She blinked, taken off guard by the abrupt question. “What?”
“You’ve been out for forty-eight hours; do you need food?”
“Forty-eight hours?” she breathed in shock. Dammit. She’d thought she’d been out an hour, maybe two. “What did you give me?”
“A drug to make you sleep.” He shrugged. “It’s harmless to humans.”
Fury raced through her at the risk the leeches had taken with her life. The drug might very well have been safe for humans, but she wasn’t entirely human.
Not that she was going to admit as much. It was a secret she intended to take to her grave.
“Have you ever heard of allergic reactions?” she instead growled. “You could have killed me.”
His bored expression revealed his supreme indifference to whether she lived or died.
Yeah. Über-jerk.
“Do you want food or not?”
She wanted to tell him to shove his offer up his ass. Thankfully she wasn’t stubborn enough to cut off her nose to spite her face. She needed to keep up her energy if she was going to find a way out of the dungeons.
And fuel if she was going to risk using her secret mojo.
“I’m starving.”
“I suppose you nibble lettuce like most females?”
“A double bacon cheeseburger with loaded potato skins and a chocolate shake,” she ordered. “Oh, and one of those deep-fried apple pies.”
He snorted. “Is that all?”
“You can throw in a few Buffalo wings with blue cheese dipping sauce.”
His gaze briefly lowered to her tiny frame, which barely weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. For a fleeting second his gaze lingered and his eyes flared, as if he’d just been hit by an unpleasant sensation. Then, with an obvious effort, he was shaking off his strange reaction.
“Your funeral,” he muttered.
Sally rolled her eyes. “I hang around with deranged curs and megalomaniac vampires, not to mention evil deities; I doubt it’s cholesterol that’s going to put me in my grave.”
Again that glorious indifference to her expected life span. “It will be at least half an hour. The chef here only cooks vegetarian, so they’ll have to order out.”
“Vegetarian?” She blinked, wondering if it was some sort of inside joke. “I thought the Anasso’s mate was a pure-blooded Were?”
“She is.”
“And she . . .” Sally gave a shake of her head. “Never mind. I’ve clearly stumbled into a madhouse.”
“That about sums it up,” he said, so low that she barely caught the words.
She frowned. “If that’s how you feel, then why are you here?” “Because my king commands it.”
Hmmm. A stewing mutiny?
“And you’re always an obedient little soldier?”
Easily seeing through her attempt at “divide and conquer,” the vampire turned to leave. “I’ll return with the food.”
“Wait.”