JENNIE
MINE.
I wished I could have said that terrifying little speech was what finally made it sink in that Lisa Manoban was a madman bound for hell …but she was right.
There was no way out, even if I had wanted one.
She was inescapable. Her shadow loomed over me as I clung to the edges of the desk and tried to remember how to breathe.
"You are mine, Jennie," she insisted, stressing every single word.
I wasn't naïve enough to take them romantically. To her, I was nothing more than property—but that fact didn't make it any easier to take my eyes off that blood-stained knife. Nor could I ignore the liquid warmth dripping down my arm to form small puddles of crimson at my feet.
Uh, oh, I thought hysterically. You've done it now, Jennie. You're playing with fire.
Or ice, I corrected, as Lisa's fingers came to bat the curls away from my throat. A frigid thumb caressed my pulse, once, twice.
"Say it," she said impatiently against my earlobe. "I want to hear you say it."
"I …" When I didn't answer fast enough, her fingers fisted in my hair, wrenching on a handful of curls.
"Answer me, Jennie," she warned, sounding more feral with every syllable.
The snob somewhere inside me wanted to jab my nose into the air, and deny her. I was Jennie Kim and I belonged to no one.
But that woman lived alone.
She had no friends, family who couldn't be bothered, and no life outside of her polished, pampered manor walls.
She was a ghost …and only now could I finally face the fact that I was tired of pretending to be her. Maybe Lisa was right. Maybe I really was just wearing the mask of who I thought everyone else wanted me to be.
But that doesn't give her the right to do this, I thought, biting my lower lip so hard I tasted blood—cut, push, taunt and demand things from me no one ever had before.
I hated her for it.
But, a tiny voice at the back of my mind countered, you're not running away ...
And I didn't. As the seconds passed, I stayed there, stunned, leaning over the desk with fresh blood painting my skin. Lisa gave me a full minute's reprieve before she pulled on another curl. "I'm only going to ask you this one more time; who do you belong to?"
Run! My conscience wailed. You don't have to give in!
But I was too tired to move. Too tired to push her off and crawl back to Kim Manor alone. Besides, a tiny, disembodied voice whispered, you're dying anyway. It's not like you have long to suffer the consequences ...
When she began to seize another handful of my hair, I finally voiced the one word I would have never thought in a million years could sound so dangerous.
"You."
I was shocked when my voice came out steady, without a hint of hesitation. No fear. No shame. Just acceptance.
Slowly, the grip on my hair loosened, allowing me to turn so that I could finally see her face. Her eyes burned with unholy fire, just daring me to run. Red coated her lips, vibrant against that ivory skin. she was the devil incarnate, dressed impeccably in Armani, and I had never seen a sight more terrifying.
"Me," she agreed in a growl, fangs glinting beneath the hood of her mouth, "and do you know what that means?"
Did I?
Without tearing her gaze from mine, her thumb teased the wound on my shoulder. The pain made my eyes water, but the tiny gasp that broke from my lips betrayed anything but fear.
I could have lied to myself—as, I supposed, I had been all along.
But when my eyes went directly to the glistening canines threatening to impale her lower lip, I couldn't deny it any longer: I knew what this meant, all right.
The mere fact that I had come crawling back, tail in tow, proved that her assessment of me had been correct. That I liked this; I liked having her dole out pain as easily as she could pleasure.
I liked being at her mercy…
As if the thought alone was her cue, Lisa shifted, placing both hands flat against the desk on either side of me—and there was no escape.
"Tell me what you want from me," she commanded against the nape of my neck. This time, her tone was softer, but no less frightening than a growl. "And don't you dare spout that rubbish about some silly ring."
What I wanted?
Words sprung to my lips even as I shied away from voicing them: you, destruction, more …all of it.
"Should I remind you?" Lisa goaded, when I didn't respond.
