“Who said we were desperate?” Laylen crosses his arms and maintains Draven’s gaze.
Draven motions around at the room. “Look where you are. You’d have to be desperate to be here.”
Laylen glances around at the Vampires circling the table. They’re no longer playing poker; their cards have been laid down as they watch. “Would it be okay if we spoke in private?”
Draven considers Laylen’s request then calls over his shoulder, “Gentlemen, could you excuse us for a moment? It seems we have to discuss something of a serious nature, privately.” There’s humor in his voice, which makes it obvious that he’s enjoying creating our feelings of uneasiness.
The Vampires get up from their chairs without arguing and file out of the room with the women beside them. After everyone’s gone, Draven signals at us to have a seat at the table. We silently obey, either out of fear or the need for answers, and sit down beside each other. Draven sits in a chair across from us and the woman crouches beside him with her head hung low, her veil of auburn hair shielding her face.
Draven rolls up his sleeves, deliberately watching us. I notice that he has the Mark of Immortality on one forearm and on the other arm there’s a bizarre looking set of triangles overlapping each other in black and red. Once he’s finished, he relaxes back in the chair and studies us closely. “So who’s this person you need to find and what makes her so important to you?”
Laylen peeks at me from the corner of his eye. “Her name is Jocelyn... Lucas.”
My breath hitches in my throat at the sound of my mom’s name and Laylen snatches hold of my hand from under the table, giving it a comforting squeeze.
“Jocelyn Lucas,” Draven ponders. “The Keeper Jocelyn Lucas?”
Laylen warily nods. “Yes, that’s the one. Do you know her?”
“Know is a strong word… more like I’ve heard of her.” A sinister shadow casts across Draven’s face as he yanks on the chain, jerking the woman’s head onto his lap.
I swallow hard, wondering just how tricky it’s going to be to get him to give us the information we need. Laylen said it was going to be dangerous and I’m starting to understand why. There’s something in Draven eyes, a darkness that unsettles every bone in my body.
Laylen shoves aside some poker chips and cards to rest his arms on the table. “So do you know if she’s still alive?”
“I do… However…” Draven trails off, looking right at me as he licks his lips and then his fangs point out from his mouth. “This Jocelyn, I’m guessing she’s very important to you?”
I nod. “She is.”
He loops the chain around his wrist, making a spiral up his forearm and the woman is forced to comply with the movement, her head elevating toward his mouth. “Tell me, what would you be willing to give up to find out if she is alive or not?”
I glance at Laylen for help, but his eyes are fixated on Draven as he slips his fingers around the woman’s leather collar and draws her neck toward his chin.
“I don’t know…” Laylen drifts off, biting at his lip ring, his blue eyes blackening.
Draven grins, aiming his fangs out as he sweeps the woman’s hair to the side. “If you want, Laylen, I’d be more than happy to share.” With a final grin, he deliberately dips his fangs into the woman’s neck.
She gasps as his fangs enter her skin and then clutches onto Draven’s legs. Draven’s neck muscles work to devour the blood out and her eyes widen before flicking to me. For a second I see life inside her, but it quickly vanishes the longer Draven continues to feed. Blood drizzles down her neckline and the collar of her dress, staining the silky blue fabric a deep red. She moans in pleasure and then whimpers when it’s too much to handle, her eyes dazing off as she arrives at a state of contentment. I wonder what it feels like? What kind of sensations run through the body to make someone look that way?
Laylen licks his lips and I feel his weight shift, like he’s about to stand up, his fingers burrowing into my wrist. I wrench my hand away from his hold and slam it down on top of his leg, holding him in place.
He winces and his gaze shoots in my direction. He doesn’t even look like Laylen anymore, only a shadow of him that’s full of hunger.
“What do you want?” I ask Draven, my voice unsteady as I grasp onto Laylen’s leg.
With blood on his lips, he frees the woman from his teeth and shoves her to the floor. She falls on her knees, her head low, blood rivering down her neck and dress as it pools on the floor. Draven wipes his mouth with his fingertips, licking the blood off each one.