Chapter 15
Sam missed Bellis. She snorted, shaking her head at the realization. Idiot! Still, all the self-admonishment in the world wouldn’t change the fact that she’d felt different around him. Sure, the Keepers who held her now were just as large as Skin Walkers, but something about standing beside Bellis’ massive frame made her feel feminine and surprisingly safe. Odd, because she never felt safe. It wasn’t just that he was large either. It was the way he hovered over her, made sure she wasn’t stepped on or bumped into. It was sexy as all fuck and the last thing she needed right now was to be getting all wet over a fucking Skin Walker, especially a demon Walker. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about those black lips and the way his white incisors overfilled his mouth and pressed into his bottom lip. Hot! She wondered if his lips would taste like sin, and the thought had her licking her own before she slammed her eyes closed with a sigh.
Rolling to her side, she ignored the pain the action brought, facing the wall while trying to think about how she was going to get herself out of this mess. She’d been given something to help her sleep, and she was just now shaking off the last of its effects. Her clearing senses were a relief. She needed her wits about her if she still hoped to escape. Honestly though, escape was becoming a secondary concern to her body’s sudden inability to process blood. It’d never happened before, and somehow, she knew it had something to do with feeding from Bellis. Taking his blood had done something to her, and she had no idea what. Even Jenny couldn’t come up with a theory, but it didn’t stop the Skin Walker doctor from taking samples of Sam’s blood without Sam’s consent. She’d been too weak to do anything but glare at the woman while she tried to convince Sam that she was doing it for Sam’s benefit. Bitch!
Sighing, her mind strayed back to Bellis. Involuntarily, her tongue swiped her dry lips and her belly growled. She was hungry for him, and her eyes fluttered closed when she realized it was in more ways than one. She wondered where he was, what he was doing, who he was doing it with. She even wondered if he was thinking about her, and that errant thought had her eyes snapping open. Of course he wasn’t thinking about her. Nobody thought about her, but goddamn, she was thinking about him. She was thinking about his eyes and how the little pinpricks of blue in the middle nearly perfectly matched the color of her own. For some odd reason that made her feel a kinship with him that she knew she shouldn’t.
A slight sound caught her attention, stifling her unwanted thoughts. Shoving slowly up from her prone position on her cot, her eyes shot to where she knew the door was, and she waited with a disgusting amount of hope that Bellis was back.
Nyree stepped into view and Sam’s heart plummeted. Carrying a tray of food, Nyree stopped at the cell door and bent to slide the tray through the bottom slot. Sam was surprised to see her again after the fiasco of what had happened in the infirmary.
Jenny had finally talked Nyree into offering up blood, because apparently, the good doc was creaming herself over keeping Sam alive long enough to study her. It was both good and bad. Good, because it bought Sam time, and bad because she didn’t to be poked and prodded. Once Nyree agreed, Jenny took a sample of blood the same way she’d taken her own, and honestly, Sam had been relieved. One Walker woman and a human female weren’t going to be a match for her once she was fully sated with blood. But, once again, that didn’t happen. No, she’d drunk down Nyree’s blood the same as she’d taken Jenny’s, and just like before she’d puked it all up until her guts felt like they were being ripped from her insides. Her wound had re-opened fully and Jenny had been forced to stitch her. That was when she’d drugged Sam to make her sleep. When Sam finally woke, she was back in her cell, stitched, bandaged, nauseated, and thirsty as all fuck.
Sam watched Nyree stand and cross her arms over her chest, trying to look intimidating. She had something wadded in her hand, and her brows dipped as she lifted her hand and shoved something between the bars before letting it drop. It nearly landed on Sam’s plate of food, but she didn’t give two shits because food wasn’t going to cut it right now.
“Here are your clothes,” Nyree clipped out.
***
Bellis entered the door leading to the cells behind Nyree, but he didn’t show himself. Not yet. While Sam was oblivious to the fact that he was there, he wanted to listen to her conversation, scent her, see if he couldn’t pick up on something, anything that might explain her.
Planting himself against the wall, he watched Nyree slide the tray of food into Sam’s cell and then shove her suit through the bars. When Sam spoke, just the sound of her voice had him tensing hard.
“Ooooh, Little Dove, I like your hair.”
Nyree’s hair hung to her waist in soft hazel curls. Admittedly, it was nice if you noticed girly shit like that, but the flattering remark coming from Sam was odd. He’d never heard her praise anyone and he wondered at her words.
“Th-thank you,” Nyree offered reluctantly, as if unsure how to respond.
Sam’s voice was dead when she spoke again. “It’d look good on my mantle.”
Damn, Bellis couldn’t stop the smirk that tweaked his lips. There was the Sam he knew.
“I’m not afraid of you,” Nyree countered boldly.
There was a smile in Sam’s voice when she responded, “You fucking should be.”
“You’re going to die in here,” Nyree vowed, and it pissed him off.
Who was she to make threats like that?
“You’re a vampire who can’t even feed!” Nyree looked down at the plate on the floor. “Unless steak and potatoes will sustain you, then you are on limited time, vampire.”
Sam’s voice was mocking when she responded, “Oh, I’m not dying in here, Little Dove. This, this is vacation.” There was a beat of silence before she sing-songed, “And it’s almooost o-ver!”
“Say what you want, traitor. You’re never leaving here.”
“We’ll see.”
Nyree turned and marched down the hall, brushing Bellis’ broad arm as she passed. She slammed the door as she left, and thinking she was alone, Bellis heard Sam sigh deeply. It sounded defeated and gave him an insight to her. She was always pretending to be so hard. He’d believed it was an act, but that little sound? That just confirmed it.
He took a step, then another, and kept on walking until Sam’s slight frame came into view. She was huddled on a cot in a blood soaked gown. The sight was infuriating. Why hadn’t she been cleaned, or given fresh clothing? Skin Walkers didn’t treat their captives like this, and he made a mental note to have a talk with Fatal about how his Keepers treated prisoners.
Sam’s blue gaze locked on his, and he had to concentrate on keeping his feet moving.
“Well, well, well. My demon, you’re back.”