“That’s because you’re not trying,” she snaps. She pushes from the wall and starts toward us, only to stop when Sebastian lifts a hand.
He closes the distance between us, studying my face.
“You were distracted,” he says.
“I’mexhausted,” I correct.
“Distracted,” he repeats. Then, his mouth slants in a devious smirk. He lifts an eyebrow in challenge. “What were you thinking about Grace?”
“The same thing I’ve been thinking about since we got here,” I say adamantly, but my heart races all the same. I don’t think vampires can read minds. No, they can’t. I wouldhave realized by now. I swallow, clenching my teeth. “I’m trying to keep your ass on the floor, but it’s not working.”
“Careful, Gracie,” Cora calls out. “Master will rip your pretty little head off if you talk like that.”
“I won’t. And you won’t speak another word of it,” Sebastian says. He turns toward Cora, posture stiff. I wait for him to threatenherhead, just as he did to Beatrice, but he only says, “You’re dismissed, Cora. We’ll meet again tomorrow.”
Her large dark eyes bounce from Sebastian, to me, then back to Sebastian. Her lips part, as if to say something, only for her to decide better. She bows her head and exits the room without another word.
“It doesn’t bother me,” I tell him once she’s gone. When Sebastian’s eyes meet mine, I elaborate. “The threats. I know you guys can’t kill me yet.”
“We are not going to kill you. Ever.”
The intensity of his voice flips my stomach, and I try desperately to stay in reality. He’s playing me. I’m being played. It’s not true.
“And it does bother you. Your heart raced when she said it,” he says. He smiles again, giving me an almost coy look. “I’m quite observant, you see. I notice when things change. Sights. Sounds.Smells.”
“What are you saying?” I ask. It’s the most I can say, because if he’s implying what I think he is, I’m going to throw myself off the nearest cliff.
Another grin.
“Your heart is racing again,” he says. He steps closer, hands tucked into his pockets. He’s the picture of nonchalance. With a teasing wink, he adds, “I wonder why.”
“Sebastian,” I say, unable to keep the horror from my voice.
“You smell fucking perfect,” he says. The amusementdrains from his face, replaced with something unreadable. “Truly, Grace. You have no idea how much I’d like to spread you across this floor and taste where you’re yearning for me.”
Anguish, I decide. That’s a look of anguish on his face, as if he’s disgusted by me, the fact I’m wet for him, the fact he’d like to taste it.
“Who says it’s for you?” I snap.
“Fair enough.” His jaw muscle ticks, eyes hardening as he looks at me. “I like to imagine it anyway.”
“I’m sure you do,” I say. My face must be bright red, and I blink to keep the tears from falling.
I’m pathetic. The fact I can even get turned on by someone like him is humiliating enough, but now he’s bringing it up? Shoving it in my face, ensuring I know he sees right through me?”
“Grace,” he says, just as I choke through a sob. “Hells, I wasn’t?—”
“Of course you were,” I snap. “This must be so entertaining for you! Such a good ego boost, as if you need one. You’re holding me prisoner, locked up and kept while I’m useful. I know you’re going to kill me, Sebastian. I should hate you. Idohate you, and yet, here I am, getting wet just looking at you. Makes you feel good, doesn’t it? Doesn’t it!”
I’m screaming by the end. I don’t realize it until I’ve stopped and a deafening silence surrounds us. My throat burns as tears stream down my face.
Oh god, as if my nonexistent magic wasn’t enough reason for him to kill me.
Sebastian’s jaw is still clenched, the muscle there twitching as he steps closer. Both hands find my face, thumbs resting on my cheekbones. I might be imagining it, but it almost feels like his hands are shaking.
“No,” he whispers finally. “No, it doesn’t make me feel good.”
I don’t say anything. I’m still heaving, struggling to get my breath under control.
