Page 53 of Trapped for Her Blood
There is absolutely no chance that I will fornicate with this vampire—even if it might help solve the current aggravation between my legs—and no chance I will share any information with her about Ember.
But Gracen seems to have reached the limits of what she will share without self gain.
I glance to the side, as if checking for anyone who might be listening, hoping that the gesture will increase the perceived value of what I plan to offer Gracen. “My mate,” I say softly. “As you know, she is human.”
Gracen nods.
“We plan to escape.”
Gracen bends over laughing. “You are fucking hilarious. And I suppose you’re going to offer to take me with you if I help?” She rolls her eyes.
I most definitely was not, but I suppose I now have to claim that I will. I can easily find a way to exclude Gracen from my plan later.
“I will share my escape plans with you, but only if you swear on your life to keep my intent quiet. To tellno onewe plan to escape.”
“Oh, okay, professor.” She chuckles, clearly not taking me seriously, which makes me feel better about my falsehood that I will take her.
“I’ll keep your super-secret escape plans quiet. Cross my heart and hope to die.” She makes a cross sign over her chest.
“Good.” I nod, not reacting to her mocking. “Does Psycho hold the power of the Ancients?“
“The Ancients?” She grins. “Professor, your stand up routine is getting better and better.”
“Then what is the explanation?”
“Explanation for what?” She rests her boot heel against the wall.
I fight my urge to sigh in frustration. It is not Gracen’s fault that she cannot keep up with my thought processes.
“Since you state that Octavia was human when she married Psycho, I assume he is her Maker, and since she possesses unusual powers for such a young vampire, I have always assumed her Maker may have been one of the Ancients, or perhaps himself Made by one.”
“Psycho?” Gracen’s shoulders shake with laughter. “One of the Ancients?”
I frown. “Explain what is so amusing.”
“First, they were both human when they were hitched. And it’s Octavia who Made Psycho.”
“What? Are you certain?”
She nods. “If you believe Psycho—“
“Do you?”
“Do I what?” Her eyebrows rise.
“Believe Psycho.”
She shrugs. “Got no reason not to. In fact, pretty sure he’s too stupid to pull off something as complicated as lying.” She chuckles. “He would have embellished the facts by now.”
If this conversation yields no additional useful information, at least I have discovered that Gracen is more intelligent than she first appeared. “That is an astute observation and insight.”
“Gee, thanks professor.” She smirks as she shakes her head.
“Please.” I gesture between us. “Please continue.”
She rolls her eyes. “In the 1920’s, Psycho was in a New York City mafia family. Second son of a don who wanted to expand to Philadelphia, a booming city at the time.”
I nod. Nothing about this contradicts my knowledge.
