Page 130 of Loreblood

A small nod.

“Think it has something to do with my blood he drank to heal?”

“I think it has everything to do with your blood, little temptress.”

I winced. “Sorry.”

“You do not control what runs through your veins. It is Garroway’s fault for succumbing to the temptation.”

“He would have died without it, Skartovius.”

“So you say. Vampires, even half-bloods, are notoriously difficult to kill.”

I sighed. “The explosion from Vallan’s firebomb did a lot of damage. Put some holes in him. He looked like shit.”

“Aye. I should have been there.”

My head tilted on the cot, looking at him sideways.Is that regret I’m hearing?These vampires never ceased to astound me. I learned more about them by the day and, if nothing else, that was useful for my purposes of one day overthrowing the whole lot of them and liberating Nuhav.

Forty-seven years Garro’s been his slave, his thrall.I pondered that, setting my book on my belly. The tome was an interesting treatise on how the alignment of the stars may impact the power of a vampire’s blood. When I had tried to discuss its contents with Skar, he scoffed, saying he had just pulled the first thing he saw from his shelves to shut me up, and calling the theory nonsense.

Garroway doesn’t look more than twenty-five summers aged. In truth, he’s at least twice that, probably more.It baffled me, the power these creatures had at their disposal—the ability to never age, to heal supernaturally fast, and the inordinate strength and speed they possessed.

Even with the negative aspects—the whole daylight turning them into torches thing, silver igniting their blood, their undead qualities and weak, blackened hearts, and the fact they lose all semblance of humanity once turned—it’s amazing to imagine the power I’d have at my fingertips.

I shook my head and blinked up at the ceiling. It was a foolish notion—a childish daydream—to considerwantingto becomea vampiress. In the past, the bloodsuckers had terrified me absolutely. They still did, but now there was more nuance to it.

It was difficult denying the draw I felt around these monsters. They were both stoic and sensual. Grotesque and strangely erotic, one minute opening up a man’s chest to feed on his organs and veins, and the next calling me by charming pet names.

Little temptress, little honey badger, silverblood. All three of them have unique sobriquets for me that seem to speak to how they see me.

To Skartovius, I was a trophy he resisted touching. To Garroway, I was tenacious like the animal he named me after, and perhaps a bit . . . unkempt and wild? And to Vallan, well, I could only imagine “silverblood” as an insult, since silver was the biggest weakness of all for vampires.

Still, the insult rolled off the tongue. I found myself enjoying it.

If someone had told me I would one day find more pleasure in the company of three bloodsuckers than my own kind, I would have laughed and pushed them off the Olhavian Peaks. Now, I hardly knew myself. Something inside me was changing the longer I stayed with these men. I was still lucky enough to retain my sanity and humanity, my empathy, but I felt more scheming and daring with them.

They were the ultimate bodyguards, after all, making sure no harm came to me.No one else in my life has ever been that for me. Even if I don’twantit, I can’t deny the power I feel when I’m walking in the presence of Skar next to me on the streets of Olhav. No one touches a hair on my body.

“I would like to go to the Chained Sisters,” I said, apropos of nothing. Long minutes had passed in silence.

He lifted his head from his letter. “You’ve been there twice already this week. I’m sure Iron Sister Keffa would not enjoy you giving their location away.”

I frowned, sitting up and kicking my feet off the edge of the cot. “Do you think Mistress Mortis will send more assassins after me?”

“For the last time, they’re not assassins. They’re bounty hunters trying to bring you to her.”

“You wouldn’t know,” I jabbed. “You weren’t there.”

He stood from the table and rubbed his forehead. “Aye, as you never fail to remind me.”

When I became bratty like this, Skartovius tended to pace and look annoyed. It was a sign I was grating on him. I had to keep pushing as far as I could to gauge my boundaries with the bloodsucker.

Skar needed to know how ridiculous it was trying to keep a grown woman under his thumb, when the truth wasIheld the power here. I was the one with the Loreblood which, evidently, everyone needed.

So far, things had been going swimmingly. Little temptress or not, he couldn’t deny me when I got a harebrained idea in my mind

“So? The Sisters?” I tilted my head and pouted. “I want to see Jinneth. Let the Iron Sister tell me herself if I’m unwelcome. Or you could let me go by myself . . .”