When she slipped her hands under the girl’s armpits and knelt to get a better grip on her before hoisting her up, Lilac jolted in shock; in the poorly lit hall, she hadn’t seen the pool of blood beneath her—also spreading warmly now onto her own front. She shrieked, unable to help it.
Hehadn’tdrained her blood. This girl was still alive, bleeding to death before her eyes.
Lilac stumbled back. Blood spurted from the puncture wounds from Garin’s teeth on the girl’s throat as she coughed, attempting to speak. Lilac moved, intending to grab the cloth from the saucer she’d placed at her side and press it to her neck, but in her agony, the woman writhed free, looking panickedly at Lilac, then up at her friends—herfriends, who, in theirdesperate state, had sacrificed her to Garin. Now, she knew, it was in hopes he might then have had enough restraint to sleep with them without killing them.
Elona and Nellie were backed against the wall, their expressions wrenched in horror.
Lilac’s will finally broke, and she had no other choice but to look up at him. Garin gazed down upon her coldly, bracing himself against the darkened doorway. His mouth, and even part of his nose, were smeared thickly in a deep red he hadn’t bothered wiping off.
Did he know?Surely he recognized her? Did he look upon her with such disdain now because he couldn’t smell her beneath his victim’s blood and her layers of new perfume? Was it an act, like it had been several times before? Her face burned as she imagined his distant, exasperated demeanor in The Fenfoss Inn, as he asked—commanded—her to leave out of concern.
This was nothing like that. It was distant and foreboding.
She gritted her teeth and moved to hoist the woman up again, whom he roughly snatched by the arm. The girl had stopped fighting.
“Begentle,” she snarled softly as Garin lifted the girl from her. Lilac wanted to try to stop the bleeding with her cloth now that the woman had stopped moving, but with the way her eyes were glassy, rolling, and half-lidded, she could tell she was past any help she could offer.
Garin held her limp form out to the two others, who shrank away. His nostrils flared, his voice low and on the verge of impatience. “Take her.”
“Y-you—” Nellie stammered, leaning away as Elona reluctantly accepted her from Garin, lip curled in disgust and stumbling under her weight.
“I what? Killed her?” Garin barked a laugh as they flinched. “It appears her heart is on the verge of stopping inyourarms, is it not?”
“There is a warlock here,” Lilac interjected, tearing her eyes away from him with effort. “Somewhere downstairs, in the crowd. Gold hair, young, deep blue robes. Go find him; he’ll help her.”
Surprisingly, Elona sucked her teeth as if she’d forgotten Lilac entirely. “Why? So that you can have him all to yourself?”
Jaw slacked, she slowly backed away. What kind of terrible magic was in that Dragondew Mead—in the sea holly or in the bees? No naturally occurringaphrodisiac would make someone offer a friend, or even a stranger, to a vampire just for a chance at bedding him.
She’d done her job in offering. Lilac shook her head and tried to wipe the woman’s blood off her hands, but it was fruitless with all of it smeared on her front and down her arms. When she looked up, Garin was studying her, shadows from the flames framing his sharp profile. He ran his tongue across his lower lip, sweeping a lone curl off his forehead and smearing it in blood; in the heat and sweat, her heavy heartbeat pulsed in time with her core—for she’d had the mead, too.
Suddenly, she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t kill to fuck him, either.
“You didn’t even eat her,” Elona muttered as they dragged their friend toward the stairs.
He said nothing, folding his arms and watching them leave. When he turned back to Lilac, his glare faltered. He looked tired. “That’s because she wasn’t to my taste.”
Unable to help herself, embarrassed by the enthusiasm her racing heart made it impossible to conceal, Lilac crossed the dim hall and bent to recover the saucer and covered chalice atop it. When she stood, Garin was already gone and the door was creaking shut.
15
“Was that necessary?” Lilac stuck the toe of her shoe into the door and shouldered her way in, letting it fall shut behind her.
The room was spacious, draped in gold and maroon linens she could tell were worn and not dusted in months at least—but in contrast with The Fenfoss Inn, it was near luxury. There was a red settee centered before a crackling fire and Garin braced himself against the back of it, facing the hearth on the right hand wall.
He wore a loose cream linen shirt that had been untucked from his trousers. His shoulders were relaxed, but the veins on his hands were visible as they gripped the frame of the chair.
The room was sweltering, or it at least felt like it. She craned her neck, looking around for a window. There was one opposite the fireplace, covered in drapes on a door that appeared to lead onto a balcony. Then, there was the four poster bed, an armoire, and a closet.
“You’re lecturingmeon morality? They were the ones who brought me their friend to eat just so I was satiated enough to bed them.”
“And were you?” she asked quietly.
He either didn’t hear her or chose to ignore her question. Without a glance in her direction, he reached for something dark that sat on thebedside table between the settee and the bed. Before she realized it was the slim neck of a decanter, Garin had filled the stout glass beside it and tipped it back against his mouth.
He hesitated after emptying it in a couple swallows, picking up the decanter and studying the bottle. Then, he placed the glass down and took another long swig straight from the decanter. A strangled sound escaped Lilac’s mouth, but the warning died on her lips.
“You should leave,” he said simply, his glance toward her fleeting before making his way to the front of the settee and taking a seat. When she said nothing and just stood there, he leaned into the lush back of the chair, settling in. “Well?”
