Page 116 of Mortal Shift
“Do you even hear yourself? They’re not in the business of kidnapping humans and locking them up at the academy.”
Well, that was something, at least. But it wasn’t a denial, either.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“No, I’m not here against my will. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to come.”
Okay,thatwas a denial. But there was something about his voice, his careful word choice, that didn’t quite add up. I’d been around the fae enough to know what someone didn’t say mattered as much as what they did.
“So if I told you that you could leave today and forget all about this, you wouldn’t be interested?”
“Got yourself a magic wand I don’t know about?” he asked by way of response. I shook my head and ignored his caustic tone.
“See, there you go again, sidestepping questions.”
“Look, what do you want from me? They told me what I was getting into, and I accepted. The end.”
“Is it, though? There’s something you’re not telling me, and I can see it in your eyes. You’re in pain. You hate being bossed around by the vamps, and you know what? I don’t blame you. Most of them are assholes.”
He sucked in a sharp breath and flicked a look up and down the deserted corridor.
“How are you even still alive?” he said, still scanning the corners like he was expecting a vamp to jump out at us any moment like the world’s suckiest jack in the box.
“Yeah, people keep asking me that. No clue. But I plan on staying that way, which means I’m not going to breathe a word about speaking to you to the vamps.”
“You should go before you get usbothkilled.”
“Tell you what. You tell me why you’re still here—the truth—and I’ll leave you alone. I swear.”
He shrugged. “It feels good, when they feed.”
I searched his face, then shook my head.
“No. That’s not it. That might be the one thing that makes it bearable for you, but that’s not why you stay. Not when they treat you like cattle.”
He slumped back against the wall and let out a groan of frustration, his forehead furrowing.
“Fine. I made a deal, and now I have to uphold my end of it. Okay?”
“No,” I said, “it’s not. It’s not okay that you’re being coerced into being here if you don’t want to be. What did they give you? Money?”
He barked a bitter laugh. “As if I’d sell my soul for money.”
I waited: he wasn’t done yet. After a moment, he seemed to fold in on himself.
“My sister. She was sick. Dying. The doctors couldn’t treat her—or wouldn’t. They said it was too risky. For them, they meant. They didn’t want her to die after their treatment and make their numbers look bad. Better she just died somewhere else. Then I met one ofthem. They said their healers would treat her…and all it would cost me was a little blood.”
“How much blood?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
“Four hundred pints.” He caught my confusion and added, “about five years’ worth.”
Fury and nausea battled for control as they burned their way up my throat, but I swallowed them both.
“How many pints do you have left?”
“A little over one fifty.”
I nodded. “And then you can be with your sister?”
