Page 24 of Bleeding Love

Quiet, invisible, deadly.

I hesitated. If it was Roman and he was being obnoxiously loud to let me know he was back, he was probably taunting me to attack him again. In that case, I should definitely avoid him. If he was trying to warn me to stay out of his sight, I…perhaps, should probably face him to show him I wasn’t afraid of him. And if it wasn’t Roman…

I grabbed the kitchen knife, slowly getting to my feet. I held my skirt in my other hand, trying my best to make as little sound as possible. If it was Roman, then he could just find me by my heartbeat, but if it was another visitor…this could be my chance to get out. Maybe I needed to be walked out by someone with access in order to leave.

Holding my breath, I peeked into the corridor. I moved the knife behind my back so I wouldn’t scare or provoke them, but as I made my way to the front door, I found no one there. My heart dropped, and I let out a disappointed sigh.

So it had been Roman, and now he was avoiding me. That was probably better than waltzing into the room with a smirk on his face and demanding I had dinner with him.

There was a sound behind me, so quiet that I would have missed it if I hadn’t been listening intently for any indication of where in the house Roman had gone. I spun around, squeezing my knife harder, only to find him standing by the door leading to the reception room.

Except, it wasn’t Roman.

Tall and slender, the stranger wore a coat and pants in the darkest shade of blue. His eyes, slightly narrowed and bright red, studied me from head to toe as he cocked his head in contemplation. His light brown hair was tied in a low ponytail that fell over one shoulder.

“Of all the things I thought I’d find here, a witch was not one of them,” he murmured, almost to himself. My hand twitched on the knife when he finally met my eyes. “Are you Roman’s lover, witchling?”

“No,” I spat, glaring at him. “Who are you?”

The stranger ignored my question, pushing himself off the doorframe while his gaze lowered to my neck. I felt my heart jump before racing with alarm. I could swear his eyes burned a brighter shade of red as he continued to study my throat. Studying the bitemarks, I realized.

“Food then.” The stranger smiled and if it wasn’t for the manic hunger in his eyes, I would have thought he was trying to appear friendly. “You wouldn’t mind if I help myself, would you? I won’t kill you, or Roman might get pissy. He likes to make his own kill.”

He looked at me like he was waiting for permission, but before I could tell him he could go to hell, he lunged. Being around Roman for the past week had made me finely attuned to his movements, his speed, his vampire nature. So the attack felt almost predictable as he removed the space between us in the blink of an eye.

He was so focused on my neck that he didn’t even see me swinging the knife. The blade sank in the junction between his neck and shoulder right before his fangs grazed my skin. The vampire roared, taking a surprised step back, and I yanked my knife free, using his stupor to put some distance between us.

“Touch me and you die.” I bared my teeth.

He pressed a hand to the wound on his neck, then looked at me. Holding the knife up had caused the sleeve of my dress to slide down and reveal the cufflinks. I cursed myself as I watched his smile grow.

“Oh, he shackled you too,” he chuckled, letting his hand drop by his side. His fingers were smeared with his thick, dark blood, but the open wound on his neck was already closed. “And here I thought this could be interesting. I do prefer my prey fighting back.”

He took a slow step toward me, then moved with a speed that turned him into a blur. I slashed with the knife where I thought he’d appear, but he ducked underneath it. I tried to attack back, but he vanished, only to appear behind me. He blew a breath in my neck, as if this was some kind of game, then when I swung my knife, he was gone again. He did that a few more times, forcing me to turn around and slash until I was panting.

“This is getting boring already,” he groaned with exasperation.

I was just opening my mouth to tell him to fuck off when I was slammed against the wall with such force that I dropped my knife. Even with no air left in my lungs and with his iron grip around my throat, I tried to punch him. My fist clashed with his cheek, but instead of his face breaking, it was my hand that shattered.

I screamed, and he grinned, flashing me his fangs right before sinking them into my neck. The bite was vicious and forceful, making me realize that even as he bit me, Roman had been…gentle. Not trying to hurt me or kill me, just to drink. It was a strange thought to have when I could feel another vampire sucking out my blood with such vigor that I doubted he’d leave me alive, even if I hadn’t attacked him.

I tried one more time to push him off, but my attempt was so pathetic that he didn’t bother thwarting it. He just pulled his fangs out and sank them in again, tearing more skin and muscles as if to prolong the torture. There was no feeling of elation and desire, no warmth spreading through my body and making me feel like I was flying. There was only pain.

Until there was not.

I had no idea what happened, but the vampire was yanked away, tearing even more of my throat. I dropped to my knees, pressing a hand to the wound even though I knew that with my powers suppressed, my body couldn’t heal me fast enough to counter the blood loss and close the wounds.

So I stared at the hole in the wall where the vampire had flown through, wondering if Roman would be madder about the damage to his property, or the fact that someone killed me before he could. I almost smiled at the image of his annoyed face. Maybe he’d even kill that vampire. I hoped he did.

A figure kneeled in front of me, capturing my face in a wall of ice. I tried to focus my eyes and when I recognized Roman’s angry expression, I gasped.

“If you are going to kill me, do it now because I don’t have long.” Even to my own ears, my voice sounded hollow. He opened his mouth to speak, but then pursed his lips, glancing at my shoulder instead.

A low, angry snarl rose in his throat as he let go. I swayed, but he caught me before I hit the ground. He leaned me on the wall, capturing my wrists and yanking the cuffs off them with a few murmured words. Magic flooded every cell of my body, and I sucked in a deep, grateful breath. Roman grabbed my chin, lifting my face so I would look at him.

“Heal! Now!” I opened my mouth to tell him I wouldn’t when he added. “Please!”

The word came as such a surprise that I was reaching for my magic before I knew it. He watched the light envelop my body, seeping inside the wound and rushing to repair the damage. The urgency and desperation on his face made me question whether I was looking at the same cold, reserved bastard who had locked me in his house to use me as his walking meal.

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