Page 84 of Vampire so Virtuous

“No,Antoine.” He’d rarely heard so much venom in a single word. His lips twitched in response, and her glare only intensified. “It wasn’t hard to find you. I googled you, okay? Have you heard of the internet?”

“I once fed on a computer scientist,” he said airily. “Does that count?”

Her jaw clenched. “Is that your idea of humor?”

He shrugged. “Why have you come here, Cally?”

“I told you. I want this mark gone.”

“It’s not something that can be removed.”Because I’m not going to remove it.

“Find a way,” she said through gritted teeth.

“There is no way,” he replied. She’d come here with demands; what would she do with a flat ‘no’?

She pulled her hand from her pocket, revealing a small, modern-looking torch—black, with a purple lens and matching switch. She pointed it at him, the device off but her finger hovering over the button. “That’s not acceptable.”

“It’s permanent.” Antoine watched her closely, intrigued to see what she’d do. “The only way to remove it is to kill me.”Probably.He didn’t actually know what happened to marked chattel when their vampires died. It had never come up.

“If that’s what it takes.” Her thumb rested on the purple switch.

She hadn’t yet pressed it. Was she reluctant to kill him, or simply hesitant to kill in general? She couldn’t harm him, of course, but it was entertaining watching her while she thought she could. When was the last time he had so much fun?

“Do you think your torch will hurt me?”

“You fed from me—don’t try to deny it. You fucking fed from me, and you called me ‘food.’ Didn’t you?”

“Yes, I fed from you. Though technically, it was Minh who called you ‘food.’”

Her fingers tightened around the torch. “Do I look like a goddamn Big Mac to you?”

“Not at all.” He pointed with his head toward the small table beside her. “You look more like that glass of Margaux. Besides, I don’t eat junk food.”

“Was that another joke?”

He liked the way she lifted her chin, her defiance as tantalizing as her scent.

“More of a compliment.”

“Get rid of this mark, or I’ll prove to the world that Anthony Du Pont is a fraud. This house, yourcharitable good deeds, your incredibly unsubtle use of the same name for three generations. I’ll expose it all.”

He stroked his beard, studying the anger in her eyes.

Elle a du cran… she had some nerve. It took effort to keep his expression serious and hide his smile.

“Do you think anyone will care what you tell them? As abhorrent as itmay be, money makes your world work, Cally. I have it. You don’t. Whatever noise you make, one call to the mayor, and I’ll get an official apology while you’ll destroy your life and career.”

She shifted in her chair, the scent of her fear growing. “You have dirty politicians in your pocket now?”

“My options were limited,” he said dryly. “I’ve never met any clean ones.”

She aimed the torch at him, her grip tightening until her knuckles whitened. “You’ve fucking marked me, like a dog pissing on a lamppost,” she spat, as if reminding herself of his crimes were all the excuse she needed to press the button. “You drugged me and fed from me. You raped my mind and you sunk your teeth into me.”

He had never sat down and talked to his prey before—or had one speak to him like this. Her tone, more than her threats or the vulgarity of her insults, stirred his irritation.

Maybe from her perspective, what she said was true. But he was a vampire, and she was chattel. It was like a chicken complaining to a human at KFC. Did it make any difference that humans were more sentient than chickens? He still had to feed, he still had to live, and the blood of animals couldn’t sustain a vampire. Besides, it tasted terrible—he knew; for the longest time, he’d tried.

She extended the torch toward him, her hand trembling slightly. “Undo the mark, Antoine,” she demanded again. “Last chance.”