“You know the rules.” Kameron draws the hoodie off his head. His hair is black like the night sky and there’s a scar running diagonally on the side of it. “I can’t let a Black Angel in here. Only Vampires and humans.”
“She is human,” Laylen breathes through gritted teeth, slanting in toward Kameron. “Now open the door.”
Kameron stands upright, trying to stand taller than Laylen, but he lacks the height. “She looks like one, though.”
Laylen backs up with his arms expanded out to the side of him. “But she’s not and, if you’d look harder, you’d realize it.”
Humor dances in Kameron’s eyes. He’s toying with us and completely enjoying it. “Prove it. Make her bleed. Black Angels won’t bleed.”
I wince at the mention of blood and immediately recoil. “What?”
Laylen looks over his shoulder and the fire in his eyes makes me cower back even more. For a second I think he’s going to attack me, but then he blinks and the Laylen I know reappears. He turns back to Kameron. “No fucking way,” he growls.
“Then you’re not getting in,” he replies and starts to close the door again, about to slam my opportunity to find out about my mom away.
I peel back the bandage on my wrist and stride forward showing him my fresh wound. “Look, it’s almost still bleeding.”
He shakes his head. “I want to see your body dripping out blood.”
My expression falls. “That’s not fair.”
“Life’s not fair.” Kameron pauses with an impish smile on his lips and I can tell he’s just messing with our heads. “I want to see Laylen bite you.”
Laylen and mine’s jaws drop. “No way,” Laylen says, seeming horrified. “I can’t.”
Kameron opens his mouth, showing me his set of teeth, white, glinting, fangs fully in view. “Vampires feed on blood, Laylen. That’s what we were made to do.”
“No way,” Laylen repeats simply. “I won’t do it.”
“Then I’ll do it.” Kameron’s eyes fix on me. “Trust me, if you let me sink my fangs into,” he inhales deeply, his nostrils flaring, “that delicious looking skin of yours, I swear you’ll be begging me to never stop.”
On the inside I squirm, but on the outside I’m surprisingly composed. “At first, you said that I need to bleed, not let you feed on me, so give me a damn knife and I’ll show you I have blood in me, even though I’m pretty sure you already know that.”
I expect him to get angry, but instead he cocks his eyebrows. “You know, I really didn’t believe you were one, but the cockiness and boldness coming out of you right now is making me second guess my original assumption.” Kameron starts to slowly shut the door again. “Now bite or no deal.”
I almost hiss at him and snap my teeth. I have no idea where my emotions are coming from at the moment. Whether it’s from the disturbing environment, or if Laylen’s manipulating my emotions. I turn to Laylen and tip my chin to meet his eyes.
I’m trying not to get angry, but the idea of punching Kameron in the face right now is really appealing. He’s the one thing getting in my way of perhaps learning something about my mother’s whereabouts.
“Bite me,” I tell Laylen and his eyes nearly pop out of his head. Before he can argue, I add, “Just scuff my skin with your teeth. You don’t have to drink any of my blood, just spill some out.”
“Now that’s not fun.” Kameron pouts as he crosses his arms and leans against the doorway. “I want to see a show.”
I glare at him. Sick, twisted, pervert.
“It’s not for fun,” Laylen says, and my attention returns to him. His eyes locked on me and his brows are furrowed. “It’s only so you have to let us in.”
Kameron rolls his eyes. “Fine. Scrape your teeth against her and prove that she’s a mere mortal... so fucking boring.”
Laylen’s lip twitches as he stares down at me. His body spasms as he struggles to keep his expression tranquil and I wonder what I’m getting into; how dangerous will this really be? Will he lose control? Drink my blood? Kill me? Do I care?
I stick my trembling arm toward him and his gaze instantly snaps down to it, zoning in on my wrist. In the moonlight, my skin looks white and the bluish purple vein below it is visible.
Laylen’s long, cold fingers curl around my wrist and he wets his lips with his tongue. Then he lowers his mouth to my arm and my heart slams inside my chest as his lips part, his neck muscles tensing as a pair of fangs descend from his gum line. He lets out a growl that makes my heart leap and then a groan that makes my stomach somersault. I try to hold as still as I can, but a flurry of emotions—some dark, some fearful, some needy—whisk through me as I watch his mouth brush my wrist.