She told him, “Well, I don’t know how you do it. They scare me to death. I haven’t been able to rest at all with them snarling and clawing at me between the bars. Can you leave the gate closed when you go?”
He finished collecting the gear in a pack and hoisted it onto his shoulder, picked up the camping lantern, then turned to her. “I’m supposed to let them loose in here while I’m gone, but it’s not like you can break out of your cell anyway.”
Quickly she switched her melting look into a more helpless expression as she shook her head. “No, I can’t, can I?”
He tilted his head and jerked his chin toward the direction Justine had disappeared. “I’ll lock the gate so they won’t bother you too much.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, holding out a hand toward him – again, not too much, just a brief flutter of fingers before she dropped them again.
Vampyre Guy took a step toward her. She didn’t think he was even aware of doing it. “So, I guess I’m out of the habit of buying food. Is there anything you want?”
Oh for crying out loud, now she had to go and wonder…
Is he one of Justine’s victims too, or an asshole? Or is he a victim who also happened to be an asshole? Or am I starting to suffer from a dose of Stockholm Syndrome?
The dial on her people-reading meter hovered somewhere in the uncertain zone.
“I’d kill for a chicken sandwich,” she said, giving him a small smile. “And some cheese and fruit, please. Maybe some granola? Oh, and just so you know – I didn’t mean to put down the candy you brought. The chocolate bars were really terrific. They just aren’t enough sustenance.”
Her sharp gaze picked up how he straightened under the praise.
“I can pick up more chocolate,” he said. “It’ll be a little while before I can get back. Not only do I have to go to the store, but I have to hunt down some people to throw to the wolves to keep them occupied while I come back down here.”
The utter lack of remorse or any true feeling with which Vampyre Guy said it sent her dial swinging deeply into the red. Victim or not, he was an asshole. She lost all compunction for manipulating and/or staking him if the situation called for it.
Instantly, she clamped down on her self-control and kept her expression soft and sweet.
Possibly even, dare she say it, a touch poodle-like.
“I appreciate you telling me,” she told him. “Be careful.”
He swaggered a little. “No problem. I got it covered.”
Melly’s thoughts raced. Maybe she had accomplished enough in one conversation, and maybe anything else would be pushing too far, but —
Her gaze flicked to Julian. He was still so silent as he hung limp in his chains.
They were in a hot mess. Not only that, it felt deeply unstable, like their situation might change on a whim. On her next visit, Justine might decide it wasn’t worth keeping either Melly or Julian alive, and she might kill them both.
So now was the time to push, even if Melly went too far, because they had nothing left to lose and potentially everything to gain.
And while Justine might not want anything more than Melly locked up and Julian in chains, it was possible that Vampyre Guy might want any other number of things a lot more than his current situation.
Immunity from prosecution. Money. An easy life.
Freedom from Justine?
“What’s your name?” she asked Vampyre Guy.
His eyes narrowed. “Why?”
Lifting one corner of her mouth in a lopsided smile, she told him, “Because I don’t want to keep calling you Vampyre Guy.”
He paused to search her face. “Anthony.”
“Anthony,” she said. “Okay listen, Anthony. You don’t have a choice when your sire gives you a direct order, and I just want you to know, I don’t hold any of this against you. In fact, I think that’s even a viable legal defense, at least here in California, isn’t it?”
Going still, he watched her with hooded eyes and an impassive expression. “What’s your point?”
Melly raised an eyebrow. “I understand you have to do what you need to in order to survive, but while you’re running errands, you might want to think about something. Did Justine ever give you a direct order to never call the Light Fae Queen? The fabulously rich, powerful Light Fae Queen, who would be incredibly grateful for any tips leading to the rescue of her daughter?”
Anthony’s lip curled. “You think I would risk my life like that?”
While he tried to sound scoffing, Melly’s people-reading meter said he ended up sounding uncertain instead.
“You have a rare opportunity right now,” she told him. “Not many people get a chance like this in their lifetime. You could ask for anything, and my mom would gladly give it to you. The sky is the limit. One quick phone call from you, and this could all be over in a matter of hours. She could protect you from Justine, give you legal immunity and make you rich.”