the desert in the middle of summer. Fluster tied her tongue in a knot, preventing her from speaking anything more than a stuttering exclamation of shock.
Lastly, her heart betrayed her as it pounded against her ribcage, as her pulse thundered through her veins.
Surely, the ghoul could feel it where he held onto her hand, where his tongue licked another droplet off her wrist. And if he could somehow see in the dark, he likely wouldn’t miss the blush rising to her cheeks and giving her a rosy complexion.
The claws from the hand encircling her forearm brushed lightly against her skin, sending a wave of gooseflesh crawling to her shoulders. His touch was soft. Warm. And unexpectedly thrilling.
“And?” she whispered, watching the way his tongue ran across his bottom lip to catch the remainder of her blood. “Will you kill me? Or let me go?”
“Not you. No.”
She blinked several times as she realized she wasn’t sure which question he’d answered, and she didn’t get the chance to ask.
He said, “I hope you can convince your detective friend to stop looking for me. It will only end badly for him.”
“Detective La Cour is determined.”
“And that makes him foolish. Convince him to stop.”
But recalling the fierce determination in his every pore, she wasn’t sure anything she could say would convince him to call off his hunt for this…this…ghoul.
“I’ll try,” she promised instead.
“Good.” He flipped her hand over and lifted it to his lips, kissing the back of her fingers. Another flush scorched her, and the accompanying shock seemed to nail her feet to the floor and steal any lucid thoughts directly from her mind.
The ghoul dropped her hand suddenly right before the door on the opposite side of the room slammed open and hit the wall. Mazie stormed inside and pointed a furious finger at her.
“You went and got the package?” her sister shouted, eyebrows slanted downward with anger. “That was my job, and you should have let me do it. I was capable of doing it on my own without you interfering. Therefore, I went all the way to the post office today. For what? To find out you already picked it up?”
“I needed it yesterday, Mazie,” Clara replied calmly as she surreptitiously glanced over her shoulder. The ghoul lingered in the shadows, blended in with the wall well enough for Mazie’s eyes to pass over him entirely. “Although the mother died, the baby survived. I had no choice.”
Mazie stalked back toward the door but then spun around with her finger still pointing toward her. “You think you are better than us. You have always thought yourself better. Arrogant and condescending. I hate the way you treat me. Like my only strength is finding a husband. You think I’m stupid.”
“Mazie—”
But her sister spun on her heel and stormed out of the room, leaving a guilty silence in her wake.
