We all had a price to pay in this life. Blood and tears would be mine.
14
Ryder
I combed my fingers through Willow’s white-blonde hair. Her strands were so soft, like silk. I could pet her like this all night, the activity oddly relaxing.
My lesson hadn’t gone as planned. I’d wanted to express that Damien biting her was the only kind of sharing I’d ever allow, but she’d lost herself to the pleasure before I could explain that part. Then she’d gone off on a fascinating rant about what her life should have been.
It demonstrated a significant flaw in her programming, one that would have earned her an execution in this world. But I found the fracture oddly endearing. I wanted to exploit it, draw that hidden part of her out into the open and seduce her.
I knew there was something special about her. A fire that shouldn’t exist but did. I wanted to bask and burn in her flames, to experience every part of her on the way to hell and back.
My sweet, darling Willow.
She had no idea what I wanted to do to her.
Her admissions tonight were just the tip of the iceberg. I was curious as to whether she’d remember all that she had said or if she would think that some of it had been in her head.
She wondered what I would do with her when I was done playing with her. It was a valid concern, one I couldn’t address because I didn’t know. I wouldn’t send her back to the breeding camps, nor would I make her a meal. Both ideas repulsed me. And I certainly wouldn’t give her to another vampire. She was mine.
A buzzing sounded from the monitor near the bed. I frowned at it as a sultry feminine voice said, “You have an incoming call from Silvano.”
“Do I?” I asked, arching a brow. “That’s odd considering he’s dead.”
“Command unrecognized. Would you like to answer, decline, or—”
“Answer,” I cut in, irritated by the insufficient programming. What was the point of artificial intelligence if they couldn’t pick up on a hint of humor?
“Answering now,” the female said.
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for the play-by-play.”
“But I haven’t even started yet,” Damien replied.
I snorted. “The AI needs to be updated.”
“I know.”
“Tell Benita to take care of it.”
“Already done,” Damien replied. “But that’s not why I’m calling.”
I continued combing through Willow’s strands, her mind quiet with sleep. “Has someone died?” Because that would be the only reason for his intrusion this late into the night. The sun would be rising soon, and while it didn’t really impact me, the brightness made my kind uncomfortable. Our sensitive senses preferred the darkness.
“Yes.” Damien cleared his throat. “Garland.”
My eyebrows lifted. “How?”
“I killed him.”
“Ah.” I never much cared for the old vampire. Hell, I didn’t really like any of my kind. Damien was the exception, probably because I’d created him. His sister also qualified as an exception, mostly because she wasn’t actually one of us.
Her mate, however, was a different story entirely.
Ignoring my walk down memory lane, I focused on the reason for Damien’s call. “Why?”
“I walked in to find him entertaining some of his friends in the penthouse. They’d already gone through six of your harem members before I arrived.”
“How many are left?”
“Of his friends, or your harem?”
“The harem.” I’d trained Damien myself. He would have killed all of Garland’s friends, minus maybe one whom he would use to send a message. No need to go into the details, as it was exactly what I would have done in his situation.
“Eight,” he replied. “They’re scared shitless, too.”
In other words, not my type. I preferred to play with fire, not mingle with mice. “I trust you’ll take care of them.”
He grunted. “You could use a fuck more than me. I’ve been regularly active. Meanwhile, you’re playing with a pet that you’ve barely touched after how many years of inane celibacy?”
“Aww, I didn’t realize you cared,” I drawled. “Will you be grading me on my technique next?”
“Do you even know how to fuck in your old age?” he tossed back.
“Have you forgotten that I had nearly four thousand years of experience before I turned you?” I asked him.
“Yes, yes, I know, you find this all boring and dull. You miss the fight.” I could hear him rolling his eyes.
“You’re only a thousand years old, Damien. Give it another millennium or two and you’ll understand.” There was an art to devouring prey—an art my kind seemed to have forgotten.