Calm down. Remember that vampires are as afraid of you as you are of them. The words of her therapist came back to her in a rush, easing her anxiety but only a little.
Riker didn’t strike her as being afraid in the least. But then, she’d dedicated her life to learning about vampire physiology, not psychology, so maybe she should trust what her therapist had said. Plant some doubt into him. Some fear. Then, maybe then, she could regain a measure of control.
And if worse came to worse, she had a weapon.
Clearing her throat, she shoved herself to her feet.
Riker rose with her, much more gracefully.
“I don’t think you know who I am.”
“Really.” He folded his thick arms across his chest.
“Enlighten me.”
She lifted her chin to look him directly in the eye.
“Since you broke into my house, you must know I’m a member of one of the most powerful families in the world.” His expression remained impassive, but she didn’t falter. Even before she’d taken over at Daedalus, she’d still been involved with the company, and she’d earned her stripes in boardrooms full of stone— faced executives and shark-eyed lawyers. “But you made a fatal mistake, because I’m also the CEO of
Daedalus Corporation. If the authorities aren’t aware that I’m gone already, they will be shortly, and I promise, very soon you’ll have the weight of every law enforcement agency on top of you. Not to mention
VAST and, most likely, every private bounty hunter my brother can hire.”
Riker might as well have yawned, he looked so bored. “I’m shaking in my human-skin boots.”
Son of a—Had he just said human-skin? She looked down at his brown leather work boots. “Are those really . . .” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Made of the soft, supple skin of a human orphan
I stole from the loving arms of a caregiver?” When she nodded, he laughed. “The fact that you believe we’re such monsters says a lot about you.”
Right. Because the fact that he and his friend broke into her house, murdered her colleague, and kidnapped her didn’t lend any credence to the monster thing. “So prove me wrong. Let me go.”
“After you arrange for Neriya’s release.”
“Call me skeptical, but I somehow doubt you’ll just let me go my own way.” Casually, she rubbed her ruby ring against her thigh, taking comfort in its weight . . . and in the weapon concealed inside. “And I swear to you, I won’t go down easy.”
His gaze dropped to her neck. Automatically, she reached up, as if covering her throat would prevent him from sinking his teeth into it. “Maybe I like a challenge,” he drawled.
“Let me have one of those knives strapped to your chest, and I’ll show you a challenge.”
The light of battle flared in his eyes, and a sinister smile curved his lips. “Do your best, human.” He whipped a dagger from a sheath and pressed it into her palm. “This should be fun.”
“Fun?” Shaky legs barely supported her as she backed away from him. “I don’t stand a chance against you.”
“Then why did you ask for the knife?”
With a macabre sense of satisfaction, she put it to her throat, to the scarred skin where Boris had chewed through her flesh. “Because I’d rather die than let any one of you touch me.”
As true as that was, driving a blade into her own jugular was a last resort. She’d simply needed the dagger so she’d have a weapon against other vampires after she took him down.
The amusement fell off his face, and he barked out a nasty curse. “Don’t. Don’t do that.”
“Why not? You’re going to kill me anyway, right?”
She would not die at the hands of a vampire. They’d tried to kill her once; they wouldn’t succeed the second time.
Riker held out his hand. “Give me the knife. Now.”
Again, he hadn’t answered her question. Again, she made a suggestion for a vacation spot. “Go to hell.”
“I can take it away before you can blink, female.”
She pressed inward, until the sting of the blade let her know she’d broken skin. A warm drop of blood rolled down her neck, but oddly, the lingering pinch energized her. For the first time since she’d been grabbed, she had a measure of control, even if the control was merely over her own pain.
Or her own life.
Riker’s body went taut, a subtle sign she comprehended too late. Then he was there, fist around the blade. Startled, she jerked, driving the tip of the knife deeper into her throat. “You stupid human!”
With a snarl, Riker wrenched the knife away and shoved her against the wall. The blade clattered to the ground, but the fangs jutting from Riker’s gums were just as sharp and probably far more lethal.