Page 18 of Wicked Curses
He was sure he’d get more than a few dirty looks from the cauldron-loving, spell casting crew, but none were brave enough to come at him head-on. They’d die if they challenged him to the pit, which was their only recourse; he’d make sure they knew it too.
“Let me go!” she spat.
He did no such thing. “Are you going to tell them?”
“Yes!”
He smiled sweetly as he relinquished her. She rubbed her wrist and gave him a scathing glance before turning away. Despite her attitude, she couldn’t hide the apprehension in her eyes before she did so.
He’d have to water her if her IQ were any lower, but he’d made his point. If she tried anything against Sahira, he’d kill her, and she knew it.
She’d also make sure the other witches and warlocks knew it too. If she tried to get all of them to attack him, it would be a battle, but he’d take them down.
Belda wouldn’t sit back and let it happen either. She ran this realm with a fair, iron fist and didn’t tolerate insubordination or a disregard for the laws.
Sahira entered the pub’s main area and glided between the tables toward an empty one in the back. Zeth sat at a table with a couple of lycans and a vamp. The demon didn’t notice her arrival, but Belda did.
Orin finished drying the last glass as Belda intercepted Sahira and led her to an empty table in the corner. They sat, and Belda pulled out the scroll Orin signed on his second day here.
The scroll contained the agreement to obey the rules of the realm. Broken laws were met with punishments, the worst of which was banishment.
With their heads bent close together, Sahira and Belda discussed the rules before Sahira signed the parchment. Belda promptly rolled it up, tucked it away, and pulled out the list of job openings.
He didn’t know which one Sahira chose, but she put her initials next to something on the parchment. She could change her mind if she hated it.
Belda tucked away the list, shook Sahira’s hand, and started to rise, but something Sahira said stopped the lycan. She remained half standing while they spoke and then gestured toward the bar.
Sahira’s eyes darted to him as a muscle ticked in her clenched jaw. Orin couldn’t contain his grin when he realized what they were discussing.
Sahira had just learned he’d already volunteered to be the one to feed her when she required blood. No one else would do it, and everyone knew vampires got a little excited while drinking.
His smile widened as he recalled that ass and those thighs. They were going to feel amazing beneath his hands.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Sahira struggledto keep her jaw from coming unhinged as Belda dropped a bomb on her. With red blurring her vision and teeth grinding together, she looked at Orin behind the bar, grinning at her.
That smug asshole knew what they were talking about. She wanted to smile back at him, to act like it didn’t bother her, but she was too irate to smile. If she smiled, she might scream, making it so much worse.
“There must be someone else,” Sahira said, tearing her attention away from the prick behind the bar. “Zeth said immortals volunteer for vampires to feed from them.”
“They do. But some immortals refuse to let it happen, such as the witches. And others feel it’s too intimate or that a vampire might take advantage of the situation and go too far.”
“I would never do that.”
“I’m not saying you would.” Belda glanced over her shoulder at Orin as he tossed a rag on the bar. “But many here aren’t willing to be a donor. Those who are have already been assigned to a vamp. Orin volunteered….” Sahira’s growing panic must have registered with Belda as the lycan sat again. “I know Orin can be difficult.”
“Difficult is an understatement. He’s doing this to manipulate me.”
“Probably, but he’s agreed to keep you alive. I can ask for other volunteers, but I doubt I’ll get any. This is something other immortals sign up for when they get their jobs. Orin is the only option, and he only agreed to feedyou.”
“Of course he did.”
Sahira fisted her hands on the table as she glared at the scarred, dark wood surface. If Belda started asking around, word would get back to Orin, and he’d find it hilarious to know she was trying not to feed from him.
But, of course, he already knew that and was enjoying watching her squirm. She could feel those black eyes boring into her now.
He believed her feeding from him would lead to something else, as it could be an erotic experience for vamps, but that wouldnothappen. It had been years since she fed from a pumping vein instead of a blood bag; it had been longer since she had sex, but she wouldn’t let bloodlust take her over.
