Page 87 of Tainted Souls
“Flattery won’t get you out of it.”
With no choice, I start to undress, turning my back to him and moving as quickly as possible. The water is surprisingly pleasant as I slide in, immediately sinking up to my neck. Herbs float on the surface, their scent both soothing and disorienting. Some kind of sedative, I realize too late, my limbs already growing heavy.
“What did you put in here?” I demand, fighting to keep my head above water.
“Just something to help you relax,” Cain says, loosening his tie.
To my horror, he begins to undress, too, dropping each garment carelessly to the floor. I look away, focusing on the ripples spreading across the surface rather than the smirk I can feel on his face. Even the cave walls are suddenly fascinating.
“You’re wound so tight, Seraph. It’s not healthy.”
Before I can protest, he slides into the pool opposite me, his pale skin gleaming in the dim light. I press myself firmly against the far edge, creating as much distance as possible.
“Stay away from me,” I warn, though my voice lacks conviction as the herbs work their magic.
He ignores me.
The water sloshes as he moves closer, his knee brushing against mine beneath the surface. I try to shift away, but my back is already against the edge of the pool. The herbs have made my movements sluggish, my thoughts scattered.
“It doesn’t have to be difficult, you know?” he says. “Just say yes to the bond, and your mother goes free. Simple as that.”
“How will I know you’ll keep your promise?”
His fingers trace lazy patterns in the water between us. “Have I not kept my promise before? A deal is a deal, Seraph. I may be a monster, but I’m a monster of my word.”
I clench my jaw, fighting against the fog in my mind. “The sun is overrated.”
“I still want it,” he shrugs lazily, “and you’re my ticket to it.”
“Why?” I nearly yell. “What could possibly be so good about daywalking that you’d sacrifice your dignity for it?”
Cain doesn’t flinch at my accusation, his eyes instead taking on a distant quality, as if gazing beyond the stone walls to something I can’t see, water droplets sliding down his chest like tears.
“The sun,” he begins, his voice dropping to a reverent whisper, “is the great equalizer. It doesn’t care if you’ve lived a hundred years or are barely two days turned.” His hands rise from the water, fingers splayed as if trying to catch invisible rays. “It burns us all the same, reducing even the mightiest vampire to a corpse that remembers how to breathe only when the moon rises again.”
He moves through the water with ostentatious grace, each ripple an extension of his meticulous performance. I try to roll my eyes, but the herbs have made even that simple gesture difficult.
“Plenty of vampires have accepted that limitation,” I say.
“Because they lack imagination.” His hand brushes my shoulder, making me flinch away. “I could want you too, if you’d stop being so difficult. We could be magnificent together.”
An instinctive gag claws its way up, and I swallow hard to keep it down. “I’d rather die.”
He laughs, the sound deafeningly hollow. “Patience, darling. After I’m done with you. Although there’s no need to be dramatic. It’s just a little magical bond between acquaintances. Think of it as an arranged marriage, except instead of meeting the parents, you meet my fangs.”
He mimes a biting motion, bringing his mouth so close to my neck that I can feel his breath brush against my skin. I jerk back repulsively, the water rippling around us, but there’s nowhere to go.
In addition to the heat of his breath, his energy coils around me with hunger. Not the kind that craves blood, though that’s there too—the kind that’s heavier. Tighter. More carnal.
A tension beneath his skin, vibrating with anticipation.
I want to spit in his face, to scream. But all I can do is freeze, too aware of how easily this moment could tip into something irreversible.
“Right here,” he murmurs, stroking the spot with his thumb in a slow, deliberate motion, as if he’s savoring the moment. “One bite, and your blood sings in mine. I wonder…” His lips part, his fangs exposed, just shy of breaking skin. “Would you hate me more or less?”
I bite my tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but the way he looks at me, full of lust and desire, makes me falter.
Before I realize it, the words have slipped out, raw and unguarded. “As if more is even possible.”
