Midnight's Kiss (Elder Races #8)(26)

She glanced at Julian. He still hadn’t stirred. Stifling her worry, she leaned a shoulder against one of the bars and said to Vampyre Guy, “She’s not very nice to you, is she?”

He snapped, “She’s my sire. She doesn’t have to be nice.”

She shrugged. “I get it. She tells you what to do, and you have to do it. Still, a little appreciation would be nice, wouldn’t it? I mean, you’re clearly carrying most of the load here, aren’t you?”

Vampyre Guy gave her a scathing look. “What do you care?”

That was her cue to call on what acting skills she had. Melly turned her full attention onto him, met his gaze and gave him a slow smile. The Light Fae were a charismatic people, which was one of the reasons why they thrived so well in the entertainment industry, and Melly had more than her fair share of the attribute.

She watched him blink rapidly as the impact hit him. Yeah, she thought, I might never win no Oscars, but I still got something, babe.

She told him in a soft, sincere voice, “When I asked for more food and water, I didn’t realize it might put you in danger. I’m awfully sorry.”

With an obvious effort, he dragged his gaze away from hers. “You didn’t know,” he muttered. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Still,” she said, “It’s really good of you to get it. I – I can’t imagine how dangerous those Vampyres are, or how hard it is to deal with them.”

He jerked a shoulder as if to shrug off her words, but after a moment, he said almost grudgingly, “You’ve got to keep on your toes with them, and know how to respond if they don’t behave on command. If I didn’t have such fast reflexes and upper body strength, I wouldn’t be able to do it.”

Melly widened her eyes and let the expression turn melting – just a little. Not too much, too soon. After all, they were on opposite sides of the cell bars, and she didn’t want to lose his credulity.

She told him, “Well, I don’t know how you do it. They scare me to death. I haven’t been able to rest at all with them snarling and clawing at me between the bars. Can you leave the gate closed when you go?”

He finished collecting the gear in a pack and hoisted it onto his shoulder, picked up the camping lantern, then turned to her. “I’m supposed to let them loose in here while I’m gone, but it’s not like you can break out of your cell anyway.”

Quickly she switched her melting look into a more helpless expression as she shook her head. “No, I can’t, can I?”

He tilted his head and jerked his chin toward the direction Justine had disappeared. “I’ll lock the gate so they won’t bother you too much.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, holding out a hand toward him – again, not too much, just a brief flutter of fingers before she dropped them again.

Vampyre Guy took a step toward her. She didn’t think he was even aware of doing it. “So, I guess I’m out of the habit of buying food. Is there anything you want?”

Oh for crying out loud, now she had to go and wonder…

Is he one of Justine’s victims too, or an *? Or is he a victim who also happened to be an *? Or am I starting to suffer from a dose of Stockholm Syndrome?

The dial on her people-reading meter hovered somewhere in the uncertain zone.

“I’d kill for a chicken sandwich,” she said, giving him a small smile. “And some cheese and fruit, please. Maybe some granola? Oh, and just so you know – I didn’t mean to put down the candy you brought. The chocolate bars were really terrific. They just aren’t enough sustenance.”

Her sharp gaze picked up how he straightened under the praise.

“I can pick up more chocolate,” he said. “It’ll be a little while before I can get back. Not only do I have to go to the store, but I have to hunt down some people to throw to the wolves to keep them occupied while I come back down here.”

The utter lack of remorse or any true feeling with which Vampyre Guy said it sent her dial swinging deeply into the red. Victim or not, he was an *. She lost all compunction for manipulating and/or staking him if the situation called for it.

Instantly, she clamped down on her self-control and kept her expression soft and sweet.

Possibly even, dare she say it, a touch poodle-like.

“I appreciate you telling me,” she told him. “Be careful.”

He swaggered a little. “No problem. I got it covered.”

Melly’s thoughts raced. Maybe she had accomplished enough in one conversation, and maybe anything else would be pushing too far, but —

Her gaze flicked to Julian. He was still so silent as he hung limp in his chains.

They were in a hot mess. Not only that, it felt deeply unstable, like their situation might change on a whim. On her next visit, Justine might decide it wasn’t worth keeping either Melly or Julian alive, and she might kill them both.

So now was the time to push, even if Melly went too far, because they had nothing left to lose and potentially everything to gain.

And while Justine might not want anything more than Melly locked up and Julian in chains, it was possible that Vampyre Guy might want any other number of things a lot more than his current situation.

Immunity from prosecution. Money. An easy life.

Freedom from Justine?