Page 65 of Hunt the Dusk
“Well…” Ezekiel plucked his shirt off the ground and shrugged it on. “That was invigorating. It’s been a while since I decapitated an ancient.” He smirked. “I think I might develop a taste for it.” He adjusted his cuffs and sauntered toward me. “There’s a delightful tavern on the road back to Branwood Castle. We can stop for supper if you like.” He offered me the crook of his arm. “Shall we?”
I accepted. “Yeah. I’m fucking starving.”
We didn’t endup stopping at any tavern. Safer to keep moving, and once the high of the fight wore off, Ezekiel fell silent.
He barely spoke two words to me on the carriage ride back to Branwood. He read his little book for a while, then put it away and closed his eyes in what I was certain was fake sleep because it was nighttime and he was a vampire.
He was obviously ignoring me, which allowed my brain to do all sorts of thinking about last night. About how he’d felt on top of me and that kiss…That fucking kiss and then…wait…Wait a fucking second.
“Ezekiel, did you feed me your blood?” He continued to fake sleep. “Stop pretending to sleep and answer me.”
“How do you know I’m pretending?”
“You just responded to me, after all.”
A smile teased the corner of his delectable mouth. “I could behalfasleep.”
“Or you could be faking it to avoid a conversation with me.”
“And why would I want to do that? Conversing with you is always such a delight.” The smile peeked through for a moment before he staunched it.
“This is serious. Did you feed me your blood?”
“Yes.”
My pulse spiked. “Oh my God. I feel sick.”
“A little delayed of a reaction, don’t you think?”
I gagged, and he laughed. “Why? Why would you do that?”
“You needed it or you might have died.”
The whole thing was fuzzy, and I’d have to take his word for it, and why the fuck did he still have his eyes closed? “Look at me. Will it…affectme in any way?”
He opened his eyes and arched a brow, his expression amused and curious in equal measure. “Like what?”
I gritted my teeth, not in the mood to be toyed with. Funny how quickly my magnanimous feelings could evaporate given the right nudge. “You know what I mean.”
“Maybe, but I want you to say it. Out loud. I want you to hear how ridiculous you sound.”
“Ridiculous? How is it—” I held up a hand. “You know what? Just tell me yes or no. Will it turn me into a vampire?” I glared at him, unembarrassed because for all I knew it could be a real possibility, heck, maybe even a new plan of his.
He made me wait, staring back at me without giving anything away for long, aching minutes in which I wanted to scream at him to answer me already.
“No,” he said finally. “It will not. My blood is clean of the virus that rages through the lower echelons. If I wanted to turn you, then I’d have to drain you to the brink of death, feed you my blood, then kill you.”
Wait a second…hehadalmost drained me and then fed me his blood. “So if I die now, then I’ll turn into a vampire?” My voice went up a notch.
“Which is why I asked Godor to take you to Branwood upon your waking, but you, as usual, subverted my plan.”
His words were background noise to the panic raging like wildfire through me. “Oh God. What have you done?”
“Calm down, woman. You’re fine. I didn’t feed you enough to turn you, and even if I had, the effects wear off after twenty-four hours.” He closed his eyes and shifted in his seat, getting comfortable. “Get some rest. It’s been an eventful weekend, theculmination of which will no doubt lead to an even more eventful year. Sleep may become a luxury soon enough.”
It was a valid point. Killing an ancient had put the other nobles on notice, letting them know that Ezekiel wasn’t playing, that a challenge to his reign would be met with force. In an ideal scenario, this would be enough to make sure no one else gunned for the crown, but there was very little that was ideal about Dracul or the way it was run, and I suspected all Ezekiel had succeeded in doing tonight was making more enemies.
It looked like I’d be working hard to earn my paycheck this year.
