There was the slightest flicker of her lashes before her guarded expression was being replaced by a mocking smile. “Tell me, Roke, do you hate all women, or is it just me?”
Roke muttered a curse, abruptly recalling Styx’s words: You do remember how to seduce a young, beautiful woman, don’t you . . . ?
Dammit. He was supposed to be charming the female, not pissing her off.
Shifting the tray, he waved a hand in front of the cell door, using his powers to turn the lock. As it swung open he stepped through and closed it behind him with his foot.
Entering the cell, he moved to set the tray on the narrow cot before straightening to meet her frustrated glare.
Okay, time to be charming.
Forcing his muscles to unclench, he strolled forward. “Maybe you could change my opinion,” he murmured, his gaze lowering to the sensual curve of her lips.
Sally blinked, clearly baffled by his abrupt change. “I don’t care enough to make the effort,” she at last retorted. “I prefer Lysander’s company.”
Roke battled back his surge of anger. “Forget the fairy,” he warned in soft tones. “He’s obviously too susceptible to be an adequate guard.”
“Why?” she demanded. “Because he didn’t beat me?”
He hissed, dangerously disturbed by the thought of any man daring to raise a hand to this female. “No one would dare mar that perfect skin,” he rasped, moving close enough that he could run his fingers down the bare skin of her neck.
She shivered, her eyes widening. “What are you doing?”
Fan-fucking-tastic question.
“Sit,” he muttered, lowering his hands to grasp her arms so he could steer her to the bed. Only when she was perched on the edge of the mattress did he release his hold. “Eat while it’s hot.”
Rolling her eyes, she reached for a ham sandwich and took a savage bite.
“Have you thought about taking meds for those manic mood swings of yours?” she muttered.
Mood swings? He gave a short, humorless laugh. If she truly understood his current mood she’d be hitting him upside the head with the tray.
“You have to admit you haven’t been Miss Sunshine yourself,” he countered.
“At least I have a reason for being so surly.” She polished off the sandwich and reached for another. “You? Not so much.”
With a brooding gaze he watched her work her way through the food. How the hell did such a tiny female consume so much? Weren’t humans always concerned with calories and fat content and all that crap?
Not that there was anything wrong with her slender curves, he silently conceded. They were . . . mouthwatering.
Polishing off the plate of French fries, she lifted her head to meet his unwavering gaze with a frown. “Okay, you’re freaking me out,” she snapped. “What do you want?”
“What makes you think I want anything?”
“You’re looking at me like I was a bug you’re getting ready to squish.”
“A bug?” His lips twisted into a wry smile. “You truly are an innocent if you think that’s why I’m staring.”
She surged to her feet, clearly sensing his smoldering tension if not the reason behind it. “Just answer the question.”
He studied her pale face. He logically understood what he was supposed to do.
Charm her.
Seduce her.
Lure her into revealing what she was hiding.
So, what was the problem?
He might not be as insatiable as most vampires when it came to sex, but he was more than capable of seducing a female.
More than capable.
A teasing smile, a soft confession that he’d been staring at her because she was exquisite. He would gently tuck a strand of satin hair behind her ear and apologize for his rough manners. Perhaps even lead her over to the bed and press one of the ripe strawberries between her lips before urging her back onto the mattress and—
There.
That was the problem.
He couldn’t make a game out of seducing her. Not when the mere thought of running his hands over that pale, peach-scented skin was enough to send him up in flames.
Shit. If he wanted the truth, he was going to have to find a less perilous means of acquiring it.
Folding his arms over his chest, he met her wary gaze with a determined expression. If he couldn’t finesse her, he’d out-stubborn her.
“Tell me what you know about Gaius.”
Predictably she heaved a sigh of resignation. “For god’s sake, how many times do we have to go through this?”
“Until I’m convinced you’re telling me everything you know.”
She threw her hands in the air. “I already have.”
“Has he always been able to infect humans with his bite?” Roke closely watched the shock that rippled over her pretty face.
“What did you say?”
He frowned. Her astonishment seemed genuine enough. Of course, she might have prepared herself for the question.
“You heard me.”
“He infects humans?” She gave a shake of her head. “I’ve never heard of a vampire being able to do that.”
“Because it’s not natural.”
“I . . .” She gave another shake of her head. “What does he infect them with? A disease?”
He stepped close enough to tower over her, trying to intimidate her at the same time he was futilely pretending her warmth wasn’t seeping into his skin and heating his blood. “You would know better than I.”
Waving away his accusation, Sally jerkily turned to pace the small cell, chewing her bottom lip. “Why haven’t you caught him?”
Roke grimaced. She wasn’t acting. There was no mistaking the fear that was spiking the air. She didn’t know about Gaius’s newest trick.
Of course, he was still certain she was hiding something from him.
What better opportunity to discover just what it was?
“A little nervous, are you, witch?” he murmured. “Afraid that Gaius might suspect you came to Styx to tattle on him? Maybe wondering if he’ll come hunting for you?”
He’d expected her to be worried by his soft words. That’s why he’d chosen them, after all. But he didn’t expect her to freak out.
“Do you think he will?” she breathed, the pulse at the base of her throat fluttering in terror. Then, with a panicked sob, she was darting toward the cell door, grasping the bars as if she could pull them apart. “Dammit, you have to let me out of here.”
“Calm down,” he commanded, taken off guard by her violent response. “Even if he did manage to track you here, there’s no way he could get past Styx’s security.”
“Is that a joke?” She tried to shake the locked door. “He already got past Styx’s supposed security.”
Roke grimaced. It was true. At least in part. “Fine. Then there’s no way he’ll get past me.”
“Like you would give a shit if he decided to have a little witch snack,” she hissed. “You would probably cheer him on.”
“He’s not going to get you. You’re—” He swallowed the word “mine,” which had ridiculously formed on the tip of his tongue.
Holy hell, he was obviously losing his mind. This female was a pain in the ass who would make a man miserable even if she weren’t a witch. He felt nothing but sympathy for the schmuck who would be stuck with her.
Didn’t he?
She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m what?”
With a low growl Roke moved forward, grasping her by her upper arms and shifting her away from the door. “I’ll come back for the tray later.”
“Are you kidding me?” She desperately grasped his T-shirt, her eyes wide with horror. “You can’t keep me locked up. I’m a sitting duck.”
He glanced down at her pale face, his hands unconsciously skimming down her arms to lightly encircle her wrists.
Why was she suddenly so frightened of Gaius?
“Think, Sally,” he urged in stern tones. “Where would you go where you’d be any safer?”
“I won’t stay trapped here,” she snarled. “I won’t.”
Roke parted his lips, but before he could demand to know just what was making her act like a crazed woman, he felt a sudden heat explode inside him, scorching through his veins with an incandescent force.
Oh . . . hell.
He’d known the witch was going to be trouble.
He’d known it on a cellular level.
And now she was killing him.
Nothing else could explain the sensation of his body being shattered into a thousand pieces as a light as fierce as the midday sun burst in the center of his being, transforming him even as it catapulted him toward the eternal sleep.
Magic.
A sweet, drugging magic that allowed him to smile with delight as a tidal wave of darkness crashed over him.
Sally watched in astonishment as Roke dropped to the floor with enough force to make his head bounce against the cement.
“Crap on toast, what have I done?” She fell to her knees at his side, her hand reaching to lightly touch his face.
