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THE OUTCROP IS a scoop of hollowed dirt at the base of the slope, overshadowed by a tangled thorn tree with exposed roots. I would have passed it by completely if the person meeting me wasn’t already waiting there. As soon as I see his black garb and gold-ringed irises, it makes sense.
Who else could offer the kind of help I need?
Not just any guard, either.
It’s the tawny-eyed bloodsucker, one of the two guards who serve the House of Ell as carriage footmen and other dogsbody duties—like assaulting innocent Silks in their bedrooms.
Those eyes sharpen to prick me, then soften out of focus. “Are you sure you’re in the right place, little Silk?”
I don’t want his help. I don’t want anything to do with him. “Amanda sent me.”
“And where is the lovely Amanda?”
“I don’t know. Will you help me or not?”
“That depends.” He reaches up to pluck a thorn from an overhanging branch. “Well, let’s hear it.”
Tension bunches my shoulders. Decision time. Trust Amanda and jump in with both feet. Or listen to the doubts clawing at my gut and bolt.
I choose the possibility of Gabe. “A friend of mine is a Silk in the barracks. Gabriel Winters.”
He takes his time with that, using the thorn as a pen to lazily draw jagged lines of blood across his palm. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Blond hair,” I prompt, watching the thin trails of blood sink back into the cracks before the broken skin heals over. I can’t tear my eyes away. Did his body seriously just reabsorb his blood before healing? “Blue eyes... What are you doing?”
“Doodling.” His gaze lifts to me. “Which means I’m bored. Bad news for you.”
He wouldn’t dare hurt me. Would he? “Gabe—Gabriel Winters. He hasn’t been in the barracks long, a couple of days?”
“Ah, now I remember.” He tosses the thorn, his mouth quirking. “We don’t often get them fresh from the hunt.”
I don’t even want to think why it’d matter. Blood is blood. “Do you have a way for me to see him?”
He cocks his head, his eyes drifting down my throat. “Anything can be arranged for the right price.”
A knot hardens in my stomach as the price becomes clear. He’s not exactly subtle about it. “The prince will kill you,” I say with certainty.
“And he’ll serve you to the king.” The guard shrugs. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Amanda wasn’t kidding. This is a huge a risk, a gamble with my life if the prince ever finds out he’s unwittingly shared his food.
My heart beats a fast tattoo at what I’m about to agree to. “One condition. You won’t release any of those pheromones when you feed on me.”
“I couldn’t even if you begged me to. Only the royals and their elites have that ability.” He steps closer, his eyes lingering hungrily on my throat. “We have ourselves a deal. I’ll bring your Silk to you, but first there’s the matter of—”
“No, don’t bring him here,” I cut in. If I take this gamble, I’m going big. “I want you to arrange a work assignment for Gabriel outside the barracks. That’s the deal.”
“Done.” A smile slides over his mouth. A satisfied smile, as if he’s just won something off me. “Your Silk friend will start mucking horse shit in the stables from tomorrow. I’m sure he’ll thank you for the cushy job.”
I eye the bloodsucker suspiciously. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.” Another step closer. “I’ll inform the steward he’s conditioned and ready for proper labor. No one really gives a damn about the buffet Silks, so long as they’re home in time for supper. What is your name?”
“Senna,” I say cautiously. “What does it matter?”
“I’m Nial.” Another step and he’s got one hand curled around my neck, the other brushing my hair aside. “It matters, because it seems we’re going to be friends, you and me.”
“I sincerely doubt it.”
He snaps his jaw and slowly lowers his mouth, inch by inch as dread lances my bones. What have I agreed to? I swallow a cry as his fangs pierce the sensitive skin at my throat, breathe through the pain as his lips latch on and suck.
The burn pulls from my heart through to my main artery, tugging down on my eyelids. There’s no flood of warmth to distract me. Instead of pleasurable sensations, panic builds inside me. The constant pulse and pull is a drum, a fire beating a passage through my body.
He’s sucking the life from me.
My heartrate spikes, chasing terror into my veins and drawing every ounce of strength in its wake.
“Stop,” I murmur, my palms pressing weakly at his chest. “Please.”
He doesn’t stop. He scoops an arm around my waist when my legs fold out from under me.
My world condenses to a rhythm of terror.
Pull. Burn. Pulse. Burn. He’s taking too much.
Pull. Burn. Pulse. Burn. He’s draining me dry.
The rhythm fades. I’m passing out...or passing on...but no, the pull and pulse is numbed. His mouth is gone from my throat.
Something hard, cold, pressed to my lips. “Drink.”
My eyes flutter open.
A flask.
My lips part, allowing him to drizzle sweetness into me. Not fruit juice. It’s dense and syrupy. It tastes like liquid sugar, nauseating, but a few sips send a buzz to my thickened head and weakened limbs.
He sets me down on the ground, gently props me against a wall of dirt. “Give it a minute and you’ll be good as new.”
The headache sitting on my brow disagrees. “You took too much.”
“A measly sip,” he says lightly. “I’m always careful, you may count on it. I’m not an idiot to rouse the prince’s suspicions. It just feels different without the royal pheromones. You’ll get used to it.”
“No, I won’t.” I’m not destined for the buffet. Ever. “This is a one-time deal.”
“Eh...” He folds his arms, looking down on me with an oily grin. “We never actually settled the price, did we? I’m giving you access to your Silk friend whenever you wish to skip by the stables. That’s worth...” His eyes narrow on me as he considers. “A week of feeds, I think. You’ll meet me here at eight-thirty each morning. Don’t be late.”
“I thought you said you’re not an idiot,” I mutter, furious at myself and my naïve hopes of seeing Gabe. This will never work. “Every morning for seven days? We’ll be caught.”
“Not with the necessary precautions. There are very few guards around during the daylight hours.”
“It only takes one in the vicinity to hear us.”
“And I’ll hear them coming before they hear us,” he drawls. “We don’t walk around tuned in, you know. That would drive us stir crazy, the constant bombardment of random noise inside our heads. We only listen when we’re hunting or tracking or have a specific reason.”
Good to know, but somehow it doesn’t raise my confidence by much. I’ve tried—and failed—to evade bloodsucking Vampyres before. Nial hasn’t.
I stare at him, but it’s me I see, a pitiful reflection of myself, slumped here from the loss of blood. Waiting for his sugary brew to do its magic and refresh my body for the next bloodsucker.
I have no choice when it comes to the prince.
But this...if I do this, if I trade my blood for favors, this is all me.
“Three days,” I bargain. “That’s more than fair.”
“Five,” he counters. “My final offer.”
I study his rounded face, the soft stubble at his jaw. He can’t be much older than me. Could I barter another day? He doesn’t have the hard, cruel look of a conniving Vampyre. But there is the heartless way he stripped my clothes while his buddy held me down, of course. Looks can be deceiving.
“Four days,” I say grimly. “Including today.”
“We have a deal, then.” He flashes a grin as he turns from me.
Absolutely bloody great.
My eyelids shutter as I rest my head back.
I need one more minute.
There aren’t enough minutes in this lifetime to make me as good as new.
When I next open my eyes to glance at my watch, it’s a quarter past the hour of eleven. The time for meeting Kane has come and gone.
I wonder if he even made it to the waterfall.
I wonder if any girl has ever stood him up.
I doubt it.