My entire body stiffened as she lowered her head. I knew what she would do next, but I felt any protests die in my throat, as she teased the skin along my shoulder blade with the points of two deliciously sharp canines. Slowly, she scraped a path up to the side of my neck, hovering predatorily over the thrum of a pulse—but before she could pierce the flesh, both fangs drew back.
As if to tease me, she did it once more, applying just enough pressure to sting before withdrawing.
My eyelids fluttered. I was still bleeding, but all I could focus on was the sudden desire to have her take more. Drain every last drop.
Before I could stop, I found myself gasping out, "Just do it—"
She never even lifted her mouth. All I heard was a metallic clink, as she snatched the knife from the desk and brought the blade down in a single swipe.
The second cut was much deeper than the first.
It was a struggle to fight down the instinctive urge to run—fight—as pain and ice shattered through tendrils of pleasure.
Unconcerned, Lisa's mouth continued its lazy descent, tongue lapping up the fresh blood as she went, with the delicacy of a connoisseur sampling wine.
I could feel my heart picking up speed with every slow, deliberate pass of her tongue. My head tilted before I could help it, offering her better access to the veins ... Soon the pain was just a bad memory, all but swept away beneath a wave of aching pleasure so heavy it hurt.
Bit by bit, I could feel my body relaxing—leaning into her rather than pulling away. her arms edged closer to my body, no longer restraining but supporting.
That unexplored, forsaken area between my legs began to throb, sharp and demanding. Mindlessly, I shifted, rubbing my thighs together just to relieve the ache. I had to consciously stop my hand from reaching down.
Without warning, Lisa withdrew from my skin, leaving a moist trail across my shoulder blades. At the same time, her cold fingers tugged at my bra, undoing the clasp and wrenching it down my arms before I could protest. The next second that same hand was beginning a slow ascent up my inner thigh ...
Every cell in my body was held in thrall by those creeping fingers.
She maliciously toyed with the rim of my panties before peeling back the cotton and sliding a finger underneath. My teeth descended into my bottom lip to trap the sound that threatened to break free as she rubbed in a single, fiery circle, alighting sparks that travelled down my spine ...
Just when I thought the teasing might drive me insane, she pressed harder, and a strangled cry broke free from my lips before I could smother it.
"Do you want me to stop?"
I could have lied to myself, told her yes …
But my answering groan seemed to give her all the encouragement she needed; in one fierce yank, my underwear slid down my legs, followed quickly by my skirt.
Both garments hit the floor and not even a second later, I found my legs being wrenched apart.
Taking a knee in one hand, she forced it onto the rim of the desk as the other leg struggled to support my weight.
The position was awkward, and it terrified me to realize that Lisa was the only thing keeping me upright. As if aware of that fact, she muscled in closer from behind, until I couldn't tell where the hard wood of the desk ended and she began.
Then, hands harder than steel palmed my waist, guiding my hips backwards…
I knew what would happen next. Little Red Riding Hood wasn't so naïve anymore that she couldn't guess the intention in the wolf's eyes.
She gave me no warning this time. No more tortuous stroking of icy fingers to urge me closer to the brink. No blunt overview of what she planned to do and how she planned on doing it …
I had nothing but the sound of a zipper being undone before I felt the length of her slide against my inner thigh, hard and solid and frozen.
I shuddered as the blunt head of her rubbed against me, brusquely seeking my entrance. Fear began to sink in with the intensity of a thousand stabbing needles, as I waited for her to push in, hard and fast without a care. Maybe …I even wanted her too …
But she used her thumb to spread me apart, before advancing so slowly that I forgot how to breathe, to think.
My nails dug into the wood of the desk as my body struggled to adjust to the invasion. With a muffled groan, she entered another inch. Then another. And another, until she was finally buried to the hilt.
She waited, ominously patient, before pulling back and thrusting again—only deeper this time, lunging so hard that she forced me flat against the desk.
And again.
