Page 34 of Bloodhunter

Miriam gasped and stepped back, her face paling. It shouldhave been gratifying to see her lose her composure, to show some fear, but itwasn’t. It was just frightening.

Angus gaped at Clayton. “What did you say?”

Clayton nodded. “He hit her with a dose large enough for tenpeople.” He gestured at me without actually looking at me. “Her entire…chestwas covered.”

Miriam walked to me and peered into my face. “How do youfeel now? It’s gone, I take it?”

“Mostly,” I said. “Except for…” I swallowed, then hurriedon. “Some lingering…um…heat.”

She and Angus traded glances. “I’ve never heard of someonerecovering so quickly from even a few drops,” she said.

Angus shook his head, then shrugged. “She’s strong. She’sdifferent.”

I pressed a hand to my poor abused chest, then went to siton the couch. “I don’t feel strong at the moment.”

Angus frowned down at me. “Come. You’ll see our doctor. Youneed to be checked out.”

“I’ll be okay. If I can go for a few nights without beingstabbed or bitten or bled, I’ll be okay.”

“Let us see the wound,” Miriam told me.

I sighed and pulled the edge of my robe away from the injury.“It’s healing. I need to rest, that’s all. I’ve lost a lot of blood.”

It truly did look better. It was swollen and discolored, redand purple and angry, but the ends were closing and it seeped only a little.Mostly, it was sore.

“The intruder splashed her with the foam and then stabbedher?” Miriam asked, skeptical.

“No,” Clayton replied. “The intruder didn’t stab her.”

“Then who gave her the wound?” Angus asked. He clenched hisfists and took a threatening step toward the other man.

When Clayton remained silent, Miriam slid close to him, ranher fingers up his arm, and whispered, “Answer him, you fuck.”

“Silverlight,” Clayton said. “Amias gave her the sword. Ittasted her.”

They gaped at him, then me, then him again.

“You lie,” Angus said.

“No,” Miriam disagreed. “He can’t lie to me.” She turned on me.“Silverlight, the sword.Youhave her.”

I slid my hand down to the pocket of my robe, to where theknife rested, half afraid they’d try to take her from me.

“It hasher,”Clayton said.

“The blade accepted her?” asked Angus, doubtfully. “A human?Or,” he added, studying me, “whatever she is.”

“Yes.” Clayton’s voice was steady and deep, but the pallorof his skin remained, and he still looked a little less than steady. “Completely.”

“You can ask me,” I said. “I’m right here. Amias wants meprotected. The sword will do that.”

The three of them stared at me, but only Angus’s face heldsomething more than curiosity. ”You’re softening toward the fucking vampire,”he accused.

I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t tell any of them whatI’d learned—that Amias asserted some sort of terrible control over me, that itcaused me enormous physical pain to hurt him, that I’d beenturned onbyhim.

That he was my master.

Oh God, no. The shame. The awful shame.