Page 50 of Disillusioned (A Lay of Ruinous Reign #2)

Lilac’s pulse was erratic, anger spiking with the jealousy that shouldn’t have been at the forefront of her mind. This didn’t sound like Garin was being funny, or even chivalrous.

Shrugging uncomfortably, Elona adjusted the shawl hanging off her bare shoulders. “We even brought him a drink.”

Her heart sank. This was wrong. Garin was vulnerable, and maybe he did need help .

How dare you , should’ve been her next words. He’s not himself . Maybe a punch to the face would have sufficed. Several options flashed through her mind before she opened her mouth. “What was he like?” was all that came out.

She couldn’t help herself.

Nellie sniffled while Elona cleared her throat bitterly. She was probably not used to being turned down. They were both beautiful. “Polite, but at the same time ill-mannered. Maybe paranoid. Kept watching the door, as if expecting someone, or something else. He seemed distracted.”

Lilac couldn’t quite concentrate on their conversation or anything in the hall for that matter, but only because she was suddenly all too present in her body.

Her stomach churned, and as her hand went to her neck, she realized she’d been sweating; all of the powder, rogue, and perfume she’d put on just to torture Garin, gone.

Her gaze flickered down to the glass Elona was holding.

Had the women before her felt the effects of the mead, too?

Did they also feel this pulsing at their core, the need to feel something?

Anything ? They seemed a bit fidgety, but perhaps that came with the nerves of trying to seduce a vampire like Garin.

If they’d had any, how did they look so calm when Lilac had been fed only a few drops and felt like she might rip her clothes off if she didn’t come soon?

She looked down at the cloth-covered chalice in her hands, filled with what might be four or five large gulps of a stranger’s blood for him, hoping it would be enough.

Nellie was eyeing her chalice as well. “What did you bring him?”

“Stop entertaining her, Nellie,” Elona snapped. Her grip tightened on her half empty glass.

Before Lilac could answer, the door creaked open to reveal a well lit room. She could just make out the corner of a four poster bed, the glow of firelight.

No sight nor sound of Garin. Or the woman.

They hunched together behind Lilac, craning their necks to peek past. “Move,” Elona sneered, pushing off the wall and gripping Lilac’s shoulder, shoving her away. “Where are they?”

Lilac’s ears burned. “Get your?— ”

“ Get your hands off of her. ” Garin’s voice floated from inside the room, just as there was a tug at Lilac’s skirts.

“P-please,” rasped a female voice, wet and weak.

Nellie made a fearful noise and Elona did as she was told, falling back against the wall once more.

No.

Lilac forced herself to look down. The third woman the pair had escorted up to Garin’s room was at her feet, pulling herself into the doorway, fully clothed except for the high lace neckline of her pretty gown, which now laid across her chest in red ribbons, looking like it had been slashed open with a knife. Or teeth.

The pair’s startled cries were drowned out by the rush of blood in Lilac’s ears.

Without thinking, she bent to pick the girl up—but Garin’s black boots appeared before her as he slowly positioned himself behind his prey, whose gaze bore into Lilac’s, pleading and filled with horror.

Blood flecked her head, some of it matted into her hairline as if it had been smeared across her head in an attempt to put up a fight.

Lilac couldn’t bring herself to look up at him, even under the guise of her mask. Instead, she placed the saucer down beside her and reached out to support the shuddering girl over her forearms, but Garin’s voice slid over her.

“Leave her,” he said boredly, as if helping his victim were an unnecessary favor.

Strangely, Lilac felt herself strain a little stronger now, able to resist his demand. “She needs help.”

When she slipped her hands under the girl’s armpits and knelt to get a better grip on her before hoisting her up, Lilac jolted in shock; in the poorly lit hall, she hadn’t seen the pool of blood beneath her—also spreading warmly now onto her own front. She shrieked, unable to help it.

He hadn’t drained her blood. This girl was still alive, bleeding to death before her eyes.

Lilac stumbled back. Blood spurted from the puncture wounds from Garin’s teeth on the girl’s throat as she coughed, attempting to speak.

Lilac moved, intending to grab the cloth from the saucer she’d placed at her side and press it to her neck, but in her agony, the woman writhed free, looking panickedly at Lilac, then up at her friends—her friends , who, in their desperate state, had sacrificed her to Garin.

Now, she knew, it was in hopes he might then have had enough restraint to sleep with them without killing them.

Elona and Nellie were backed against the wall, their expressions wrenched in horror.

Lilac’s will finally broke, and she had no other choice but to look up at him. Garin gazed down upon her coldly, bracing himself against the darkened doorway. His mouth, and even part of his nose, were smeared thickly in a deep red he hadn’t bothered wiping off.

Did he know? Surely he recognized her? Did he look upon her with such disdain now because he couldn’t smell her beneath his victim’s blood and her layers of new perfume?

Was it an act, like it had been several times before?

Her face burned as she imagined his distant, exasperated demeanor in The Fenfoss Inn, as he asked— commanded —her to leave out of concern.

This was nothing like that. It was distant and foreboding.

She gritted her teeth and moved to hoist the woman up again, whom he roughly snatched by the arm. The girl had stopped fighting.

“Be gentle ,” she snarled softly as Garin lifted the girl from her. Lilac wanted to try to stop the bleeding with her cloth now that the woman had stopped moving, but with the way her eyes were glassy, rolling, and half-lidded, she could tell she was past any help she could offer.

Garin held her limp form out to the two others, who shrank away. His nostrils flared, his voice low and on the verge of impatience. “Take her.”

“Y-you—” Nellie stammered, leaning away as Elona reluctantly accepted her from Garin, lip curled in disgust and stumbling under her weight.

“I what? Killed her?” Garin barked a laugh as they flinched. “It appears her heart is on the verge of stopping in your arms, is it not?”

“There is a warlock here,” Lilac interjected, tearing her eyes away from him with effort. “Somewhere downstairs, in the crowd. Gold hair, young, deep blue robes. Go find him; he’ll help her.”

Surprisingly, Elona sucked her teeth as if she’d forgotten Lilac entirely. “Why? So that you can have him all to yourself?”

Jaw slacked, she slowly backed away. What kind of terrible magic was in that Dragondew Mead—in the sea holly or in the bees? No naturally occurring aphrodisiac would make someone offer a friend, or even a stranger, to a vampire just for a chance at bedding him.

She’d done her job in offering. Lilac shook her head and tried to wipe the woman’s blood off her hands, but it was fruitless with all of it smeared on her front and down her arms. When she looked up, Garin was studying her, shadows from the flames framing his sharp profile.

He ran his tongue across his lower lip, sweeping a lone curl off his forehead and smearing it in blood; in the heat and sweat, her heavy heartbeat pulsed in time with her core—for she’d had the mead, too.

Suddenly, she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t kill to fuck him, either.

“You didn’t even eat her,” Elona muttered as they dragged their friend toward the stairs.

He said nothing, folding his arms and watching them leave. When he turned back to Lilac, his glare faltered. He looked tired. “That’s because she wasn’t to my taste.”

Unable to help herself, embarrassed by the enthusiasm her racing heart made it impossible to conceal, Lilac crossed the dim hall and bent to recover the saucer and covered chalice atop it. When she stood, Garin was already gone and the door was creaking shut.