Again …
God. My eyelids fluttered while my sweat-soaked fingers desperately sought purchase against the polished wood. Every sensation felt sinful. Harder. Hotter. More explosive. Frantic thoughts flooded my mind. Too much. Too much. Not enough …
From this angle she struck parts of me I hadn't even known existed. Fire swept through my abdomen, building through my skin until I could feel my toes curl within their heels.
She was right; this wasn't a game.
With every thrust, her tongue raked the torn skin of my shoulder, capturing each drop of blood. Whichever cut she didn't wickedly caress with her tongue, she toyed with instead, using the sharp points of her nails to mimic biting fangs.
My head flew back, baring my throat, silently urging her to take more as I forgot for the briefest of seconds that this wasn't just about pleasure. With every passing second that my blood flowed, common decency—or even sense—didn't matter.
I just wanted her to stop teasing and bite. Consume. Tear me apart.
Like some sick premonition, her earlier words taunted me. I want the woman who climaxes whenever I sink my fangs into her throat. And I wanted to be her and not just for her, but for me ...
"Please," I heard myself rasp, weak and broken. "Just …"
"What?" her voice was steady with enviable control. "Say it, and do remember your manners."
"Lisa, please—"
She nipped, just once, as if to shut me up, and white-hot pleasure hit me like a physical blow.
Yes …
My body quivered with anticipation, excitement racing through my veins; waiting, wanting, needing.
I strained on tiptoe as she forced herself deeper, trying to remember how to form words. She was moving too quickly …not quickly enough. I needed more—less.
I needed all of her.
One cold hand gripped my waist while the other palmed the desk. Using the leverage to her advantage, she swiveled her hips, sparking a carnal friction that made stars explode behind my eyelids.
My left shoulder was a wet, sticky mess, bathed in crimson. I waited for her to clamp down—to finally drink like she had that night in the cathedral—but she still held back.
"You know the rules, Jennie ..." Her tongue grazed my shoulder, no longer teasing, as she rammed into me so hard that I tried my best to muffle my moan with my own hands. "Please what?"
I gave up, broke, shattered—whatever it was called when you lost your one last shred of pride and just didn't give a damn. All I wanted was ...
"Tell me," she growled against the crook of my neck. Her tone was different this time—it was damn near encouraging. Obey me, and I'll end this …
"Please, Mam," I croaked. "I need to—" I gasped as her hand returned to my hair, using it as a handle to yank my head upright.
"You need to what, Jennie?" That oddly gentle tone was back and my aching body latched onto it.
This time I didn't hesitate. "I need to come."
Orgasm.
Climax—whatever the hell it was called. I was willing to say anything she wanted. Newly discovered nerves buried deep within my core throbbed in torment. With every thrust, I whimpered until my jaw clenched. Every vein in my body felt alive, aching to be pierced ...
I couldn't take anymore of this.
As if to drill the point home, I felt her move against me, icy flesh against heated skin. In a slow, torturous circle her hips swiveled—hard—and I moaned in relief …
But it still wasn't enough. It wasn't the sharp, quick rhythm that a part of me – or all of me – desperately craved. My entire body rippled in tune to the pulse of her shaft, but I needed more.
So close …
"Please, Lisa!"
The brief break in character earned me a hard slap on the hip. Thwack! The pain was electrifying, and mingled with the pleasure that was encasing me from head to toe until …
My back arched, hips thrusting back, forcing her deeper and even her grip on my waist wasn't enough to stop me. I groaned, shuddering somewhere on the precipice between fear and sweet agony as icy fingers fanned out along the back of my neck.
She was angry, furious at me for taking my own pleasure without permission. I could sense it in the way her grip tightened, applying subtle pressure—but she only used the hold for leverage as that massive body positioned fully over mine.
"Oh!" The sound tore from my lips as she lunged, striking in one, deep stroke.
And she no longer held back.
Her hands were in my hair, grasping at the clumps of curls, pulling me into her, forcing my back to arch and take her deeper. Deeper, still …
I was incoherent. It was all I could do to scrape my nails against the wood and hold on as every thrust brought me closer to the brink.
