Page 78 of Blood Owed (Blood Mafia 1)
Hey, a woman has needs and Grayson didn’t pack my vibrators. Yes, plural. Every woman needs at least three. A clit teaser, a bunny vibrator, and then a girthy one that requires a little extra work but is worth it in the end.
I’m mulling over my lack of entertainment when someone knocks on my door.
“Finally.” I let out a low breath and wait a few more seconds before going to open it. I don’t want to seem eager.
“Oh, it’s you,” I say when I see Evelyn’s smiling face.
Her lips lower slightly. “Still in a sour mood, I see. I’ve come to see if you’ve changed your mind and want to go shopping.” She waves a card around. “My treat.”
While I’m not sure I like Evelyn, anything is better than staying cooped up in this apartment.
“Sure, but I can pay for my own stuff. Can we stop by my real apartment?”
She tuts. “You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?”
I press my lips together, ignoring how she talks to me as though I’m an insolent child, and shrug. “I know better than to be in debt to a vampire.”
Evelyn’s smile is brilliant and blinding. “Demetria, you’re already in debt, my love.”
Closing my eyes and shaking my head, I fight to keep my clenched fists at my side. “What are you talking about?” I finally ask.
Wrapping her fingers around my arm, she pulls me out of the apartment, linking her arms with mine.
I decided walking is better than being dragged and move my feet so as not to fall on my face.
“What do you think my brother wants with you?”
“Mateo wants to use me,” I say, then add on a growl, “I just don’t know what for yet.”
She pats my arm. “There, there. Everything will make sense soon enough.”
“Do you know what I am?”
“Perhaps,” she says with an annoying smirk. “It’s not my story to tell.”
Of course it isn’t. Mateo wants to keep his little surprise until he’s ready to tell me everything. I can only hope he’s honest. All I have is a slim hope that whatever he tells me is true.
I think over her words and her reminder that I’m nothing more than a tool. Even though they took me from my home and kept me prisoner for a few days, somehow, I owe Blood Mafia a debt.
Something tells me paying up will be near impossible. Or at the very least, something I’ll deeply regret.
We getout on the lowest floor—level B3—and I follow Evelyn into a barely lit parking garage filled with expensive flashy cars and SUVs. Blood Mafia spares no change when it comes to rides, and I try not to let my jaw hang open when Evelyn slips into the seat of a lime green Lamborghini Diablo.
Ever so carefully, I open the passenger door, easing into the low seat and gently shutting it.
“Holy shit,” I say, running my hands over the decadently soft leather seat.
The interior is black with lime green trim. The dash lights up a fluorescent red and the engine rumbles when she turns the ignition. My seat vibrates from all the horsepower sitting under the hood and a tremble of excitement rushes over me.
Evelyn punches in the clutch, shifts into reverse and zips out of her parking spot. She shoots me a devious smirk. “Do you trust me?”
“Absolutely not.”
She pouts. “Well, in time, I guess. Buckle in, Demi. You’re far more breakable than I am, and I don’t drive slow.”
I hurriedly click my seatbelt in place and grab on to the bar on the door. Evelyn shifts gears and the Lambo lurches forward. She winds up the three level sub-ground parking garage faster than I ever would in a car like this. When we reach the exit, she guns the engine, peeling onto the street and making a few cars slam on their brakes. The honks hardly register over the roar of her engine.
“Demi, be a dear and find some music.”
