"Yes," I answer without hesitation.
"What would you be willing to do to get one?"
I yank my hand free and groan in disgust. "Go. Now. Before I murder you and let the rats eat your carcass."
"Sexy," he says with a chuckle.
I take in a breath, preparing myself before following after him. I stay close behind so I can see each step as we squeeze down the passage that looks like it was hand-dug and re-enforced haphazardly with piles of stones. I try not to think about whether it's stable, or what it would feel like being trapped in here if it caved in around us. Dizziness makes my steps falter as a light coat of sweat breaks out along my skin. By the time we reach a set of steep stone steps, I have to use the wall's support to stay upright.
The stairway is so narrow Brendan slides through sideways. The tight space makes my pulse thrum. My lungs feel like I'm breathing through cotton. I press against the stone, but I swear it's closing in around me ... a trickle of sweat rolls down my cheek.
I catch the scream in my throat when a hand comes down on my shoulder. I swipe it away as if it were a spider.
"Touch me again and you bleed," I seethe.
He slides open a door and we enter the Quiet Room on the main floor with its worn leather couches and wingback chairs.
My entire body is shaking when I step through. I collapse against the cool stones of the fireplace, fighting to catch my breath, bent over with my hands on my knees.
Brendan slides the bookcase back into place.
"You gonna be okay?" he asks, his hand hovering above my back, but he doesn't make a move to touch me.
"Yeah," I breathe out with a shudder.
Once I've pulled myself together, I stand and cross the room toward the shadowy foyer. Brendan follows. I don't expect to find him still behind me when I reach the stairs. I turn to face him from atop the first step.
"Where are you going?" I demand, not even trying to be nice about it.
"Making sure you get to your room okay."
"Thanks for sneaking me in, but I can manage from here," I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Are you sure? I'd hate for you to get lost on your way to your room."
"I've got it." There is no way in hell he's getting near me or my room ... ever. Even if he does smell good.
Brendan steps up next to me.
I can finally see his face. And I think I may hate him.
His hair is naturally platinum blond, not silver. I wasn't wrong about the angles of his face, but he doesn't have the deathly pallor of a vampire. His bronze skin makes him look like he's spent the summer on a yacht. To make things worse, he has big, brown eyes lined with thick lashes and beautiful full lips a guy should never be allowed to possess.
I hate him.
"I'm in room 14, on the fourth floor."
When I just stare at him like he's delusional, he adds, "So you can find me when you want me."
"Which will be never."
"You don't lie, Lana. Don't start now." He winks.
I glare at him.
He leans down until he's within a breath of kissing me, and defiantly I grit my teeth and don't move away. "You're going to need something from me eventually."
"Go away."