his seat, and after a while, he stopped watching me. I looked at Christian again and gave the wrist tug. Come on, come on, I thought. Put it together, Christian.
His eyebrows suddenly shot up, and he stared at me in amazement. Well. He'd apparently figured out something. I just hoped it was what I'd wanted. His look turned questioning, as though asking if I was really serious. I nodded emphatically. He frowned in thought for a few moments and then took a deep, steadying breath.
"All right," he said. Everyone jumped again.
"Shut up," said one of the guards automatically. He sounded weary.
"No," said Christian. "I'm ready. Ready to drink."
Everyone in the room froze for the space of a few heartbeats, including me. This wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind.
The guards' leader stood up. "Do not screw around with us."
"I'm not," said Christian. He had a feverish, desperate look on his face that I didn't think was entirely faked. "I'm tired of this. I want to get out of here, and I don't want to die. I'll drink- and I want her." He nodded toward me. Mia squeaked in alarm. Mason called Christian something that would have earned him a detention back at school.
This definitely wasn't what I'd had in mind.
The other two guards looked to their leader questioningly. "Should we get Isaiah?" asked one of them.
"I don't think he's here," said the leader. He studied Christian for a few seconds and then made a decision. "And I don't want to bother him anyway if this is a joke. Let him go, and we'll see."
One of the men produced a pair of sharp pliers. He moved behind Christian and leaned down. I heard the sound of plastic popping as the flex-cuffs gave way. Grabbing a hold of Christian's arm, the guard jerked him upright and led him over to me.
"Christian," exclaimed Mason, fury filling his voice. He struggled against his constraints, shaking his chair a little. "Are you out of your mind? Don't let them do this!"
"You guys have to die, but I don't," snapped Christian, tossing his black hair out of his eyes. "There's no other way out of this."
I didn't really know what was going on now, but I was pretty sure I should be showing a lot more emotion if I was about to die. Two guards flanked Christian on either side, watching warily as he leaned toward me.
"Christian," I whispered, surprised at how easy it was to sound afraid. "Don't do this."
His lips twisted into one of the bitter smiles he produced so well. "You and I have never liked each other, Rose. If I've got to kill someone, it might as well be you." His words were icy, precise. Believable. "Besides, I thought you wanted this."
"Not this. Please, don't- "
One of the guards shoved Christian. "Get it over with, or get back to your chair."
Still wearing that dark smile, Christian shrugged. "Sorry, Rose. You're going to die anyway. Why not do it for a good cause?" He brought his face down to my neck. "This is probably going to hurt," he added.
I actually doubted it would ... if he was really going to do it. Because he wasn't...right? I shifted uneasily. By all accounts, if you got all your blood sucked out of you, you also got enough endorphins pumped in during the process to dull most of the pain. It was like going to sleep. Of course, that was all speculation. People who died from vampire bites didn't really come back to report on the experience.
Christian nuzzled my neck, moving his face under my hair so that it partially obscured him. His lips brushed my skin, every bit as soft as I recalled from when he and Lissa kissed. A moment later, the points of his fangs touched my skin.
And then I felt pain. Real pain.
But it wasn't coming from the bite. His teeth only pressed against my skin; they didn't break it. His tongue moved against my neck in a lapping motion, but there was no blood to suck. If anything, it was more like some kind of weird, twisted kiss.
No, the pain came from my wrists. A burning pain. Christian was using his magic to channel heat into my flex-cuffs, just as I had wanted him to. He'd understood my message. The plastic grew hotter and hotter as he continued his barely there drinking. Anyone who'd been looking closely would have been able to tell he was half-faking it, but too much of