Page 27 of The Vampire Debt

I feel a stab of guilt at finding him attractive. I should find him repulsive to look at.

“Have you always lacked basic table manners? You eat like a wild animal.” One corner of his mouth twitches. He is enjoying this—a cat playing with its food right before it delivers the fatal blow and devours it. He slowly stands and mirrors my stance, leaning forward on the table.

My gaze snaps back up to his. I know he’s baiting me. I know I shouldn’t rise to the occasion, but so rarely does he say anything that is not intended to crawl under my skin and force me to react.

“Kill him… Kill him then return home to me.”

I look down at my hands gripping my knife and fork so hard my knuckles go white. The candlelight glints off the metal. This elaborate dinner, the accommodations, it’s a slap in the face. As if I should be grateful that he’s bestowing such luxuries upon me when I’m a lowly human who deserves to fight tooth and nail to just survive another day.

I swing my hand with the knife, slashing at him and aiming for his heart.

His hand moves lightning quick, his fingers wrapping around my wrist, stopping me. The knife never makes it close to his chest. I fight him and use every ounce of strength I possess. My arm shakes and he’s not even struggling. His fingers squeeze, applying more and more pressure until I cry out and drop the knife. The pressure eases instantly, but he remains holding me.

Mr. Devereaux leans forward so I can feel his breath on my cheek.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he says through clenched teeth, his fangs bared with the slightest hint of blood still on them. His red ringed eyes lower, lingering on my throat. The tip of his tongue darts out between his teeth and I’m drawn to the motion. “Dinner is over.”

He turns and starts walking out of the room, dragging me behind him. I pull on my arm but it’s no use and I have to practically run to keep up as he leads me through the manor.

Throwing open the door to my room, he practically throws me inside, only then letting go. I stagger a few steps to catch my balance.

“Do not bother leaving your room until you can act civilized,” he snarls.

Then the door slams shut.

Chapter Twelve

Alaric

My back pressesagainst the closed doors to my rooms. Black, heavy drapes hang over the windows, blocking the outside world from view. More hang from the four posts of my bed, tied back neatly with silken rope.

I fight the urge to find my way back to that infernal woman. I have lost my apatite… no, it’s the opposite, it is sparked, and the fact that she is the root of it disturbs me.

At dinner, my gaze had caught on the sensitive patch of skin where her neck and shoulder meet.

I had planned on making her uncomfortable at dinner, to make her squirm in her chair as she ate each and every bite of her food. I wanted every sip of blood I took from my glass to be a threat so she would know that her blood is next.

It had worked, but she did not fear me. Every word I spoke seemed to set off her temper. And then she had tried to stab me. Her willingness to murder an innocent, and her attempt on my life, as pathetic an attempt as it was, only serves to remind me why I have never taken a human during the claiming before.

To look her in the eye, her expression—she had appeared fearless but the pulse beneath my fingers, wrapped around her wrist, betrayed her true feelings. The contrast of the two is enticing even now.

I have unknowingly let her into my mind, allowed her space there, giving her the power to make me forget myself and let my hold over my control slip when she insulted me.

She makes an attempt on my life and callsmevile. It was not the word itself, but the venom with which she spewed it that did it.Shewas the murderess.Shehad struck down Rosalie. Rosalie who would never have harmed a human, no matter how awful.

I wanted to kill Clara, to drain her of every last drop of blood in that dining room… but I couldn’t. So many years of living the way Rosalie wanted—it seems as though I am now incapable of the same cruelty as this mortal.

“You seem awfully out of sorts today, Alaric.” Cherno flies into my chambers, passing through the wood paneling as though it were only fog, a sealed letter hanging from their clawed feet.

I turn to face the fire blazing in the hearth, choosing to ignore the prying tone.

“What is that you have?”

“Nothing,” Cherno says, flying farther across the room. “Tell me, Master, about the girl.”

“There is nothing to tell, so hand over the letter.” I cross the room intending to snatch it from the little imp.

Cherno flies higher out of reach, large red eyes growing large, a pout on their furry little mouth. I groan, knowing I’ve lost the battle.