Page 8 of Bleeding Love

“Was that not enough?” the vampire asked, and I glared at him. That only seemed to amuse him more. “Then eat, witchling. I won’t have you dying from hunger.”

“I told you, I’m not a witchling,” I muttered, picking up my fork and pulling the closest plate. It was an effort not to stuff it all in my mouth. The food was delicious, more delicious than anything I had eaten in the past year, but I was determined not to show him that.

“If you are not a witchling, then what are you?” he asked, pushing the glass with blood away so he could lean his hand on the table. His stare only seemed to grow more intense as seconds passed until it became almost impossible for me to swallow.

“A witch, obviously,” I snapped, forcing down another bite.

“How old are you?” His voice effortlessly filled the room, and despite it being quiet and soft, it still sounded like a command. I almost yielded to it, but then I remembered he had no power over me. So I opted not to answer, making sure my mouth was always full so I could use that as an excuse. “What’s the name of your coven?” I didn’t answer. “Let me guess, the Coven of the Black Sisters? It has been a while since I’ve seen a necromancer so far from their dwellings. Your people do not like to mix with others.”

“Or rather, the others don’t like to mix with them,” I murmured, eyeing the apple pie. There was still so much food in front of me that I couldn’t possibly eat it all, even if I was starving. I was going to eat that pie, though.

“Them,” Roman repeated, his head was cocked to the side, making him look even more like the predator he was. “Not us. So you are not one of them.” He waited as if expecting me to answer, but I just dragged the pie in front of me and sunk the fork in. The teeth went easily, and as I brought the bite up, the filling almost spilled off. I put it in my mouth in a hurry, but some of it slipped out. When I licked it off, I noticed Roman watching the movement with utter concentration. I could swear I saw red flash in his eyes for a split second.

I reached for my magic, ready to protect myself, but he just leaned back in his chair and raised the goblet. He tipped it enough to drink, but the liquid barely touched his lips before he pulled it back with a grimace. Setting it down, he locked his gaze on my neck.

I put the fork down so I could have my hands free. I had used most of the holy water I got on those stakes and that hadn’t even slowed him down. I doubted he’d let me anywhere near him with a weapon, let alone stay still long enough for me to decapitate him. Even if I conjured fire with my magic, I couldn’t incinerate him fast enough if he kept moving. I’d be more likely to burn the house down with everyone in it, myself included. Getting burned was one of my least favorite ways to die.

I needed time to think of a plan.

“I’m tired.” I rose to my feet before he could decide if he wanted to attack me or not. “Can I leave?”

Roman stared at me with surprise before smirking in a way that made me want to punch him. I held his gaze without blinking.

“So you can be polite,” he said with a voice dripping with mockery. “That pleases me. You can go.”

I opened my mouth to tell him I didn’t care if he was pleased, but decided against it. He was letting me go without trying to bite me, so that was good enough. I wasn’t going to risk an attack just for the satisfaction of having the last word. Not tonight.

I could feel his eyes on my exposed neck until the moment I stepped out of the room. The maid who had helped me clean up earlier stepped from where she had been standing by the wall.

“We have prepared a room. I’ll take you there, madame,” she said, lowering her eyes to the floor. I followed her up the staircase, glancing back only once to make sure Roman wasn’t stalking after us. He hadn’t left the dining room from what I could tell, but I had a feeling he was listening. Asking the girl questions would only put her in danger if he was serious about killing his servant for helping me, albeit unwillingly. Besides, I didn’t want to give him any hints about what my plans were, and I was positive there wasn’t a place in this house where he couldn’t hear me.

The maid opened one of the doors on the second floor, moving aside for me to enter. The chamber wasn’t large, but it was nicely furnished and cozy, and there were substantial windows on one of the walls with the curtains billowing from the night air. The glass was broken—I had broken them all with my attack on the ward—but the weather was still warm enough, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Maybe even…

I waited until I could no longer hear the footsteps of the maid, then I strode to the windows. Taking a deep breath, I raised my hand and tried to push it through the open air. The barrier resisted the pressure, so I poured more of my magic into my fingers, searching for a weakness, for an imperfection, for an out.

The spell pushed me back, and I staggered a few steps. I opened my mouth to curse, but then I gritted my teeth. Looking over my shoulder at the closed door, I half expected it to fly open and Roman to barge in, laughing at me for failing yet again to leave.

I waited for a long time but nobody came. The house was so quiet that all I could hear was my own heart beating in my ears and my own thoughts swirling in my head.

Striding to the bed, I dropped on my back and locked my eyes on the ceiling.

I would prod the spell more during the day when Roman couldn’t catch me trying to break through it. I couldn’t rely on the vampire’s amusement with me to last, especially with the way he was looking at me tonight.

Still, this development wasn’t entirely bad. If he kept his fangs to himself, this situation could actually work in my favor. With the hunters getting so close, even when I thought I had covered my tracks, this might be just what I needed to throw them off my scent. For better or for worse, Roman was a powerful vampire, and this was his territory. He’d protect it against anyone, even his own kind, if for nothing else but pride.

Of course, I couldn’t show him I was glad to be here—even less so that I depended on his indirect protection. Not until I figured out how to break the spell and get rid of him. Knowing his kind, he had no intention of letting me go when he brought me here. If I were to die again, I wasn’t going to let it happen at the fangs of a vampire.

He hadn’t retaliated when I tried to kill him, which meant he wasn’t worried that I’d succeed. He had actually looked amused! I could use his pride to unearth more of his weaknesses, even if it meant humiliating myself a few times. And if I managed to kill him, this might end up breaking the spell. That kind of ward usually had a tether, which was probably why, even with all the power I hurled at it, I couldn’t penetrate it. Maybe Roman was the tether and his destruction would break the spell. That would solve two problems at once.

A cat let out a loud meow just outside my window. For a moment I thought I recognized the voice, but then another meow followed, full of fear and panic—two emotions my familiar didn’t know—and I sighed with disappointment.

Nym would have found out I fled and followed my trail, but even if he did realize I hadn’t died in that forest fire, he might not have been able to find me inside this spell.

My eyes grew heavy. The longer I lay still, the more the exhaustion and pain spread through my body. My magic had already healed the worst of my wounds, but it was taking a toll on me and I needed to rest.

Raising my hands toward the ceiling, I started weaving the protection ward. When I was done, I pushed it around the room, letting it sink into the walls until the low hum of my magic made me sigh with relief. My mind drifted, so I didn’t bother with my clothes, just turned to the side, searching for a more comfortable position.

I wasn’t dead, and I wasn’t on the run, so by all accounts, I was actually doing better than before. And now, with this ward in place, nobody with ill intentions could enter the room. Not even a powerful vampire that thought he had won.

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