Page 95 of Blood Owed (Blood Mafia 1)
“You drive a hard bargain, Demetria.” Mateo finishes his blood old fashioned. “My decision to keep Colt and Grayson from you may have been made rashly.”
Demi scoffs but shuts up when he pins her with an annoyed glare.
“But,” he continues, “I’ve come to see the benefit of allowing your relationships to continue to grow.”
If I weren’t his second in command and afraid of his retribution, my palm would smack my face hard enough to knock me out.
What was he thinking?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mateo
Murder flashes across her face at my words. It’s hard to ignore such pointed rage, but I do, casually finishing my drink as she seethes.
Being alive for centuries upon centuries allows you to learn how to push buttons. While I’ve given her precisely what she wanted, and had planned to before her little dramatic outburst, I gave her permission.
She’s stuck between wanting to snap my neck and junk punch me. Colt’s still hovering over her, so I know she won’t get far. My blood in her veins is amplifying all of her emotions and likely explains her irrational and unnecessary death threat.
Unfortunately for her, I can’t hand her all of her wants on a silver platter. I have to play my part of the vicious mafia boss who’ll drain you dry if you so much as breathe wrong. She’s too comfortable with me, too secure in knowing I won’t kill her.
She needs to fear me, if only for her own safety. There are only so many people who would tolerate a human, let alone a Hunter, demanding things from a vampire.
“So what little piece of my history do you have for me?”
Her question takes me by surprise; I expected to be berated or at the very least insulted.
“Patience, Demi. I’ll give it to you after dinner.”
Demi
Slamming my apartment door closed, I kick off my shoes and jerk my refrigerator open. Then I close it roughly, grumbling about the severe lack of alcohol.
Mateo hadn’t given me shit. We’d eaten in the restaurant—the pasta was divine by the way—and then the three of them were infuriatingly silent on the way home. They ignored me, which is a near impossible feat because I know I can be annoying as hell.
Then Grayson steered me toward the elevator and pressed the button for my floor before leaving me alone inside the lift.
Liars.
Dirty rotten liars.
Well, technically Mateo was the only liar. I slam a cabinet closed when all I see are chips and pretzels.
Is wine or a bottle of rum too much to ask for right now? The small buzz the wine at dinner gave me has subsided and I’m not nearly as faded as I’d like to be.
I put on a brave front for all the men, hid my fear from them with a smirk and ballsy comebacks, but the run in with Blaze scared the shit out of me. Mateo’s blood wouldn’t have carried me far, I realize this now that the rush of feeding has gone.
There’s another reason for my hunt for alcohol. I’d foolishly let Mateo use the situation to his advantage, further sealing myself to him with another exchange of blood.
I eye the knives on my counter. There are at least three of them screaming Mateo’s name.
“Demetria, I can see your anger through the camera.”
I smack the counter when his voice cuts through my thoughts and scares the shit out of me. “You lied to me.”
Why am I so upset about this? Did I really expect honesty from the leader of the Blood Mafia?
He tsks. “I said I’d give you the information after dinner.”
