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“Ah,” Philippe says before I can decide, pouncing on the split-second hesitation. “You haven’t. Such a shame. One could be a coincidence, could it not? But three victims with ties to the campaign? I believe that reeks of conspiracy.”

He’s right. If we can prove it, then leak it into the press through Audra, case fucking closed. Haverstad would be exposed for the corrupt trash he is and our work here would be done.

“What have you found out?”

Philippe’s eyes sparkle with merciless amusement. “You think I’d give that information up so easily? For so little incentive as that charming demand?”

Grinding my teeth, I wrack my brain for anything I could offer. I doubt it’s money he’s after, and I don’t wield any kind of influence or power that might appeal to him.

Again, I really, really wish Cas was here for this. At the very least, he’d probably have some idea how to sweeten the deal.

Before I can come up with an answer, Philippe speaks again. His voice is lower this time, more intimate as he leans toward me.

“But I am nothing if not generous, so I could tell you… for a taste.”

A… taste? As in… him biting me?

That seems to be the case as Philippe’s eyes drop to my throat, narrowing a little as he considers Cas’s bite there. He takes a half-step closer and raises a hand, brushing his thumb lightly over the mark. I swallow back a wave of nausea at how utterlywrongit feels.

“You’ve been bitten here more than once,” he muses. “So unlike my brother, to be precious about where he feeds, and from whom.”

He rests his other hand on my waist, and the cold of his touch seeps through the fabric to brush icily against my skin.

Panic and danger and the urge to flee clamor in my mind, a violent cacophony I can barely think around.

But I have to. I can’t let it drag me down. Not now.

“One taste,” I say, immediately regretting the words. “And then you tell me everything you know about Haverstad and the attacks and anything else that might be relevant to the case.”

Philippe chuckles, running his thumb over my mark again. “A hard bargain. You think your blood rich enough to make it fair?”

“That’s up to you.”

“Indeed,” he murmurs, then falls silent as he considers.

In the few moments of weighted quiet, panic rears its ugly head again.

Cas would hate this. He would fucking hate this. Hewillfucking hate this.

Not that it should matter what he thinks. We’re not anything to each other. We don’t owe each other anything.

It shouldn’t factor into my calculations at all what I would or wouldn’t do to solve this case based on whether or not it would piss him off.

He certainly hasn’t been entirely forthcoming in all of this, so this decision should be totally up to me.

Philippe leans in close, twining a hand into my hair to angle my head back and brushing the tip of his nose against the column of my throat.

I fight the urge to retch all over him, and as the scrape of his fangs follows the path his nose just made, my resolve breaks.

I’m not doing this.

Ican’tdo this.

No part of me can stomach the idea of him feeding from me, even if it means getting some miraculous bit of information that’s going to blow the case wide open.

I’m not strong enough. Not this time. At least not enough to give that little piece of myself and my dignity away.

I open my mouth to call this all off, raise my hands to his chest to push him away, but Philippe speaks before I can.