Devoured Destiny (Completed, but being rewritten and edited.)

Thought Thirteen.- Interrogation Time.

           'A man may surely be allowed to take a glass of wine by his own fireside. '

                                                              -Richard Brinsley Sheridan

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"Wine?" Jones offers me a glass, already poured. 

We had fought for a little after Sibbul had left.

Of course we had fought. 

I don't care if him and the faerie had a deal, and she broke it, or if she deserves to be chained to a cave ceiling, it's just not right.

I will come up with a way to get her out of here. 

We are now in the 'living room' area, which consists of a velvet red rug covering up the hard and cold cave floor, some large pillows, which act as chairs. And a massive fireplace, which Sibbul had ignited for us. We sit on our pillow chairs, and stare into the fire. Jones sits about a foot away from me. 

After what had happened earlier, the way I saw how he had treated Sibbul, I don't even want to be in such a close proximity to him. But of course, what choice do I have? 

If I act smug, and distant, he's not going to want to tell me anything that I need to know. And there is a lot that I need to know. 

Hmm...can vampires get drunk? Maybe I can make him drink so much wine...

That surely won't work.

I will just play nice, for now. 

I look at Jones, who is still holding the glass of wine out to me. 

"Sure. I am a little thirsty." Retrieving the glass, I bring it up to my nose and sniff. 

Guh. 

I've never been a huge drinker. In the movies, they always smell their wine before they take a sip. 

Why do they do that?

Smells horrible.

I take a sip anyways, I'm not giving Jones something to make fun of me for. And I surely don't want him to know that I don't have a lot of experience; when it comes to drinking. Taking a big gulp, I swish it around in my mouth a little. It's not too bad. I mean, it wouldn't be my drink of choice, but I can handle it. 

"So, my gem. What shall we do tonight?" His voice is husky, it makes me want to throw all logic and sense out the window. 

If there were any windows. 

"Well, we can talk." I take another gulp of my wine. 

"We can... I have a feeling that you know exactly what you want to talk about. Am I right?" He wears his sideways grin, his eyebrows arched. 

Oh, yes I do.

"I need to know some things, Jones. There are so many unanswered questions that I have, and I need to know the answers before I go back to Neven." 

"Neven." He hisses, almost too low for me to hear. "He won't tell you anything?"

I shake my head, "No, he pretty much refuses to." 

I take another gulp. 

Jones looks at my glass, and grabs the bottle of wine that sits on the ground in-between our pillows. He refills my glass.