Page 14 of Blood We Steal

“Why did you tell me to go for the brain?” I responded, putting my foot on one of the round stools and looking at her.

The harsh light in the common area made her dark skin dull rather than lighting its usual glow. Her forehead was damp with sweat, and there was a rip in her shirt. Her hair, which was pulled back in a meticulous braid, had come partially undone. She looked wrecked.

And insane as it was, I wanted to lick the sweat off her forehead, keep ripping that shirt until it was completely off. I wanted her. Ah, the conundrum that was Simone.

She exhaled, her breasts quivering with the effort, claiming my attention even though that was the last thing I wanted. But she relaxed. I’d never get her to admit it, but instinct told me she had enjoyed those conversations that we had had before. I had often asked her opinion, and when I finally managed to get her to relax enough to talk to me, insight into her thoughts had been incredible.

True, those insights I’d held so dear had been nothing but a part of the facade Simone had created to deceive me. But her liar’s mind had been useful and it would be again.

“That…man in the warden’s office. He didn’t react when you hit him. He didn’t react when his arm was broken.”

“Drugs could have reduced the pain,” I said.

“I thought about that, but it seems unlikely. I don’t know of a drug that would make his eyes look like that. And he only stopped when you hit his head. His brain.”

“You think that’s conclusive?”

“No. But there’s not a good alternate theory. And those things that were trying to claw at me when…They…” She trailed off, looked away, then looked at me again. “They didn’t seem human.”

I shrugged. “So you accept Damian’s word. The dead are walking.”

“I don’t accept Damian’s word. Only what I saw,” she said.

“Hm.”

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” she said.

“What else should I say? We have a working thesis. Until it’s proven wrong, we don’t have anything else to go with.”

“So what now?” She wasn’t talking about the dead. I saw it from the nervous way she licked the corner of her lips, and I knew the answer.

“Now you tell me why I shouldn’t kill you.”

EIGHT

Simone

“Are you serious?” I asked.

I tried to look anywhere but at Rubin, but my gaze moved to him, and I shivered at the intensity in his eyes. He was close enough that I could feel the heat from his skin just like I could feel the weight of his thumb on my lip.

“Have you ever known me to be anything but?”

I hadn’t. And now was no different.

“Do you see that?” I pointed toward the door at the far end of the room. The one that had a blood-stained cheek pressed against it. At least the body that the cheek belonged to wasn’t moving, but the way the cheek jerked and slid across the blood-specked glass told me something just out of sight was feasting.

“I do. What of it?”

I gawked at him. “Rubin, you just accepted a working theory that the dead are walking, and you want to talk about this of all things?” I said.

“If that theory is true, we might not have another opportunity. Stop filibustering. Answer.” His expression was granite. “You betrayed me, Simone. You lied to me, Simone. You owe me your life.”

I let out a bitter chuckle. “You’ve made your position on that very clear, Rubin.”

“So then tell me why.”

I swallowed. Met his eyes. “You shouldn’t kill me because I’m useful.”