Page 52 of The Serpent’s Bride (Bloodlines #1)

“I admit…after tasting you, I could not imagine letting you go. My own personal stash of a drug more potent than any powder?” Raziel led her into what looked like a grand parlor.

The furniture was still there, though it had seen better days.

It was clear the staff had come through and tried to clean it, or at least make it usable—drop cloths had been thrown over sofas and chaise longues.

“I had brief thoughts about turning you into my own thralled fountain of blood, but my family wouldn’t have it. ”

That shouldn’t twist a knot of excitement in her stomach. But it did. “So…you keep saying you aren’t planning on killing me, but…seriously…I just want to know how panicked I should be right now.”

“Not until after dinner.” He chuckled. Raziel brought her over to a sofa in the center of the parlor, closest to the windows where they could see the ocean. He sat down before pulling her in front of him.

“What if you don’t stop? What if this is the sacrifice and you’re just tricking me?” She felt the same eager anticipation twist in her stomach. There was something so inherently sexual about his bite, it felt just the same as when he was threatening to tie her up and have her.

“Then, I suppose I will eat dinner all on my own.” His lopsided smile didn’t make her feel any better. It bloomed into a laugh as she glared at him. “I’ll stop. I give you my word.”

“Right…” If he was going to kill her, though, maybe this was the best possible way. She had no idea what it felt like to be bitten. But she’d heard stories of it from humans who had been turned into thralls, addicted to the bites of their masters.

What would it feel like to be bitten? Would it hurt? Maybe it was agony to her kind. That would make more sense than not.

His hands slid up her thighs, riding her black silk dress up her stockings. Pulling her forward, he urged her to straddle his legs. She did, kneeling on the sofa before sitting on his lap. He was still taller than her like this.

“You’re nervous again.” His fingers trailed through her hair, combing the strands, the points of them scraping against her scalp.

Gods, that felt good. It lured her eyes half shut. “Hard not to be, when you’re likely planning to kill me at any point.”

Let him get in closer…let him just get a little closer…

“I gave you my word. In this moment, you are safe with me…” Leaning in, he kissed her throat.

It was the same spot where he had bitten her before.

The mark had almost entirely healed. Too fast. He hadn’t brought it up.

“I have more plans for us this evening to simply let it end here, I promise you.”

That twisted a knot in her stomach that was part fear and part anticipation. He just needs to be a little more relaxed…

Resting her hands on his chest, she took a deep breath and tried to relax. He slowly stroked a hand up and down her back, shushing her quietly as he kissed her throat. With his hand in her hair, he gently tilted her head away from him, giving him more room.

That’s it. Kill him now! Kill him n ? —

He began to purr.

She’d heard it from him before. But she’d been concussed the last time. And it hadn’t felt real , blending into the scenery like everything else. Fuzzy and dreamlike.

But now, there was no question about it.

The sound rumbled in him. Deep and primal, resonating through her.

It robbed her of breath. But like some kind of magic, all tension fled from her limbs at the sound of it.

His hypnotism didn’t work on her—but that did.

It was like a lure, calling her closer. Shining in the deep, whispering It’s safe.

It’s okay. Come here. Come to me. And she did, powerless to resist. Unwilling to even try.

Resting against him, she surrendered to his strength, no longer fighting against his grasp. All thoughts of resistance left her. All thoughts of hurting him fled. All she wanted was him.

He rolled his tongue over her throat, sensuous and slow, taking his time. How long he lingered like that, both of them basking in the moment, she had no idea. Her thoughts were muddled.

Then it happened.

A brief sting.

And for the length of a single heartbeat, nothing but the purr.

Then he pulled.

And a moan escaped her lips.

He drank from her and she felt it. Gods below, she could feel it happening. She could feel her heartbeat begin to thud in time with his rumbling.

It had no right to feel like such total and utter bliss.

Another pull, and she thought she might lose her mind. No wonder she fainted the first time. If he was going to kill her—let it be like this. Please, let her die like this. Instinctually, she ground her hips against his, needing to feel more of him.

But his purr was beginning to change into a growl. His bite was beginning to deepen—become harsh. His arm at her back cinched tighter. But there was nothing she could do to stop him; she was caught in his web.

This was how she died. Right here. In his arms. Drained dry.

But the pull. With each draw from her, a wave of ecstasy rolled through her, sending her deeper and deeper into the warmth of it all.

Just when she thought it was over, he ripped his head away from her. She heard his jaws snap shut, heard him mutter a curse to himself under his breath. He shuddered beneath her, his hands still clutching her tight.

Gasping, she placed a hand to her head. “Shit?—”

“You are fine. It feels like I took more than I did.” Raziel leaned his head back on the sofa, his hands sliding to her hips.

He pressed his own up into her. It was clear that she wasn’t the only one who found the bite sexual.

“Oh, my little killer…you are a dangerous addiction. Oh, I wish we had time to go another round.”

“We don’t?”

“Mmh. Dinner will be spoiled if we wait much longer, I fear.” He laughed in a strange way. Did her blood make him high? He sounded a little loopy. Giddy, almost. The idea that she was accidentally drugging him was funny enough that she had to keep from laughing.

She rubbed her throat again. It was sore but didn’t sting. And her lightheadedness had cleared fairly quickly. “That was…wow.”

“How do you think Lana has so many pet humans?” Sitting up, he nudged her hand from her throat and kissed the wound before rolling his tongue along the bite marks. She shivered at how sensitive it was.

He patted her ass. “Can you stand?” He was clearly still a little loopy. So was she.

Standing was a wobbly affair, and she had to lean on the sofa for a moment to do it, but she managed. He was right—at first, it felt like he’d taken a lot more than he had. But now that she could take a second to breathe, her head was starting to clear.

“Dinner is on the back patio.”

Raziel led her through a large set of doors that must once have been beautiful to an enormous stone patio overlooking the ocean.

Nadi froze.

A table was set for two in front of her. White linen was laid out, with plates under silver cloches.

But there were three chairs.

Only two of them were empty.

In the third position was a woman. Wrists tied to the wooden arms of her chair. Ankles tied to the legs. More bindings around her waist. A gag muffling her whimpering cries.

Nadi was staring into the terrified eyes of Monica Valan.

The real Monica Valan.

A click from behind her. The sound of a pistol’s safety.

Nadi felt the weapon being pressed to the back of her head.

Raziel’s voice was as cold as ice. “Do sit down. I think it’s time that we become properly acquainted. Don’t you?”