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Story: A Bargain So Bloody
She continued: “Our vampire clientele only bitewithpermissionwherepermitted. Each donor sets their own boundaries, within reason. The vampires are very careful. Nothing for the king to worry about, I assure you.”
“How many humans do this work for you?” I asked.
“I cannot say arithmetic is my specialty.” Latia furrowed her brow. “I have roughly fifty voids in employ, but as I said, we’re rather exclusive. There are easily another forty dens, not counting private services, of course.”
Too many. My stomach twisted. “And how many die every year from greedy vampires taking too much?”
Latia stiffened in her chair. “Any unexpected deaths are strictly dealt with.”
“They are?”
She nodded. “Of course. The vampire is immediately banned from the premises, and any unpaid earnings go to the family. I pride myself on taking close care of my staff.”
So one den closed the door, but thirty-nine were still open. Anger coursed through me. At Latia, at the hypothetical vampires, at Raphael for letting this happen. I got up from the seat with a sudden urge for a scalding bath. “I’ll see myself out.”
I didn’t want to spend another second in that woman’s company, or in that godscursed building. But before I could go, I needed to check on the girl I’d seen. Latia obviously didn’t give a damn, but my conscience wouldn’t let me go until I saw she was alright, no matter how badly my self-preserving side screeched at me to leave. I doubled back the way we came, trying to unwind the path we’d taken. Years surrounded by identical walls at Greymere had honed my sense of direction. I brushed the cloth screen aside, peering into the room. All the rooms looked the same, but I was pretty sure this one was correct.
“Hello?” I called from the edge of the room.
No answer. The bed was rumpled like I remembered. It was impossible to tell from the doorframe if anyone was in the bed. I went inside and crossed the room to the bed. What I’d thought was possibly the girl had been a pillow covered in discarded blankets. Relief. I should have felt relief. If she was gone, it meant she was well enough to stand, or someone had taken her. She wasn’t lying dead as I’d feared.
Just get out, Samara. That self-preserving voice grew louder and louder.Protect yourself.
I’d done my best. I’d learned about the blood dens, and I reviled them. As unsavory as it was, I’d be naïve to consider anything a revelation. If I hadn’t been so focused on learning about the grimoire and being scared of my own shadow, I’d have realized this without Titus rubbing my nose in it. My gaze snagged on layers of dried blood on the fitted sheets, dark splotches of red and brown underneath. I tugged the coverlet over and turned towards the door.
And there, blocking the doorway, was a vampire with hungry eyes and pointed fangs.
“Well, don’t you smell delicious?”
Chapter Forty-Two
“I’m the king’s Chosen,”I blurted. It was the first thing that came to mind.
“Oh, is that the fantasy you offer?” The vampire stepped closer. He wasn’t as big as Raphael or Demos, but he towered over me. My legs began to shake.
“No, I’m the king’s,” I repeated. On reflex, I took a step back and knocked into the bed.
“Then call me the king.” His words came out a bit slow, his footfall at an awkward angle that lacked the usual vampire grace. He reminded me more of Nelson than Raphael. “Pretty thing. Haven’t seen you at Latia’s before.”
“I’m telling you, don’t come near me.” My voice was growing louder, more desperate. The curtain no doubtmuffled some sound, and the den was far from quiet, but why wasn’t someone coming?
“Blood love the gimmicks she comes up with,” the vampire swore appreciatively and continued his stumble-stroll towards me.
No.I’m not defenseless. Anger coursed through me. I had beaten the vampire in the library—narrowly. This one was at least partly incapacitated. I drew my dagger underneath the cover of my cloak and drew my feet apart into the fighting stance Demos had taught me. This vampire didn’t yet realize—didn’t believe—I was a threat.
You’ll be underestimated in just about any fight. We’ll make sure to use it to your advantage,Demos had told me on that first day.
Once I attacked him, he’d realize I wasn’t some meek little donor. Which meant I only had one shot.
He was just two feet away when I closed the gap, thrusting the dagger as far as I could into his chest. Delight lit his features for a flicker of a second, thinking I was embracing him, but at the last fraction of a second he twisted, realizing what I was doing. Rage burned in those red eyes.
“You bitch!” he roared.
I had missed.
I was dead.
But as quickly as the realization came, the sight in front of me transformed.
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