The Warrior Vampire(18)

Ronan’s gaze settled on the dagger still pressed to his chest. “I’d be more cooperative if you considered sheathing your weapon.” A rumble built in his throat and Naya cocked a questioning brow. He raised his eyes, gorgeous green gems rimmed with silver, to hers. “I don’t respond well to threats.”

“This isn’t a threat,” she assured him. The dagger dug itself deeper and Naya resisted the tug. Like the blade in her hand, some unseen force drew her to Ronan, urged her closer. “If I don’t get some answers, soon, I’m going to run this blade straight through your heart. Understand?”

His gaze lit with fire, and a sardonic smirk accented his full lips. Cocky bastard. “For another go at your vein, I’d risk the blade.”

Gods. They could go on like this for hours. Naya had a sinking suspicion that the vampire’s stubbornness would equal her own and they’d be stuck like this, the tip of her blade embedded in his skin while he worked his overconfident charm. At this rate, she wasn’t going to get any of her questions answered. But neither was she willing to let her guard down.

“I’ll make you a deal. You lower the dagger, I’ll behave myself. I give you my word. We’ll sit. I’ll answer your questions to the best of my memory.”

She cocked her head to the side as if contemplating his angle. His mouth hitched in a half smile that caused Naya’s stomach to do a backflip. It was almost as though he liked that she was suspicious of him. “You can sit. But not in here.” Naya jerked her head toward the door. “The living room.”

Ronan pushed himself away from the wall and she reacted, pressing the point of the dagger against his chest. His lips twitched again. “I like that you’re feisty, but that doesn’t mean I appreciate having that damned knife anywhere on my body.” He raised his hands as if in surrender and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Naya mirrored his actions, ready to defend herself if he decided to attack. “I’m not planning anything, so cut me a little slack here. It’ll be safer for both of us if you keep that blade at a respectable distance. Okay?”

His eyes grew serious as she assessed him. “And why’s that? Thinking of going for my jugular next time, vampire?”

Ronan swept his hand toward the door in invitation. Cocky and high-handed. “Living room. Sit. Then we’ll talk.”

“Right,” Naya scoffed. “Like I’m going to treat you as if you’re nothing more than a docile kitten. No way are you dictating what happens here. You’re my prisoner and I’m in charge. We do this my way. Got it?”

“You can cuff me if you want,” he suggested as he followed her gaze toward the floor and the chains discarded there. “I won’t fight you.”

“All right,” she said slowly. “Turn around, face the wall, and put your hands behind your back.”

Naya backed away from Ronan, the dagger held in a defensive position. This had turned out to be one gut punch of a day. First the elders had smacked her with that insane mandate, and now a dangerous vampire was loose in her apartment. What could possibly happen next? Don’t answer that. She approached the bed, her dagger trained on Ronan’s chest.

“I said, turn around and face the wall.” She wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. He cocked a brow, a corner of his mouth teasing at a half smile. She flicked the dagger at him to urge him on and he sighed. “I usually stab first and ask questions later, so be thankful that I’m in a charitable mood today.”

“This is charitable?” Ronan asked, that damn half smile returning to his face. His moss green eyes sparkled with a mischievous light and Naya couldn’t help but admire the chiseled features of his handsome face and the way his tawny hair fell across his brow, almost brushing his long lashes. “I’d hate to see you when you aren’t feeling so generous.” He held his arms up again in compliance and turned toward the wall. He braced his legs apart and put his hands behind his back, palms facing outward. Apparently he wasn’t a stranger to the command “assume the position.” Figured. Naya had known from the moment she’d laid eyes on him that he was trouble.

Magnificent. But still trouble.

When she felt confident enough that she’d have the upper hand in the event he went back on his word and decided to attack, Naya slid the dagger into its sheath and retrieved the chains and cuffs from the floor. The incantation she’d used to reinforce the headboard had been a simple one and it took almost no concentration at all to release the spell, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t surprised as hell at the havoc Ronan has wreaked to release himself. The sturdy metal frame looked as though it was made of nothing more than flimsy wire, bent and curled backward until the slats of the headboard looked like a jagged metal crown.