Page 62 of Deadly Alliances

What did she mean byherwitch? Shea had come here posing as a prospective Initiate. She couldn’t have… Could it be that…

Marguerite tucked a loose lock of hair almost lovingly behind Shea’s ear, and to Shea’s credit, she didn’t flinch. “I’ve never truly known a witch before. The last one I came across stole something valuable to me.”

Marguerite flicked her gaze to me for an instant, and I did my best to quiet my uneven pulse. This mission of Shea’s was dangerous enough as it was, but being assigned to Marguerite? Please, not that.

“But I can trustyou, can’t I, Shea?” Marguerite said sweetly.

If I didn’t know Shea’s body and soul so well, I would never have detected the hatred and fury hiding behind her compliant expression. “Of course, Marguerite—Maggie? Mistress? What do I call you?”

And there it was. Shea was Marguerite’s Initiate. Did she plan it that way? Or was this just some cruel twist of fate? If Marguerite caught even the slightest whiff of the relationship between us, she’d turn Shea’s slaughter into a drawn out game—and make me watch. Hell, she might just slit her throat for the hint of sass I detected in Shea’s mocking response. I widened my eyes at her, cautioning her to tread carefully, to behave.

“Marguerite is fine,” Marguerite said in a clipped tone, making me suck in a sharp breath, scratching my parched throat and sending me into a coughing fit.

Marguerite looked down at me with false sympathy. “Oh, my love, I forgot you haven’t fed today. Let’s remedy that right now. Shea.”

I gasped at the insinuation, forcing my cough to intensify.

“Huh?” Shea squeaked, her eyes widening in surprise as her posture stiffened.

Marguerite cut an impatient scowl at her. “What are you waiting for?”

Shea fidgeted on the spot. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you—”

“Feed Julian, of course,” Marguerite snapped. “Can’t you see he’s thirsty?”

“Oh, I just—you want me to—right, okay,” Shea stammered, awkwardly scurrying around the bed to sit on my other side.

She tugged at the sleeve of her coat on her arm.

“What are you doing?” Marguerite asked snidely.

“Offering him my wrist?” Shea replied, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

Marguerite rolled her eyes and scoffed. “We drink from the neck here. Honestly, you have much to learn.”

Shea glanced down at me with apprehension as I continued to hack against the insatiable itch.

The thought of tasting her euphoric blood charged every cell in my body with desperate need, and there was nothing I wanted more. But I understood her hesitation. Here, in front of Marguerite. If we weren’t careful, either one of us might expose our intimacy. And as weak and destitute as I was, I wasn’t sure I could restrain myself.

“Well? Hurry up,” Marguerite huffed. “If you can’t feed a vampire, you’re no good here.”

“Right,” Shea said, and as she gathered her hair to one side of her shoulders, I saw the realization that she’d have to feed Marguerite as well hit her—that fact terrified me as much as it did her.

She slowly lowered herself above me, stretching her head to the side to offer me her neck. Her vein thumped beneath her delicate flesh, beating a cadence that drew me in like a clarion call. Her sweet scent fell all around me, tickling the scratch in my throat, and I couldn’t resist any longer.

With a rush of effort, I gripped the other side of her neck and pulled her down over my open mouth and waiting teeth. She gasped as my fangs penetrated, spilling her delicious nectar onto my tongue and lighting every one of my nerves on fire. My eyes rolled up into my head as I tried to savor, to drink slowly, but it was too damned good! And I was so thirsty! I couldn’t hold back, couldn’t not suck on her with all the force I could muster.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Marguerite’s voice sliced through my bliss a moment before Shea’s neck was ripped from my mouth.

“Ah!” Shea hissed, clapping a hand over her neck, which continued to bleed.

“We don’t want to drain her on the first day,” Marguerite chided. “Witch, come.” She curled her finger at Shea as she leaned over me.

“Wha—” Shea mumbled, appearing a little light-headed.

Marguerite scoffed again. “Let me seal the bite. I don’t want you bleeding all over my sheets.”

“Oh.” Shea leaned over my abdomen toward her, and Marguerite bit her tongue and licked over the angry wound. The skin closed, stopping the spill of any more of Shea’s precious blood.

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