Page 39 of Bite Me

“What’s happening right now?” I ask.

“Don’t worry. It’s temporary.”

I’m about to ask why Dacre is talking to me in my freaking head when cold liquid runs down my scalp and onto my back. A pool of red gathers around me on the floor.

Is that blood? Is that my blood?

The smell of wine floods my senses.

Verity snickers while she holds the wine bottle over my head. “Oops.”

The table erupts into laughter again, and my stomach sours. Maybe there’s a first time for everything, and someone pouring wine over my head and laughing in my face is a first for me.

I don’t think I’ve ever experienced this level of embarrassment. This is a new low, and I feel it in my throat and my eyes.

“Wow, she’s so obedient.” Verity smirks.

My heartbeat is in my ears, and I bite my lip to stop tears from forming. She wants to hurt me. I’ve had people not like me before, sure. I’m not sure why this is different.

“Don’t give them any fuel. There are cameras in here.”

My hands shake as the cloth napkin in my hand pushes around the wine, which is seeping into the wood grain of the floor. I focus on the sound of his voice and the task right in front of me until I regain my composure.

How is he talking to me? Then I remember the drink . . . The sparkling glitter at the bottom of the glass must have been a potion.

“You drugged me.”

“It’s harmless and only lasts about an hour once it kicks in. Call it an intimidation trick my grandfather taught me. It’s important that you pass their test and that it doesn’t look like I helped you. Just keep yourself calm and smiling, and they won’t have anything to use against you later.”

Dacre is actually helping me. So I didn’t imagine the concern in his eyes when he helped with my nosebleed.

I drop the sopping wet napkins on the tablecloth and straighten my skirt.

“There.”

“Perfect.” She knocks her plate off the table, shattering the porcelain and sending the food flying across the floor and into my hair. “Now eat.”

Another plate hits the floor. Luther yells, “Mine too!”

I wish I were still drunk, so at least I wouldn’t feel so sick. All the emotions I’ve shoved down are stirring in my gut and up my throat when I think of my mother. I’ll have to tell her this.

For some reason, I imagine falling into her arms and crying while she picks peas out of my hair, and my obedient smile almost slips. I’m glad she isn’t here to see this.

“Ah, no eating rule. Remember?” Dacre’s voice is monotone as he pops another bite of soufflé into his mouth. He’s barely looking at me.

“Breathe,” he reminds me.

“Since when are you a stickler for rules?” she says.

“Since I had to spend my night supervising this shit. She sits here with me,” Dacre says before Verity can get in another word. He points a finger at me and then at himself. “Come.”

He motions to his lap, widening his stance for me to sit on his leg.

“You can’t be serious.”

“My lap is better than the floor.”

I do as I’m told, taking my seat on the warmth of his lap. I’m immediately overtaken by the smell of his cologne again. It has to be expensive. Something they bottle up on the far end of Vviveren because I’m sure nothing has ever smelled this good before.