Page 11

I jerked back.

“None of your business.” Could he really smell Tom from that brief contact?

The look Raphael gave me was chiding. “It is, since you’re under my protection and the biggest threat to you at present is men of your own species.”

No, the biggest threat to me was the bossy vampire. Who was he to chide me? He’d run off, and I’d navigated the village, getting us supplies on my own and avoiding any suspicions from the townspeople on my own.

I shoved past him to get to the counter. I had a little of the stolen gold left, and I’d be damned if I’d let an ornery vampire deny me a warm meal while he made a scene .

“I just met a nice boy,” I grumbled, snagging a seat at a recently emptied table.

Raphael slid into the stool across from me, utterly casual.

His back was to the room, his red eyes fixed on me.

I glanced around to see if anyone realized a vampire was in their midst, but no one reacted.

The thought of how easily he moved around among humans sent chills down my spine.

And he could enthrall people with a single look?

I’d thought the scariest thing about vampires was their fangs. The violent animal their human-shaped bodies contained. But no. Their true gifts were apparently much worse.

“A nice boy,” Raphael murmured. His tone was mocking, in that soft, sensual way that made it clear he was playing a game I didn’t know the rules to. “Is that what you like?”

Where was the bartender? “It doesn’t seem like any of your business.”

My cheeks warmed, and I could feel Raphael’s gaze fix on them.

The blood rushing under them. Then his attention drifted lower, taking in my clothing.

I regretted the indulgence. The clothes I’d been wearing had been threadbare and shapeless.

Now, the blouse clung to my frame, cut a bit low.

It might’ve been immodest except for the fact my body was nearly stick straight.

He didn’t leer. I couldn’t accuse him of that. But he saw me in a way that left me feeling utterly exposed .

“Is that what you want, Samara?” he goaded. “A simple village boy who will whisper sweet nothings in your ear?”

I wanted to snap back something clever. In truth, anything I said would’ve come out petulant and stammered. I was saved when the barmaid finally spotted us and strolled over, a sway in her hips I could never manage.

She sashayed over to the table, a pleasant smile to me before she turned to face Raphael.

Her eyes widened in shock, mouth quivering for a second before she opened it, about to yell. How had Raphael been so stupid to—

“You notice nothing unusual about me. I am just another man with plain blue eyes.”

His tone was even, unhurried. From the moment he began to speak, the shaking stopped, and she stared deep into his eyes. Then, as if in a trance, she nodded.

Thrall .

My mouth went dry. So that was what it looked like. I fingered the card at my side. Would I use it on myself? Or to protect the barmaid?

“Well, what can I get you, sir?” Her words were unafraid. She really didn’t realize she was talking to a vampire.

Actually… her gaze was no longer fixed on his eyes. Instead, it roamed around the angles of Raphael’s face, his sharp jaw, full lips, and then dipped lower.

“Nothing for me.”

“You sure?” Her voice dropped slightly. “I can’t get you anything you might like?”

“How kind,” he drawled. “But no. My companion, however, is hungry.”

Actually, seeing him hypnotize the barmaid had knocked down my ever-present appetite. But it would be childish not to take advantage and force at least something down my throat. “A cup of soup, please.”

She nodded and turned to go, but Raphael stopped her. “And of course, a full dinner. Roast chicken or whatever is cooking in the kitchen, vegetables, potatoes, and something sweet.”

The nod Raphael got had a much brighter smile than she’d given me. That smile shouldn’t have irritated me. It was just… she was smiling at a vampire. And she had no idea.

“I’m not that hungry,” I snapped when she finally left.

“Your growling stomach says otherwise,” came the easy reply. “It’s… irritating to listen to. Consider quieting your hunger a personal favor to me.”

“Watching you screw with the barmaid’s mind ruined my appetite.”

He arched a brow. “Would you have preferred I snapped her neck before she could scream? I could still do that, if you’re so distressed. She’d be missed, eventually, but we could leave before anyone realizes.”

My horrified expression was answer enough.

“That’s what I thought. It’s harmless. In this case, anyway.”

“It’s unnatural,” I hissed .

He chuckled. “As if witches have any right to complain about what’s natural.”

I wasn’t a witch, but I felt like I should defend my countrymen all the same. “Witch magic is a gift from the gods.”

“Who’s to say mine isn’t as well?”

The barmaid came back, a spring in her step as she set several platters down on the table: a thick, creamy soup that smelled of herbs I hadn’t seen since I was a child; a hefty chicken leg, surrounded by roasted potatoes and colorful vegetables; and a hefty slice of pie.

My eyes fixed on it. The sugar of the crust sparkled in the dark light.

To my mortification, my stomach did growl at the sight.

