Page 93 of Bite of Sin

I twisted my chained wrists, jerking my arms slightly in annoyance. “There’s an entire warehouse of hawthorn. Government building. We have plans to get rid of it. But if you can get to it before us, then go for it. I’ll give you the coordinates tomorrow.”

“You’re dragging it out,” she mumbled. “Tim won’t like that.”

“I really don’t give a shit right now. He’s lucky he’s getting this.”

I didn’t open my eyes, waiting for the sounds of her getting up and leaving. Time passed, but she stayed on the floor near me with her heart rate fluctuating. I didn’t even have the energy to fight with her anymore today. Which pissed me off because I loved riling her up.

“Why are you still here?” I grunted. “I gave you what you wanted.”

“Does Garrett come in here every time I leave?”

Her question surprised me, and I cracked an eye open to look at her. “Why do you care?”

She played with the end of her ponytail. “I don’t know.”

Her answer was the same as mine, and we stared at each other for a moment before her eyes roamed over my face.

“You look sick,” she murmured.

“I am.”

“You need blood.”

“Mm,” I hummed out in agreement.

“Is it painful?”

I frowned, not liking showing my weakness. But she could easily see something was wrong with me. Not that I’d be acting like this if Garrett was in here. “Yes.”

She nodded, stretching her legs and leaning back on her hands. She didn’t say anything, looking content to just sit there. My eyelids fluttered closed again, and I heaved out a pained breath. Fuck. This was getting worse much faster than I expected.

“Here.”

I snapped my eyes open to see her standing right next to me. She crouched down and shoved her wrist into my face.

“What are you doing?” I asked slowly.

“You need blood,” she answered, her voice uneven.

If I thought I was shocked when she went down on me earlier, it was nothing compared to right now. I gaped at her, unsure of what to even say.

“You want me to feed from you?” I asked roughly.

“You won’t even be conscious in a couple of hours if you don’t,” she said stiffly. “How can I ask you more questions if you can’t even talk?”

I chuckled. “Right. You’re not offering because you care.”

“Definitely not.”

“I can’t feed from your wrist,” I said, keeping my eyes on hers. “Not unless I can hold it. The vein is small, and I’d need to maneuver your arm where I need it.”

“You can’t bite my neck,” she retorted. “Everyone will see.”

“Mm,” I mused. “I’d love that. I want them all to see my marks on you.”

She scowled. “Watch it, Zan. Or I won’t freely offer this again.”

“Your thigh, then. You can cover that.”

---