That was a good question.
If Ryker knew what Brynleigh was proposing, he’d be outraged. But he didn’t know. Besides, she was doing this for him.
“He has no feelings about it because I’m keeping him in the dark.” Truth. “It’s not that difficult. Men are… easily swayed. Besides, he thinks since I was Made, I’m weak.”
Another lie, although there were bits of truth nestled within those words. Even though Brynleigh knew Ryker thought she was strong, others in the Republic of Balance looked down on vampires because they were gifted with, not born into, their magic.
“Does he now?” The silky smoothness of Jelisette’s voice deepened, and she canted her head.
One moment, the deadly vampire was behind the desk. The next, thick, unnatural darkness shrouded the room.
Brynleigh went to scream, but no sound came out. Sharp nails dug into her throat, compressing her airway.
With vampiric strength, Jelisette lifted her progeny off the ground andsqueezed.
Oh gods, oh gods,oh gods.
Maybe Brynleigh had miscalculated. She stiffened, her heart a mallet pounding against her chest as she tried to remain calm.
It wasn’t fucking working. Calmness was a distant dream.
Brynleigh’s palms slickened.
Pressure built, built, built behind her eyes.
Her lungs squeezed as they tried—and failed—to draw air.
She flexed her fingers, wanting to reach up and pull those nails out of her throat, but she didn’t dare do that.
Not yet.
Giving in now would only prove to Jelisette that she was weak and untrustworthy.
So, Brynleigh remained still, even as those sharpened nails sank deeper. At first, they were needles, but soon, each one was a knife digging into her tender skin.
Brynleigh didn’t dare move. She wanted to keep her head, thank you very much.
The scent of copper grew stronger, wet rivulets trickling down her neck.
Her shadows throbbed in warning. Her head spun. Her fangs ached.
Death’s cool eyes drilled into the back of Brynleigh’s neck.
“Are you lying to me, daughter of my blood?” The question was soft, like a feather wrapped in velvet.
Brynleigh tried to talk, but the hand around her throat was too tight. Jelisette loosened her grip just a touch.
“No,” Brynleigh gasped through the pain. “I’m not.”
Those nails dug in deeper. “Tell me, child, why should I believe you when you already broke the rules once?”
“Because I want the same thing as you,” Brynleigh rasped. “I want revenge.”
Those claws sank in further.
Rivulets became rivers, blood coursing down her throat.
Black spots swam in Brynleigh’s vision, and tears pricked behind her eyes. She hadn’t said goodbye to Ryker. Not really.