God …
Yes …
One more …
I jerked, straining against her, desperate and needy – and then I was falling, crashing, breaking into a million tiny pieces.
As if from miles away, I felt Lisa stiffen and the grip on my waist became a manacle, holding me in place as she thrust deep one final time and then held herself there before collapsing hard against my back.
I was lost.
It seemed to take eons before I finally returned to my body, dizzy and dazed. After that, the seconds passed in silence and everything began to sink in.
One, I was lying beneath someone so heavy she could have crushed me beneath her pinky toe.
Two, I was naked save for my heels, slumped face down over a desk in the middle of a fully populated building.
Three …I vaguely remembered promising the proverbial Devil my body and soul, in exchange for pain and pleasure.
So I remained there, naked and breathless, as I listened to every single drop of my blood splash against the floor and waited for the rude awakening I knew was coming.
The desk creaked as Lisa pushed back with her hands and stood.
I could hear her moving behind me, grabbing the loose papers that had fallen to the floor. They ruffled as she smoothed them all into a neat stack and returned the pile to the drawer.
Then she waited, merely a few feet away, and I could feel her gaze searing the back of my neck.
"Get dressed."
I flinched. While outright banishment wasn't exactly a surprise, the words didn't sting any less. I felt like one of the cheap maids my father had her not-so-secret dalliances with; the fun was over and now it was time to get dressed. Get up. Get out.
I tried to tell myself that I was more than happy to comply with all three commands—once I remembered how to move …
Everything from my hair down to the tips of my toes ached. I could only slump against the desk, wobbling on my heels, and squeeze my eyes shut. I hoped that wishful thinking might have been enough to erase everything that had just happened; all I had to do was click my heels three times and I could be back at Kim Manor, normal, boring Jennie Kim once again.
Though not if my Devil had anything to do with it.
"I have a meeting in an hour." The impatient tone was as bracing as a slap. I peeled my eyes open, but rather than being faced with a frowning Lisa pointing to the door, I blinked as something was tossed in my direction so quickly I didn't have time to catch it. "Here."
There was a muffled thump as the object landed on the desk; but instead of my emerald blouse, I found a man's shirt lying there. One that just so happened to be in a haunting shade of black.
Utterly confused, I couldn't resist running a hand down the silky material even as I expected for her to growl, don't touch!
"What is this?"
When Lisa didn't answer, I snuck a peek over my shoulder to find that she had moved to the other side of the room, and now stood in front of an open closet stocked with several crisp shirts. For some reason, I wasn't surprised. Something told me that being splattered with blood was enough of a typical occurrence for her, that she felt the need to always be prepared.
In the space of a few seconds, she had already changed. With a flick of her wrist, she straightened the fresh, ivory collar, and just like that, she looked shiny and new again, save for a tell-tale dot of scarlet on her lower lip.
I hated her.
"I don't have all day," she added, sensing my gaze. She sounded irritated, as if I was wasting her precious time just by being there, by breathing.
"I …I need my clothes," I blurted, allowing her shirt to fall back onto the desk.
She turned to face me with one blond eyebrow raised. Are you an imbecile? Without a word, she stooped to lift a bit of green fabric from the floor; my blouse. I held out my hand but, rather than offer it to me, she promptly tore the garment in half.
The sound echoed violently in my ears. Then, as casually as though it had been just another scrap piece of paper, she wadded it in a fist and tossed it into the wastebasket.
"Get dressed," she commanded once again. Before I even had the chance to obey she came forward and snatched her own shirt from the desk. I could only stand there, as she grabbed my hand and forced it through a sleeve. She did the same to the other and then brusquely fastened the buttons one by one up to my chin.
"You have good timing," She told me, as she bent down for the underwear. Manually, she lifted my ankles, one by one from the floor to slide my panties back into place. "I was just about to leave."
Huh?
I didn't know whether to be confused or insulted at my supposed 'convenience,' as she proceeded to yank my skirt on as well.
