Page 40 of Wicked Bite
She began to back away from me with a smile, pulling me along with both hands. “Ohhhh, what a compliment. But also, what a good sidestep of my question. I’ll have to be smarter next time and see if I get an answer.”
“You, my dear, are bloody brilliant.”
She leaned in and gave me a quick little peck on the lips and turned away. “I am, aren’t I?”
“Eternally impressive. So, tell me . . .”
“No, no.” She wagged her finger at me. “If you aren’t going to answer my questions, why would I answer yours?”
“I’ll make you a deal.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to my side. I ducked my head and let my lips brush against her ear.
“More deals with the devil,” she whispered as she toyed with the button on my coat.
“More like devilish.” I gave her ear a little nip, and she let go of a tiny squeal. “So, no deals?”
“Oh, even the devilish intrigues me. So, tell me your deal and I’ll see if my soul is worth it.” She spun out from under my arm and pointed to another statue. “Do you think Hades is as dark as they say?”
“Incredibly so, twisted and obsessed with Persephone. Their kid is even more twisted.”
She spun out of my hold and walked around a pillar. I held still, waiting to see what the little creature would do next. She peeked at me from behind a pillar on the side of the room and tilted her head to the side like she was thinking. “I haven’t read about a kid?”
“I was just, you know, wondering what a kid of theirs would be like.” The lie tasted sour on my tongue, and I instantly regretted it. I wanted to tell her the truth about everything. I found myself wanting to tell her the secrets of the world that humans just didn’t see or know existed. The Greeks were real and still roamed the earth, using their powers for all sorts of things. Hades and Persephone did have a kid, and he was a shit. But I said nothing.
“So much so you’ve forgotten your devilish proposal?” She turned and leaned her back against the pillar.
I walked around the pillar and stepped in closer to her, taking in that sweet honey scent that made my fangs ache like a newly-made vampire. It made me wonder what she tasted like. “How could one forget proposals when it comes to you?”
She chuckled and shook her head, sending those wild waves all around her face. “Smooth, so smooth. Now, what’s the deal?”
I met her bright green eyes. “You give. I give.”
She tilted her head to the side. “And what does that mean exactly?”
“You give some info and I’ll give you some in return.” Truth was, I wanted to tell her everything, or at least as much as I could without bringing down Vampire royalty and the Fallen on myself.
Our world was a secret one, and it had to stay that way. The Fallen, a group of deadly fallen angels, ruled our world with an iron fist. Any information being leaked to the humans would set any of them off, and it would mean my head. But for Piper, I would push that line and more.
She licked her lips and her eyes danced with excitement. “Deal.”
Oh, the games she liked to play. I so enjoyed them. “And your first question is?”
“Responsibilities? What are they and why avoid them?” She twisted away from me and sauntered out of the room toward another filled with brightly colored African art. The pieces were each eloquently sculpted and covered in bright reds, yellows, and greens—all vibrant, natural colors that spoke of nature.
I trailed closely behind her as she walked in a small circle around a mask set on a display stand. She gave me a coy smile then looked away, making me want to get her attention even more. “I’ll wait.”
She waved a dismissive hand and turned away from me to look at another piece, almost like she knew I would follow. I strolled close to her side. “My uncle would like me to return home and . . . take over the family business. I would prefer otherwise.”
Her lips twitched like she was fighting a smile. “What does your uncle do?”
“No, no. I gave. Your turn to give.” If this was the game, I was going to play to win. And the win would be knowing Piper inside and out. The fascinating creature that she was.
Her face fell and her eyes narrowed in that guarded way she had about her. Like talking about herself made her uncomfortable. “Tell me your fondest memory from childhood?”
She pressed her fingers to her lips thinking. “Hmm, that’s a good one.”
I waited as she let another piece of art capture her attention. She stood there for long moments just taking it all it, while all I did was stand there and take her in. I studied her every expression, the way her body glided, and the way her hair flowed with each of her movements. She was captivating.
“Once, when I was younger, they took us all to this woman’s house. She donated her time to the kids. She was an artist and gave us lessons. We got to paint and make little sculptures. I was horrible at it. I’m not much of an artist.”
