Page 65 of This Ravenous Fate
Brisk footsteps sounded down the sidewalk nearby. Before she could even formulate a plan, Layla found herself getting into position to strike. She backed herself against the alley wall, eyes trained on the small patch of sidewalk illuminated by the streetlights. The second the pedestrian brushed into the light, Layla struck, hands grabbing the person’s dress to slam them into the alley wall, fangs bared while she hissed.
Her scent pervaded Layla’s senses before her eyes registered who she had gotten ahold of. Layla backed off immediately. “Shit, Saint, I almost killed you,” Layla snapped. “Why are you alone?”
Elise brushed her ruffled dress off while she scowled at Layla. “I made Sterling stay at the mansion to rest. I think Jamie left.” Thenshe pointed an accusatory finger at Layla. “I knew it. You were planning on killing a person. This is why you cannot be trusted.”
A venomous laugh spilled from Layla. “Yes, I was going to kill a person. That’s why I ran away from the perfectly positioned feast in the ballroom, where there was already a bloodbath in place. Because the hungry intend to run from their meals, right?”
“Don’t do that,” Elise said roughly. She fiddled with the front of her dress, hands shaking slightly. Layla almost felt bad. Either she was genuinely stunned from being attacked in the alley, or she was still shaken up from the ballroom crowd.
Layla studied Elise. “Maybe I just wanted to killyou,” she said coldly.
A shadow passed over Elise’s face, but she remained quiet.
“Is that how I get you to shut up now? I threaten your life?” Layla tried taking in a heavy breath, but the scent of Elise’s blood twisted her brain and split her focus. She ran a hand over her hair, sighing. “You need to go. I’m sure your father will be home soon and then he’ll wonder where you are. Also, I’m not sure if you noticed, but I’m in desperate need of a feeding—”
“That’s exactly why I cannot leave.” Elise stepped closer to Layla.
The blood in her veins heated at the proximity of the sweet-smelling Saint and her blood. Layla had to step back. “Why?” she demanded, trying not to inhale too deeply.
“I cannot risk you killing someone else tonight. My father’s reputation is on the line after this disastrous event, and another life does not need to be lost,” Elise said. She sounded sincere, but herface remained stony.
Layla’s jaw clenched. “I’m not your responsibility.” She tried to walk away, but Elise grabbed her wrist. Layla whirled on her, teeth bared and eyes burning with rage. “Do you have a death wish, Saint?”
Elise did not flinch in the face of Layla’s fury. “You are my responsibility. I’m the reason you’re here. I’m the reason you’re starving now. I don’t want to bring another burden onto my father and our family name—please.”
The slight tremor in her voice made Layla’s anger waver. She glanced into Elise’s eyes and finally saw a seed of desperation ingrained with hopelessness and defeat. Was she finally starting to blame herself for getting Layla turned? Elise’s words carried a guilt that went deeper than just the catastrophic events of tonight. The feeling of her fingers around her wrist did not burn, but instead ushered a welcome warmth into Layla’s skin. Layla pulled her arm back. This time, Elise let her go. The defeat in her expression deepened until Layla felt as if she was almost swallowed whole by it. “What do you want me to do? Wait for you to bring me a blood meal? Because I cannot promise I will—”
“Drink from me,” Elise said.
Every fiber of Layla’s being froze. She stared at Elise so hard, if looks could kill, the Saint heiress would be deep in hell now. For a moment Layla thought she was dreaming. The words could not have possibly come from the Saint heiress, successor of New York’s most notorious reaper hunter. Those words could not have come fromsomeone who claimed to hate Layla as much as she hated any little thing being out of place in her perfect life.
Layla blinked, still not quite breathing. “What?”
“You heard me. I know you heard me, with that powerful reaper hearing and all.” Elise reached for the front of her dress and pulled it open so more of her neck was exposed. The air between them stilled. Layla’s breathing quickened, and her body ignited with heat as she imagined sinking her teeth into that perfect flesh…Elise was giving her access to her throat.
Layla’s fangs pierced her gums again, driving home that painful reminder that she needed to eat. Still, Layla shook her head. “No. Absolutely not.”
Elise’s lips twisted, unpleased. “Don’t be ridiculous. No one has to know. And you’ll be full. And there will be one less dead person tonight. It’s a win for us all.”
“I could kill you,” Layla said quietly.
Finally, a falter crossed Elise’s expression. “You’retellingmethat?” Her tone came across snarkier and more confident than the worried crease in her brow made her look. She bit her lip. “I know just one bite won’t kill me, nor will it turn me. If you’re desirable enough, I’ll probably think about you for a few days after—or, at least until my blood has cycled through your venom. But I’ll ultimately be fine…” She seemed to be reciting the first known rules of reaperhood to herself to soothe her own nerves.
Layla nodded. “You’ll be fine.”
Elise let out a shaky breath. She pushed her hair behind hershoulders and lifted her chin so her throat was even more vulnerable. “Okay. I’m ready.”
“Are you sure?” Layla asked. “I mean… Are you sure you trust me?”
“Are you really asking me that when I’ve just bared my throat for you?” Elise demanded.
Layla blinked. A tiny smile pulled at her lips and she nodded to her dress. “That wasn’t necessary, by the way. I can drink from your wrist just fine.”
The color in Elise’s cheeks darkened as realization crossed her features. And while she nodded, she did not move out of position with her neck bared for Layla. “Drinking from my throat will be faster. Hurry up before your food gets cold.” She laughed nervously.
Layla’s face broke into a true smile. “Shut up.” She gently gripped the back of Elise’s head, her hand curving over her nape, fingers just brushing her curls. Elise let out a soft gasp of surprise. Normally when Layla was hungry, she dug into her food with the intensity of a half-starved beast. If it was anyone but Elise, blood would be spraying by now, drenching the alley walls and staining her clothes. The body would be half-drained in a few minutes and Layla’s stomach full, heart alight with euphoria.
But this was Elise. For that reason alone, Layla was soft. She was careful. She did not rip her fangs through her flesh. But she let her lips graze Elise’s throat first, testing the tenderness and giving her a chance to back out and understand what was happening before Layla made her final move. The kiss of Elise’s skin against her lips made Layla’s stomach flutter. Elise let out another soft sigh and Laylaclosed her eyes, drowning in the sound. The Saint heiress stroked her hand up the small of Layla’s back. And it was at that wordless admission that Layla let herself go.
