Page 12 of The Vampire Debt

Chapter Six

Clara

A hand wrapsaround my upper arm, pulling me away from Kitty and dragging me toward the door.

“I wasn’t finished,” I protest, fighting Father’s hold.

“You do not need to bring anything at all,” the vampire says. “Everything you might need will be provided for you.”

I cut my eyes to him, trying to infuse my look with all the hate I can muster.

Of course I don’tneedto bring anything. I probably won’t make it far enough to even need the clothes I managed to gather.

“Wait!” Kitty calls out from behind us all. There’s an urgency to her voice I never knew possible.

Mr. Devereaux looks expectantly at her, and she hesitates for a second then hurries to Father’s far side, trying to put as much distance between her and the vampire as possible.

It’s only once she’s around Father that I see what was so urgent. My heart plummets. She clutches at my book. And without fuss or another word, she hands it to me before scurrying off to the far corner of the room.

Father shoves me out the door, finally releasing me from his bruising grasp. As soon as the vampire is over the threshold, the door slams shut.

I gape at the weather worn wood, jaw slack.

He had given me away to my doom so easily. I knew he never loved me, but this stings in a way I never thought possible.

“Come, Miss Valmont,” the vampire practically purrs my name, motioning to the opulent carriage that awaits us down the long driveway.

Holding back the sting of tears, I turn away from the only home I’d ever known and into the hands of my death.

My legs feel weak with every step. He follows a step behind, one hand out as though he will place it on my lower back to urge me on if I stop.

We reach the carriage in what feels like seconds. The driver stays seated, not once looking back. Mr. Devereaux opens the door for me and once more motions me forward.

I set my bag on the floor inside and climb up on the step. With one foot still on the ground, I pause, gripping the metal handle so hard my skin stings from rubbing the smooth surface. My heart pounds hard against my sternum.

I don’t want to get in.I will be dead before we reach the edge of town.

“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” I mutter. It’s pathetic and I stand to gain absolutely nothing from it. I suppose I say it for my own sake.

“Get in,” he says, unsympathetic to my plight.

I spin around so fast I nearly lose my balance. “Where’s the chaperone?”

He blinks once and arches a single, dark brow. “What chaperone?”

“The one that should be accompanying us,” I say, giving a decisive nod as if this were a common occurrence between the two of us—as if he were a normal man.

“You’re stalling.”

“I am not.” My pulse kicks up.

Except I know damn well that I am.

The corner of his mouth ticks up in amusement. “You wear men’s clothing and go hunting in the forest alone,” he says softly. “Let us not pretend you care at all if you appear proper to anyone.”

I hesitate, my eyes darting from side to side looking around for an escape.

“Get in, Miss Valmont, or I will make you,” he says with no emotion.