Blood Lust

Chapter 23

Steam filled the bathroom and swirled around her body. She still couldn't figure out how there was even running water in this weird realm of darkness. Did it matter? She could shower and brush her teeth... she found her hairbrush among the items Cyrille had brought from her apartment and worked through the rat's nest as best she could with only one arm.

Kate looked down at the stump. She'd been down here for weeks. Long enough that her head was clear for the first time in years. That should have been long enough for her arm to grow back. Which meant she had no magic left.

That would explain the hunger. It would also explain the unbearably intense fantasies. It wasn't like last time, where she was so desperate, she would have fucked anyone or anything that moved. Instead, they were focused entirely on Cyrille now. Only Cyrille. At least this time, she was able to stop herself from calling his fucking name.

Fucking demon deals. It had to be because of that. He didn't have her name, but all he needed to do was ask. She wouldn't be able to resist. She had no one to blame but herself. This was all because she couldn't keep her mouth shut about Danika.

Throwing the hairbrush into the sink, she stormed back out to the bedroom, half-destroyed from her rages. Her eyes went for the backpack on the chair, and she stopped in her tracks. Cyrille or Celeste must have gone back to her apartment. There was no way... it was too easy...

"Katalin," His voice made her jump, and she looked wildly around. Cyrille stood at the door looking perfect as he always did, a look of pure relief on his face. "You're awake."

"Joy of joys," she scowled and backed up to stand in the bathroom door again.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fan-fucking-tastic."

His eyes hardened, looking more like himself. "The hostility is not necessary," he growled, walking towards her. "How are you feeling?"

Her heart thumped hard, and she clenched her jaw shut tight as his power over the bond urged her to answer him. "You got what you wanted," she said slowly, fighting against his command. "I'm clean."

"You are sober," he corrected, closing the distance between them and taking her wrist. He held her tight and ran his thumb across the line of scars at the inside of her arm. "You are far from clean."

Kate chewed the inside of her cheek and glared at his hands. The moment he made contact with her, the tension in her body coiled. She ached and burned for more. For his arms to be around her waist and his lips on hers. His hips thrusting into hers. She was so damn hungry, and he... he could fix it. He could make it better.

Swallowing hard, she tugged at her arm. His grip only tightened, holding her still. "So," she asked, chewing on her bottom lip. "What happens now?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he continued to look at her arm, considering how to respond. He had so many questions. There were so many things he needed her to tell him. But he wasn't sure if she even remembered her hallucinations, especially the last one. Besides, that anger was back. If there was one thing he had learned about her, it was not to push when she was already pissed.

"Let's start with getting you dressed. As much as I enjoy you wearing my clothes... or not wearing clothes at all," he winked, plucking at the t-shirt that she was still wearing, and heat flooded her face. "I want to show you something."

The hairs on the back of her neck rose. "What is it?" she asked warily.

He raised a hand to her cheek and hesitated when she flinched. "Relax," he whispered power through the bond. Her eyes fluttered again, and a low hiss came from her throat. He chuckled. "You were so eager to give yourself to me. Why are you fighting me now?"