He unbuttons the top button of his shirt, tugging it down a little, the fabric stained with blood. Then he reaches for a cigar box in the middle of a table next to a stack of poker chips. He lifts the lid off, takes out a cigar, and lights the end, putting it into his mouth and inhaling deeply.
“I want one very simple thing in exchange for me using my lovely gift to peek in on the Fey of The Underworld.” He takes another drag of the cigar and greyish smoke fills up the room.
Laylen tears his gaze from the woman bleeding on the floor and focuses on Draven, gripping onto my hand. “And what is it?” he asks.
Draven puffs on the cigar several times, remaining silent, then finally he balances it on an ashtray, the smoke still rising off the end. He crosses his arms on the table and cocks his head to the side. “I want you to feed on the girl.”
Laylen quickly looks at the woman on the floor. “I don’t think she can take anymore feeding without me… killing her.”
He shakes his head. “Not on her.” His attention targets on me. “Her.”
“What?” I cry at the same time Laylen snaps, “No fucking way.”
He laughs and it’s deafening echoes ricochet around the room. The woman beside him quivers and falls flat on her stomach, her head resting near Draven’s feet. “Then no deal.”
Laylen’s livid as he slants forward about to say who knows what, but I interrupt him.
“How do we know that you know anything at all?” I ask and feel Laylen go rigid beside me.
His lips part and I half expect him to shout at me to shut the hell up, but surprisingly he stays quiet.
Draven’s fingers seek the cigar in the ashtray. “When the Lord of the Afterlife makes a deal, the deal is unbreakable. Those are the rules.” He places the butt of the cigar into his mouth and inhales.
Laylen tips his head to the side, encountering my gaze. There’s an exchange between us, an agreement, like we’re asking each other what to do.
Laylen leans in toward me, keeping his voice hushed. “It’s addicting.”
Breathe in. Breathe out. “I know… if you don’t think you can do it, that’s okay… I’ll understand.”
“Not just addicting for me… I’ll always crave no matter what,” he clarifies. “But it’s also addicting for you, too.”
My forehead creases. “I’ll become addicted?”
“You could and then you would most likely end up at a place just like this.” He gives a fleeting glance to the woman on the floor. “Doing whatever just to feel the sensations the bite brings.”
Sensations? “But Aislin got bit and she’s fine.”
“Fine… but not great.” He contemplates. “Besides, Aislin is a Keeper and a Witch. She’s stronger in the sense of control and what she can’t do of her own freewill, she casts a spell for.”
I swallow hard. “I can be strong.” My weak voice contradicts my words, though.
He gives me a heart-wrenching look and then cups my cheek, leveling our gazes. “But your emotions are so new... I’m worried it might be even harder for you.”
“Is this the best way to find out if my mom’s alive?” I ask, refusing to give up so easily.
He strokes my cheek. “It is… but we can try to find another way.”
I press my lips together, deciding, but ultimately, it’s not even a choice. My whole life, I’ve had no one. It’s merely been myself, yet it was only a shell of myself. I want more. I want my mom. I want to know where I came from and feel like someone cares about me. I don’t want to walk around this world feeling so unloved. I also want to understand love.#p#分页标题#e#
“Do it,” I utter. “I want you to bite me.” I actually mean what I say, too. Maybe it’s because of my mom, out of curiosity, or maybe this is just the kind of person that I am—one who welcomes intoxicating, dangerous things.
Draven claps his hands and Laylen jerks away from me, rotating forward in the chair so he’s facing Draven.
“Very well played,” he says as he claps his hands again, puffing on the cigar. “Give him the sad eyes and show him your heartache.” He pauses, assessing us as a cloud of smoke envelops his face. “Although, I might say that they’re extremely lovely eyes so it’s not quite fair on Laylen’s part. They’re so intoxicating... Violet is such a unique color. You don’t see it that often, except for on Pixies and sometimes Fey.” He ashes the cigar, tapping it on the side of the glass ashtray.
“She’s neither,” Laylen hurries and says. “And will you please just get on with it.”