WALL MEN: A Haunted House (The Wall Men 1)

My head starts to spin, and I brace myself against the wall of the long hallway. “I need to lie down.”

“I will take you to your chamber to rest.”

I nod in agreement.

She walks me back, taking small steps and showing far too much kindness by letting me wrap an arm over her shoulder for support. I wonder why she’s doing it. Is it because that underneath the tough talk, they’re not so different than us humans? The nice ones, anyway. I’d like to think so. Not that I’m right in the head, but maybe I’ve been so busy obsessing over monsters that I haven’t bothered paying attention to anyone’s actions. No, you’ve been busy with the Blood King.

The thought of him launches my body into a fit of tremors. I need him. I need him. Where is he?

We get back to my chamber, and Uhrn helps me into bed.

“Can you do it?” I ask, my body sweating and shivering from withdrawals.

“Do what?”

“Take away the pain.”

Her dark eyes go wide with shock. “I would never dare bite a Norfolk.”

“But you can?” I sit up, shoving my wrist towards her face.

She turns her head and holds up her hands. “Proxies are sacred.”

“I don’t know what that means.” I just want her to fucking bite me. Is that so hard? She’s a vampire, and I’m human—monster caviar. “Please, I’m begging you. Just do it.”

She shakes her head. “I’d rather be devoured by a No One than taste one drop of your blood.”

I don’t know what a No One is, but I don’t care because the pain is too much.

Uhrn leaves the room. And I scream until I can’t scream anymore.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I’m in Paris, sitting at a little table next to a busy sidewalk, sipping espresso. I’m waiting for someone I really want to see. My heart is all jittery, and my stomach is a mess of flutters.

I pat the side of my head, making sure my bun is intact. I want to look good for him. Where is he? He promised not to be late.

I pull out a cigarette and light it while watching random people stroll by. Some are in a hurry. Others are talking on their phones. I really don’t care who they are or where they’re going. I just need to see him again. I don’t care if two worlds are standing between us. I know where I belong.

I glance at my watch impatiently. If he doesn’t get here soon, I’ll lose my nerve. I can be brave some of the time, but not all of the time. And this is a brave moment—my chance to turn the tides so he’ll fight for me. For us. Instead, he’s obsessed with loyalty, honor, and duty. What about being happy?

I flick my cigarette onto the sidewalk and stare at my watch. “Fuck. Where are you?”

“Lake?” says a deep voice.

I look up, expecting Bard.

No, I’m hoping for Benicio. Yes, he’s who I need.

But when my eyes finally focus on the source of the sound, it’s Alwar. Human sized, shaved clean, and wearing a black suit.

My breath hitches. He looks so different. So…beautiful.

His crisp blue eyes lock on mine.

“What are you doing here?” I mutter.

“That is a very good question. Why don’t you tell me? This is your dream.”

“Lake?” says a soft voice, pulling me away. “You have to take another sip. If you do not, I will be punished.”

I open my eyes to find a familiar pasty face with long curly black hair. As usual, she’s wearing all black, like it’s a damned funeral.

“Go away.” I want to go back to sleep. I want to see Bard. No, Benicio. But I saw Alwar instead. Why?

Cream Cheese tries to lift my head and hold a clay mug to my mouth. I push it away. Whatever’s inside, I want nothing to do with it.

“Why do you want to poison me?” I mumble. “Aren’t we friends?”

She laughs, her dark eyes tearing up. “You? Me? Friends? I would rather fuck a Skin.”

I sit up, feeling like my back’s going to split open if I don’t relieve the pressure. “If you’d rather fuck a Skin, then why are you here?”

“Stupid human. Do you not understand anything?”

“I understand facts, none of which have been shared with me. So fuck you.” I add that last bit out of respect for her culture.

“I will make a trade. You take a sip, and I will answer a question—any question that does not have to do with where our Blood King is.”

I give it some thought. Can I really afford to pass up this opportunity?

“Hand it over.” She sits on the edge of the bed and gives me the mug.

She waits for me to take a sip of the nasty sweet liquid. I push it to my lips and force myself to swallow.

“I would rather fuck a Skin than be here with you,” she says, “but I will not. They are food to me and nothing more.”