King Tomb (Forever Evermore, #3)(13)
Whispering harshly, I stated, “Now, you’ll have to add Miss to that Fuck You.”
Knife deeply imbedded in my stomach, he twisted it sharply to the left.
I jerked even as his other fist blurred, slamming into my stomach below the knife’s entry. Air exploded from my mouth as my body flew back, swinging with his hit’s impact. Unable to breathe, pain reverberating in pulses through my body, I did not give a shit when I swung back and he stopped my progress by grabbing my throat, holding tight as he ripped the knife free, placing it three inches lower on my abdomen, directly below my belly button.
His voice was cold and without inflection. “Your name?”
Eyes dipping, drugs and agony pulsing through my mind, I tilted my lips in a cruel smile, singing breathlessly, “Fuck, f*ck…f*ck you.”
I was sliced again.
And again.
Again.
The * managed to keep me coherent enough for me to be able to reply with my witty answers.
A bit lost in my daydreaming of what I was going to do to him, I must not have heard him ask for my name again because he sliced into my thigh from behind. The pain was horrendous, and I choked on a silent scream, blood dripping down my body from multiple wounds that didn’t heal thanks to the silver cuffs. My head fell back onto his chest, and I didn’t bother moving it, not really thinking I could anyway.
Unhurriedly, he ran the tip of his finger down the side of my face, very gently brushing the sweat-soaked hair off my cheek, an action that was the direct opposite to yanking out his blade from my vulnerable flesh. Softly, he whispered at my ear, “The punishment for a traitor is death.” He set the bloody blade against my throat. “And you don’t belong to this camp. I would suggest you hurry and tell me your name before you bleed to death.” The tip of his knife pierced the side of my throat. “Or I could just kill you now and be done with you.”
I grunted, rasping, “Oh, Mr Asshole Vampire, you know you’re having too much fun with me,” and I knew he was, “to off me so soon.” My head tilted so I was staring up at him, cheek against his hot, hard pec. I analyzed his face the best I could through the blurriness, memorizing each perfect line I was either going to break or crush, or envisioning a bit of both. “God, I’m going to enjoy hurting you just as much as you’re enjoying this.” My blue eyes met his green ones. “Maybe more since this hurts like a son of a bitch.” No need to lie and act tough, since this would hurt anyone.
One eyebrow rose. “You won’t be hurting me unless you wish for death.”
“Some days I do,” I murmured absently, caught on not only his words, but the way he had stated it as if it was fact-based. Then there was the fact that he knew with absolute certainty I wasn’t part of this camp. I wasn’t able to use my Shifter senses to tell if he was speaking the truth or not with his previous comment, so I asked slowly and maybe with a bit of a slur, “What is your name?” God, I hated hunches, and I was going to be pretty damn pissed off if after enduring this f*cking shit I couldn’t have retribution on this *.
His head cocked so he was looking at me a bit more straight on. “You do realize I’m the one asking the questions…and I’m the one with a knife to your throat.” It wasn’t really a question, so I didn’t answer. After a few moments of analyzing me while I blinked blurrily at him, he sighed heavily. “You really are going to pass out soon from blood loss.” He appeared annoyed by this, and I knew the feeling when someone continued to pass out while you were interrogating them, the bore of delaying entertainment. “I’ll tell you mine, but I’ll expect the same in return.”
I was becoming agreeable to this since it was taking Antonio so long to find me, and I believed Mr Asshole Vampire’s assessment to be correct. I was damn close to passing out cold, my thoughts quickly becoming indistinct, which meant I needed to be released soon. I did not want to be unconscious while caught like this, or worse, become so incoherent I would risk flashing fang in an attempt to bite someone. So be it if my name got me down from here. “You have my word.”
The Vampire nodded once, the action appearing to have tracers, confirming my thoughts further, and he stated evenly, “I’m Ezra Zeller, King of the Vampires.”
I blinked. “I want you to know you are officially at the front of the line of people I despise…and that includes Coms.” And the curses that flew were whispered since that was all I could manage. “God hates me. Fucking hell, God seriously hates me.” I inhaled heavily, still unable to scent him with the silver containing my powers. “Why couldn’t I smell you before?” I blinked, sniffing again, realizing there was still a lingering scent dusting both of us that I didn’t need a Shifter’s nose to smell.
Marijuana, that was why. “Drugs are bad, drugs are bad, drugs are bad.”
I yanked at my cuffs, the action more of a feeble wiggle, but I was furious. “Isa is never doing drugs. I will kick her ass if she does this shit.” I rattled the chains again, still rambling to myself while glaring at him and his blank expression.
“Goddammit!” I muttered breathlessly, slitted eyes on the f*cking…Vampire King…someone who was as untouchable as I normally was. “Sure, Lily, smoke some f*cking weed, and whatever else was in it, and try to relax past the nothingness. Have a little fun with the Shifter you thought was probably a damn cat. But, wait, nope, he’s the goddamn Vampire King.” Another wiggle of the chain. “Fucking masking. Masked myself right into f*cking torture when I can’t do shit back even once the damn cavalry finally arrives.”