A small gasp escapes my lips as he presses a hand against my back to hold me in place.
His face presses up against my neck.
“Interesting…” he murmurs, his nose sniffing up and down my throat.
Every nerve in my body frays and my muscles tighten, fighting the almost unbearable need to flee.
To freaking run for my life.
Having him at my throat is the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever endured in my life.
Period.
I’d rather suffer a million sacraments, back-to-back, than have a vampire sniffing around my neck.
It’s literally feels like I’ve stuck my head into the mouth of a lion, and at any second he could strike and end my existence.
I’d be drained or bled out before I could say the words Saint Benedict.
Leaning back and lifting his head, Nikolaos peers deep into my eyes.
Searching for something…
And it finally dawns on me that his eyes are blue. A bright almost neon blue and not the blazing green that scorched me in my dream.
He’s not my shadow stalker.
He’s just some other bloodsucker that happened to end up in my house.
Gaze darkening with pleasure, Nikolaos reaches up and swipes his thumb across my cheek. Smearing the tears I’ve unintentionally released into my skin.
“Unbutton your shirt,” Nikolaos says, watching my reaction closely.
Too closely.
Like a cat watching a mouse it’s about to pounce on.
He definitely suspects something, I fear. But what? Can he smell me, the real me, beneath the cinnamon oil?
“Chloe,” he draws out, “I said unbutton your shirt.”
My fingers almost jump up to do his bidding before I realize I didn’t feel a tug to obey.
It wasn’t a command.
He’s testing me.
Why, though, is still up in the air.
Either he wants to see how far I’ll go out of pure fear… or he suspects I’m cursed and faking my reactions.
Trembling, I decide the best thing I can do, the only thing I can do for now, is continue to fake it until I find an opening to either hurt him or escape him.
Shaking my head in refusal, I try to pull away.
“Ah,” he sighs with a touch of amusement as his arm tightens and his palm presses harder into my spine. “You devout Order girls are so predictable.”
Jerking me into him, his lips pull up into a wicked grin. “Your extreme modesty… Your virginal ignorance…”
Sliding his hand down my cheek, the tips of his cool fingers drag down my neck and land on the top of my blouse.
When I try to jerk away again, my hands dropping my bag and coming up to push at his chest, he commands, “Don’t fight me, Chloe.”
Feeling the tug to obey, I have no choice but to still and let him do whatever he wants to do to me.
He chuckles as my arms fall down to my sides, limp, then says, “And let’s not forget your weak attempts to protect your innocence…”
Fingers moving incredibly slow, he takes his time unbuttoning the top buttons of my blouse.
His eyes hungrily devour my reaction. “It’s truly lovely, and I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of it.”
Once he has my blouse unbuttoned down to my breasts, he stops and carefully spreads the fabric. Exposing my cleavage.
Mind racing as fast as my heartbeat, I try to come up with a plan to stop this.
Unfortunately, killing or hurting a vampire is easier said than done.
Unlike the old folktales, a wooden stake to the heart won’t do it. Nor will a silver bullet. Weapons will hurt them and slow them down, but only temporarily.
Even the sun only tires and weakens them.
The only way to truly kill a vampire is to cut off their head, and good luck pulling that off unless they’re severely exhausted or incapacitated.
Vampires are incredibly fast and strong. Even with the changes happening to me, I don’t think I can take him.
It will literally take a miracle to get both Charity and me out of this in one piece.
Reaching into my spread blouse, Nikolaos hooks his finger on the chain of my necklace and smirks as he lifts the small cross I wear. “So common among you girls, it’s practically a cliché.”
He yanks on the chain causing a link to snap and the cross to fall into his palm.
Glancing down at the cross, he says, “Cheap and plain…”
Closing his fingers around the cross, his eyes flick back up to me. “But it will go great in my collection, regardless.”
I feel that one word—collection—sinks into me like a pair of psychic fangs. Filling me with dread.
How many crosses does he have?
How many girls in the Order have had the misfortune of encountering him?
Does he hunt us? Is that why he’s here?
Without warning, my head spins, and it feels like time slipped away from me again as my back is slammed hard against a wall.
It happened so quick it takes me a few breaths to realize Nikolaos must have moved us across the room.