Cathedral (Cradle of Darkness 1)

Her only answer was a whimper.

Last night’s feedings, this morning’s cup of blood, and her most recent binge on my wrist had already strengthened her, the wounds on her neck closing while I took all the damn time I desired, licking them clean.

Poor, trembling thing wasn’t accustomed to her food being so much stronger, not after her beautiful fangs had found their prize. Not when I stood over every feeding she’d ever had, threatening even elder vampires to remain still or I would see them ended when it was over.

Ancients tolerated her brazen feasts. Younglings died.

She sounded like the little girl she had not been in so many decades. “My father will see you punished for hurting me.”

I could not help my smile, or the touch of conceit warming my voice. “A master’s bite is a common reprimand in training. If you don’t wish to feel its sting, learn.”

She squirmed, as if only just noticing my hand over her sex. “This is—”

“Tell me now, before I escort you into the other room. Have you had enough of my blood to keep your wits through a proper feeding?” Strengthening my grip on her just enough to give a hint of discomfort, I drove my point home. “If you lie, and if you kill our guest, your punishment will be worse than a gentle nip on the neck. So think on your answer, Jade. Do you need more of me before you attempt to feed?”

More fight went out of her. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Why? Are you expecting to fail?”

Yes. We both knew she had zero restraint or self-control. “If you fail, I’m going to make you stronger.”

Jade hated when I spoke this way. She hated it. Already I could feel her tensing even further, and considering the punishments I’ve doled out over the years, I grasped why. But I am gentle compared to her father… and oh so careful.

The fact that she wasn’t fighting harder to extricate herself from my grapple, the fact she hadn’t fallen into a full-fledged panic, demonstrated that my less than idle threats were working. However, there is still a great deal of bite to her question. “Are you going to let me up?”

Smiling into her hair, I consider how much longer I might get away with holding her so close. King Darius placed very specific rules to prevent me from ever earning her love: I’m forbidden from courting her. He will always unravel any progress I’ve made circumventing that decree, leaving the girl with nothing left but hate for me as he walks away laughing. It’s with a delicate touch that I seek to upend and take what I can between his visits with his child. Considering I broke a vow by confessing that I loved her, knowing what that will cost me should my transgression be uncovered, I’m willing to bend the rules a great deal this round.

But even I can’t break them.

Not yet, at least

“Answer the question, Jade. Do you need more of my blood before you attempt to feed?”

“I… no.”

And right there I knew I’d won. She would kill the vampire waiting to serve as supper, and I would gain another inch in this eternal battlefield.

Chapter Thirteen

Jade

“I won’t do it.”

“You will.”

The way he murmured his easy retort, the way I could feel it against the flesh at my throat… I didn’t need to see Malcom’s eyes to know they glowed. If my father were Satan, this infuriating male was Lucifer. A fallen, devious angel. God’s lost Morning Star.

Again, and with every fiber of denial I might muster, I spat my refusal. “I will not do it, Malcom.”

“At what time did you think you were being given an option?” Pushing my hair behind my ear, tucking it back despite its crusted, unwashed state, he allowed his touch to trail over the delicate shell.

Practically naked, hardly a scrap of silk could hide my shiver. No, all I had to hide behind was old, dried blood and dirt.

I wanted to cry.

I had cried, in front of this man.

Seven nights of punishment, each progressively worse, because I couldn’t… I couldn’t not kill my prey. And this one was already sobbing.

A pure-born vampire child, no older than twelve. A terrified, blood-fat babe dragged into the same pit I’d been thrown in when I’d made a genuine endeavor to kill my guardian four days past.

It was the first real violence I’d attempted in all the decades of my life, outside of the feed. Every last cell, each singular thought, had been focused to a point. I’d sprung, used every pathetic trick I knew, and he’d… toyed with me.

Laughed.

Mocked each swipe of my arm as he waltzed under the best assault I could muster. Faster than a human’s eyes might catch, our bodies had danced. I’d even drawn his blood. One single slice across his cheek, and then I’d been forced to watch his tongue dart out to catch the black rivulet I’d earned.