Page 27 of The Demon Prince

“Make your deal, Katherine.”

“If I could understand it, then it would be much easier to seek out an explanation for why you are suddenly having these cravings. Or how I intend to help you. In fact, I do believe it would be best if we considered all the options. After all, a craving for blood could be caused by many maladies.”

Was she trying to diagnose him? As though his need to drink blood was somehow a strange illness that had come upon him?

Amused, he watched her try to argue herself into an explanation.

“You see, I’ve spent a good amount of time in the almshouse and I know how to tell when someone is ill. There are plenty of potential realities that would make you crave something like blood. Perhaps a lack of iron in your own, for example. Have you had anyone look at your gums? You can tell a considerable amount about someone based on the health of their gums.”

“No one has looked at my gums.”

“So you see, there could be a reasonable explanation for all of this, and you have no need to continue feasting upon anyone’s flesh.”

“Katherine,” he stopped her and leaned over her chair. Bracing himself on either arm, he loomed over her as he stared into her eyes. “I do not have a malady that you can fix. I am not ill or unwell. I desire blood because I am a demon, and that need will never go away, no matter how much you try to fix me. Although I am flattered by your dedication to the healing arts, it is not necessary for you to diagnose me. I know what my problem is.”

“And that is?”

He flashed her a dark grin. “I like the way you taste.”

She immediately looked down, and he knew it was too much to say. He shouldn’t have been quite so forthcoming with his desires. He shouldn’t have laid it all out in front of her, admitting that he was a terrible monster who wanted nothing more than to eat and devour. And yet, that was who he was. He consumed. At first it had just been food, or adventure, then it was objects, and eventually it became people.

The ultimate delicacy.

“I see,” she whispered.

“Do you?” He leaned down, dragging his nose up the long line of her neck just because he could. And because he wanted to prove a point. “If I let myself truly indulge in all my desires, I would already have my fangs deep in this lovely neck. I would drink deeply of you until you coated every inch of my body. Until I could smell nothing but your honeyed blood, tasted nothing but your courage and foolish bravery, and heard nothing but the sound of your gasps in my ears.”

And there it was. The gasp, just like he’d thought he would hear. She let out a little sound along with it, not quite a moan, but closer than any other noise she might make.

He hardened so quickly that the zipper of his pants became painful. He wanted her. Oh, he wanted a thousand things with her, and he feared he would never get his fill.

But he would. He always did. Gluttony had never been this obsessed with a mortal, but he had suffered through such an obsession before. She would soon find that he was not the man she thought he was. Because someday, he wasn’t certain when, another woman would walk by with a unique sent as well. Another woman who maybe smelled like wildflowers rather than honey, and it would be enough to draw his attention away.

No blood had ever satisfied him. Not for very long.

She tore her gaze away from her twisting hands to meet his gaze. And oh, that bravery would be his undoing.

“I want to make you a deal, demon king,” she said. “I know you are interested in my blood, and I know it has become too tempting for you to deny. I wish for you to take my blood.”

“And in return?” he growled.

“I wish for you to drink only from me.” Her eyes narrowed, sharpened, that intelligence blaring through her gaze. “You will drink from no one else while you have my blood, and that is all.”

“You ask the impossible.” But oh, he wanted.

“It should not be impossible for me to ask you to have a little restraint.”

“You are not asking for me to have restraint, you are asking to be my only blood donor.” That was impossible. He’d kill her. Just the thought of having someone that was his alone, someone who would come to him whenever he wished to drink, for however long he wished?

He’d murder her the very first night. He wouldn’t be able to hold himself back, and that was too dangerous to risk.

But she tilted her head back, and he saw the flexing of her jaw. “I know how to heal people. So I know the ways to keep them alive. I will not put myself at risk for your thirst, but I know where it would be safe for you to drink from me, and how much blood I can lose.”

“You think you are good for this job because you are a healer?” he asked, incredulous. “That is asinine.”

“It’s intelligent,” she corrected. “You have killed more people than you know with your careless feeding habits. At the very least, I know how to keep myself alive, even if you do not.”

He’d killed more people... “Is that why you’re here?” he asked, suddenly realizing what this deal really was. “You think that by offering yourself, you’re saving all the other people in your village from the monster who wishes to drink from their throats?”

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