Page 16 of Thirst
“Really?” His lip curled. “Kinda hard to heal yourself when your brain and body is scattered across North Atlantic. The sun would’ve risen before we found all the pieces. And Eden’s human. We barely got her off the boat in time, and then we had to row her to Lilith Island in a fucking inflatable dinghy.”
Shame heated my skin. “I knew you’d save her, that you’d find the leak in time.”
“And if we hadn’t?”
I licked my lips. “I—it was a calculated risk, yes. But I had to make it look good, because—” My gaze slid from his. He was right. The simple, ugly truth was that I’d been too afraid to help Eden escape. “I’m sorry,” I said, low-voiced.
Gods, I was a coward.
And now I’d lost Cain’s respect. Or maybe he’d never respected me.
Maybe he’d been stringing me along, trading orgasms for information.
His growl made every muscle in my body tense up. “Sorry doesn’t cut it. By the time we got back, Eden was dehydrated and half-frozen. You’re lucky she didn’t lose the baby.”
My shoulders slumped. I nodded dully. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Nyx!” Jerome thumped on the door again.
Cain’s mouth snapped shut. Like magic, a switchblade appeared in his hand. He touched the point to my throat above the choker, a silent warning.
I stared back, shocked. He couldn’t have cut deeper if he’d driven that switchblade straight into my heart.
Maybe he was right not to trust me. I was Nazaire’s daughter, after all, and even though I wanted out, I was only willing to go so far to help Cain.
It’s not like the Maritime Syndicate were saints. They were vampires with blood on their hands, same as my father. Same as me, if I was being honest.
It still felt like a betrayal. My whole life, the people closest to me had lied to me, used me, discarded me. Starting with my mother, who’d handed me over to Nazaire the day after I turned four—for a million euros.
Was I that easy to give away? That unlovable?
“Answer me, Nyx.” Jerome again. The door handle jiggled. “What are you doing in there?”
“Answer him,” Cain mouthed. He’d retracted his fangs, but he didn’t look any less dangerous.
“Une minute, s'il te plaît,” I called back.
Cain leaned in, voice ice-cold. “We’re not done.”
I worked my jaw from side to side. I just wanted to go back to the hotel and lick my wounds in peace. “Yes, we are,” I said wearily.
“The Hotel de Nuit,” he said like I hadn’t spoken. “I’ll come to you—midnight.”
I heaved a breath. Since that fiasco on the island, my father had increased the eyes watching me. Slipping away got riskier each time. But Cain wasn’t going to let this drop.
“Not in my suite,” I told him. “I’ll meet you in La Cave.” The vampire speakeasy beneath the hotel.
A curt nod. “I’ll be at the bar—the man with the stainless-steel pin on his lapel. And clean up.” He sniffed my throat, an insulting drag of breath. “My scent is all over you.”
He grabbed his jacket, tossed me my thong, and vanished into the shadows.
Jerome banged again. “Open this door. Now, Nyx.”
I ground my back teeth together. “I said, in a minute.”
I quickly washed up and smoothed on some of the Dioriviera lotion on the washroom counter. Now I smelled of roses instead of Cain.
I stepped into my thong, biting my lower lip when it brushed against my sensitized skin. I’d be feeling Cain for the rest of the night, including a phantom pain where his teeth had sunk into me. I tugged my skirt down, aware he must be watching.