Raphael smirked. He didn’t need to say anything to make his point.

“Anything else I can get you?” Once again, her attention was turned to Raphael, because of course it was.

“Nothing. We’re to be left alone for the rest of the evening, unless I call you over.” His red eyes lifted once more, and that same blank expression came over her face as she nodded. “My companion wants all my attention on her after all.”

I ignored the last teasing comment. My gaze was directed at my soup while the barmaid walked away. I fingered the small deck of cards in my pockets. “Have you done that to me?”

“I’ve certainly tried.” There was an unusual tinge of annoyance in Raphael’s tone. “Don’t look so shocked I’m admitting it. Whatever else I may be, I’m not a liar.”

“What do you mean tried ?”

“I mean,” he drawled, “it seems my thrall doesn’t work on you.”

I looked up at him.

“But we were in Grey—” I bit my tongue to stop speaking. Just what I needed, to give him the idea. Puzzles were a problem for me. I always wanted to solve them, even if I was better off keeping my mouth shut.

His red eyes glowed as he looked at me. “Tell me about the nice boy you met, Samara.”

He was being childish. Perhaps it was better than something more nefarious to prove his point, but I ground my teeth all the same.

Still, no vampire thrall compelled me to tell Raphael a word about Thomas, which was good, because I wasn’t sure what I would have been compelled to share.

What he looked like? Or the fact he’d invited me off to the woods?

“See?” He shrugged. “Doesn’t work.”

“Is that common?” I asked. Maybe he was weak for a vampire. Because I certainly wasn’t strong for a human—I hadn’t even used the card yet. I didn’t want to waste the temporary effects, not while we were still days from Apante.

His expression shuttered. “Your soup is getting cold.”

So he wouldn’t lie—if I was to take the vampire at his word—but he was in no rush to answer my questions.

Still, in a weird way, he’d answered the most pressing question—how the thrall worked and if he could use it on me. Why tip his hand? Because I was easier to travel with if I wasn’t scared of his mind manipulation? But then, why not answer my other questions?

His pointed look at the soup had me lifting the spoon to my lips, as compelled as any thrall.

My questions fell away as creamy soup met my lips.

By the third hell, it was so rich it was almost overpowering.

Delicate layers of herbs rolled over my tongue in a symphony of flavor.

Rosemary, thyme, garlic. I hadn’t tasted any of them in years.

Rat soup was seasoned with sweat and spit.

I shut my eyes, swallowing the soup down with a slight groan.

When I opened them, Raphael’s gaze was fixed on me. There was something new to his expression, something I had seen only a hint of once or twice, like when I ate the rabbit. I swallowed again, nothing but my own worries.

He parted his lips like he was considering saying something, but held back.

I certainly wasn’t going to ask. The single morsel of food had awakened my hunger, and I had to fight the urge to tip the bowl to my lips and drink it down before someone could take it away.

My mother’s many hours of training prevailed. I took another small sip to my lips. I was eating faster than she would’ve approved of, but, well, she wouldn’t have approved of me breaking bread with a vampire. And she was dead, so she couldn’t have an opinion.

From the soup, I moved to the roast dinner. I’d insisted I’d lost my appetite, but I made quick work of the plate, polishing off even the vegetables I’d disdained as a child.

My stomach cramped from the sudden influx of food. But still I eyed the dessert.

It would be stupid to eat it. Dessert would hardly sustain me on the rest of our trip. I might well lose all the food if I ate it.

But it was hard to look away. The crust was golden, beckoning me. I put my fork down with a slight clang, pushing the plate away.

We sat for a while as the food settled in me. We should leave , I realized distantly. We had the essentials we’d come for.

Raphael rolled his eyes at me. “Oh, just eat it.”

I flushed at the mocking gesture. “It’s fine. I don’t need it.”

“No one needs pie. But you’ve been making eyes at it since the barmaid brought it over. You want it.”

I did. I hated that Raphael saw it so easily.

“No. I don’t.” I pushed my palms onto the table and stood, leaving payment on the table.

Raphael rose, and mercifully didn’t say another comment about the slice of pie.

Even though I was full, the gluttonous part of me wanted to turn back and eat it.

Dessert wasn’t a word that was even whispered in Greymere, the taste of sugar and sweets from childhood something found only in the cruelest dreams. How would reality compare? Was it as glorious as I remembered?

Raphael would know. And if there was anything worse than going without, it was others knowing that you wanted more.

“We’re just a few days’s walk from the city,” I told him as we left the tavern. With the cards I’d secured, our trip would be a bit easier.

“Oh, we won’t be walking.”

I frowned. “We won’t?”

“No. We’re going to steal some horses.”