‘Shame you couldn’t have turned up ten minutes earlier,’ I said, my voice matter-of-fact. At least he didn’t appear to be showing any ill-effects from whatever injuries he’d sustained. Of course, I could only see his face and hands; the rest of his body was elegantly hidden by a designer suit in his usual black—even his neck was covered between his hair and the high Nehru collar. ‘But as you’re here now, and you appear to have taken control, maybe you can help sort it out?’
He stared at me, a fine line creasing between his brows, pinpricks of anger flaring deep in his pupils.
I frowned. What the hell was he angry about?
For a moment I thought he would speak, then the pinpricks in his eyes turned incandescent with flames; he came towards me, his rage sending shockwaves of burning air that lifted my hair and scorched like the desert sun over my skin. Terror slammed inside me and instinct warned me to flee. But this time I remembered my stepmother’s words: you don’t run, you don’t struggle; it gets a vamp too excited. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stand and face him.
He halted, close enough that the October chill that still clung to his body cooled the heat burning over mine, close enough that the blue veins pulsing under the translucent skin of his throat blurred before my eyes, close enough that the slow, shallow thud of his heart shouted of his need and thirst in my ears.
Not just angry, but hungry too.
Shit. I was neck-deep in trouble here.
I shivered as he smoothed a hand over my head and I felt him twist my ponytail around his fingers. He tugged on my hair, forcing my chin up, leaving my throat vulnerable. My pulse sped faster, jumping under my skin. I stared into his eyes. The flames in his pupils snuffed out, leaving them as opaque as obsidian, a thin film of blood colouring the sclera. Bloodlust. Fuck, he was on the edge of bloodlust ...
My heart hammering with fear, unable to stop the trembling in my body, I placed my palm against his chest, wanting to push him away, knowing I wouldn’t, not when the 3V in my blood urged me to give him what he sought. He lowered his head, but instead of my throat, he touched his lips to mine, demanding that I submit. My mouth opened beneath his almost of its own volition and I felt the sharp sting as his fangs pierced my bottom lip. He pulled my lip into his mouth, sucking painfully hard, and as I tasted the honeyed sweetness of my own blood a whimper of terror escaped me. His other hand closed around my throat, almost choking me as he silenced the sound.
A shudder travelled through his body and the pain of his bite dissipated with his mesma, twisting fear to warmth and lust, tightening my nipples into aching peaks, coiling desire hot between my legs. His hands stroked down my spine, cupped me and pressed me closer, his own body hard. My knees weakened and I clutched at his arms, sliding my tongue between his fangs, wanting what he was offering.
‘Genevieve.’ His voice sounded rough, somehow desolate, in my mind.
Then he was gone ... ... leaving me trembling, a slice of sorrow lodged like ice beneath my breastbone.
I rubbed at the cold spot, fear, disappointment and need spiralling through me in a whirlwind of conflicted emotions. Malik stood a few feet away, watching me, a considering expression on his face. The blood-kiss, or whatever it was, might never have happened. I touched my fingers to my bottom lip. It felt bruised and tender, and when I took my hand away, a bright bead of blood shivered on my finger. Anger that he’d treated me like a blood-slave, and that I’d let him, pushed the other emotions away. I held my bloody finger out to him.
‘What the fuck was that all about?’
His eyes skimmed over my body, the look impersonal. ‘You have a penchant for using the bodies of others, Genevieve. I needed to ensure that you were yourself and yourself alone under this new exterior.’
‘Ri-ight. You’re telling me that little tantrum was my fault? Well, you can think again,’ I said flatly, as I tried to calm the rapid beat of my heart. ‘I know you can tell who I am just by scent, so using my Glamour as an excuse to have a quick bite has nothing to do with it.’
‘Your own scent is strong enough to conceal the scent of another beneath it, so I am unable to distinguish any other within it.’ He lifted one shoulder in a graceful shrug. ‘But yes, you are right, I am angry. You should not have left.’
I shouldn’t have left! Crap, we hadn’t even started negotiating and already he was acting like he thought I was going to behave like some fang-hazed blood-pet. And no way was that happening, no matter how pretty he was. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to ignore the fear—and anger-laced adrenalin hyping my emotions.
‘I am not your property, Malik,’ I said firmly, wanting to get that straight for both of us. ‘So don’t get any ideas about me hanging around waiting for you to wake up every night, ’cause it’s not going to happen.’
For a moment a bleak expression touched his eyes and a chill skittered down my spine, then I decided I’d imagined it as he said, ‘We have the matter of your alibi with the police to take care of.’ He gave my Glamour a disparaging look. ‘You will need time to make yourself presentable.’
I stared at him suspiciously. Had he really searched me out just to provide me with an alibi? Well, it wasn’t like I was going to say no, but—
‘Thanks, I appreciate it.’ I waved an arm at the mind-locked gathering in the hallway. ‘But I’m not going anywhere until I know everyone’s okay.’
‘This is a hospital, Genevieve. The staff are trained, and well-equipped to deal with emergencies such as these.’ He smiled, and I nodded at him, agreeing that it sounded reasonable. ‘There is nothing to be done here by you, so it is better that we do not impede their efforts.’
As if someone I couldn’t hear had shouted ‘action’, Grace got up. Her determined gaze passed blindly over me and she rushed to where Moth-girl was buried beneath the two guards. The guards leapt out of her way and at her order one of them raced back down the corridor. Grace knelt, started checking Moth-girl’s vitals—
‘Genevieve.’ Malik’s calm voice commanded my attention. He was still standing, waiting, his hand now held out to me.
I looked at his proffered hand and thought how good it would be to wrap my fingers round his, to let him lead me away from this place to somewhere safe. Only, that wasn’t right, was it? Nowhere was safe, not with him, not with anyone. Damn. The annoying vampire was trying to mould my thoughts. Bad enough he kept using his mesma on me and playing with my senses without adding that.
‘Nice try, Malik.’ I gave him an irritated look. ‘But the vamphypno stuff isn’t working so well, so just forget it, okay?’
‘My words are true, Genevieve.’ He moved to survey the scene behind me. ‘There is no one that can be helped here, but if you insist on staying, I must acknowledge our friends.’
I looked over at Grace; she was untying a white ribbon from around Moth-girl’s neck. Another doctor—Craig, I thought, judging by his bald patch—was prepping to place a shunt in Moth-girl’s throat. Where had he come from? I frowned, uneasy. Had Malik distracted me enough that I’d lost some time? But it wasn’t just the lost time that bothered me ... I turned back to him.
‘... apologise for disturbing you, troll,’ he was saying to Hari, making a gesture that encompassed the hallway, then he inclined his head at the goblin. ‘I offer you both my word that I intend no harm to those under your care.’
‘Fair enough, guv.’ Thaddeus jerked his thumb back at Neil Banner. ‘But what about my charge? My contract states I have to oppose any vampire mind-locks with extreme measures.’ He tapped his bat, his mouth widening in a ruby-glinting grin. ‘So, you gonna let him loose or not?’