Page 36 of The Vampire Debt

I feel empty. My mind and mouth have betrayed me and even still his power lingerslike the caress of a lover.

“I hate you,” I rasp out. My knees give out and I slump to the floor.

Alaric kneels before me smiling. Then his face goes hard and stony, his fangs glinting in the firefight.

“Make no mistake. You are alive only because I wish it to be so. I could kill you before you took your next breath if I felt the whim. If something should happen to me, there are plenty of vampires far worse than I who wouldn’t hesitate to take my place.” He pulls away, releasing me roughly.“Your death at their hands would be infinitely worse than anything I could give you.”

My breath comes in short, quick bursts.The adrenaline running though my veins makes it hard to even my breathing. My mouth is as dry as cotton.

His words are muffled, his face blurs before my eyes.

I can’t catch my breath.

He reaches for me as darkness moves in.

Chapter Sixteen

Clara

I wake in my room,sitting up with a start… and instantly regret it. My head swims, aching and foggy. I pass a palm to my forehead in an attempt to stifle the pounding.

What happened?

One minute, Alaric and I were fighting and then… and then he was compelling me—forcing the truth from my lips.

I slide my legs off the edge of the bed and freeze when I see the dagger laying on the top of the night table. Taunting me.

It’s a threat. A dare for me to try again.

I stand. My legs are still weak, but I force them to steady. Grabbing the dagger, I storm out of the room, determined to find him and let him know that I still do not fear him and his tactics will not work on me.

After a minute, my pace slows and I pant with the exertion. For once, the doors to the library are open wide, but among the vast shelves of books that lines shelves from floor to ceiling, a few chairs, and an unlit fireplace, there seem to be no signs of life within.

I take a few steps inside, enthralled by the sheer number of books. All my life I’ve had the one book that sits beside the bed in the room assigned to me. There are more books here than I could ever hope to read in my lifetime. The idea of reading something other than the book Mother gave me is both intimidating and thrilling.

On the far right is a dark mahogany, spiral staircase leading to a catwalk that is halfway up the wall. This room spans all three floors. Rain beats against the windows that span almost as high.

I want to run my hands along the spines of the books, I want to pull each of them from the shelf and flip through the pages, devouring each and every word and inhaling the smell of ink and paper and leather binding.

“You are awake,” Alaric’s voice says softly behind me.

I nearly jump out of my skin as I spin to face him. It is one of the few times he’s not scowling or raising his nose in the air to look down on me.

His dark hair is mussed as if he spent the last hour running his hands through it over and over. But the rest of him is immaculate, from his dark trousers, his freshly pressed shirt and black vest with intricate gold brocade, to his neatly tied cravat.

I nearly forget myself as I look at him in the dim light, the pattering rain against glass is the only sound for a long moment.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, attempting to approach slowly.

How do I feel… he means after he compelled me. And with that thought my anger has returned.

“I am fine,” I bite out, “no thanks to you.”

He flinches slightly at that.

I stomp toward him, letting my fury give my legs the energy to move quickly. I shove the point of the dagger toward his face. I expect him to stop me, to take the dagger, or step away. But he doesn’t move. The sharp point nearly touches the underside of his chin.

“You are threatening me with this, and it won’t work.”