I waited for her to shove me to the door, or storm out herself—leaving me there to my shame. Instead, she snatched my bag from the desk, reached for my arm and I only had enough time to grab my money, before I found myself dragged after her and down the hall.
"Come on."
Don't panic, I tried to tell myself. Perhaps escorting me to the car herself was her strange, personal way of compounding my humiliation?
Her face gave nothing away; even that usual scowl was absent.
If I hadn't known any better, I might have described her appearance as …well, not brooding and angry for once. Calm, even? It was a terrifying thought. I almost wished she would snarl and bare her fangs. Growl at least?
One might have thought that I had just met her for tea rather than barged into her office and thrown money in her face. Speaking of which …
The bills felt unbearably heavy. They weighed me down, causing me to stagger as Lisa manhandled me into the elevator and hit the button for the lobby.
When the elevator doors split apart, there was no place left to hide as the wide-eyed receptionist noticed me beside her. Cool and in control as always, Lisa inclined her head in greeting as though nothing was out of place—I was merely her dowdy accessory with tousled hair.
"Good morning, Becky."
"M-Morning … Ms. Manoban."
Despite her frozen smile, poor Becky looked horribly confused. Even more so when I proceeded to drop a wad of cash on her desk as Lisa hauled me past.
"Morning, Becky," I croaked, before I found myself unceremoniously dragged out the door.
The daylight was blinding. I had to shield my eyes with my hand as Lisa took a hold of my sleeve and used it like a leash to pull me after her.
Don't panic …
I felt dizzy with relief when I noticed Harper, standing by the car where I'd left him last. I attempted to wriggle free from Lisa's grip, ready to duck within the dark safety of the Rolls Royce—but to my immense horror, her grip tightened like a vice.
Rather than the promise of a quick trip home to wallow in my shame, I found myself steered toward another, equally familiar black car and unceremoniously shoved into the backseat.
"Lisa?" I paled as she promptly slammed the door in my face.
Dark, sordid scenarios flooded my brain as I tugged frantically on the door handle, only to hear the click of the lock being engaged a second later.
"Sorry, Miss," the driver replied from the front seat—but I could tell that he didn't really give a damn; just following orders.
Horrified, I could only watch as Lisa approached Harper and said something that made the driver nod his head in response. Yes, Mam. Then, as cool as you please, Lisa proceeded to reach into her pocket for a wad of cash, which she casually counted before tucking into Harper's hand.
Just like that, my faithful servant climbed back into the car and left me behind.
Should I panic now? I wondered. I made one last-ditch attempt at the door—but when Lisa finally turned in my direction …
For an instant, I forgot to be afraid, as heat flooded my veins at the sight of her, hair gleaming in the sunlight.
She was so beautiful.
It was easy to overlook that fact in between all of her terrorizing. Now, safe behind inches of metal, I could finally admit that the sight of her struck me dumb. A part of me almost couldn't believe that only a moment earlier, she had been crushed against me, had been hungry for me, had wanted me.
However, when she saw me there, face practically pressed up against the glass, she frowned and the trance shattered.
I scrambled back as she wrenched open the door, even before she waved a dismissive hand for me to do so. Move.
Her icy chill hit me like a slap as she sat down. I squeezed myself against the opposite door, but it wasn't nearly far enough away from her. The moment she closed the door, the car lurched into motion and I was trapped.
It was only then that I realized I was still bleeding. Rivulets of warmth dripped down my back, pooling beneath the waistband of my skirt. As if my realization were her cue, I saw Lisa stiffen from the corner of my eye. The next second she was withdrawing something from her pocket and pressing it into my hand.
"Clean that up."
I frowned at the sight of another pristine handkerchief. It rested on my palm, almost as pale as I was. I hated the thought of accepting her help but, with a sigh, I loosened the topmost buttons of my shirt and eased the wad of cloth underneath.
I had to grit my teeth against a gasp as I applied the tiniest amount of pressure. Ouch. The cuts stung. To make matters worse, I could sense a pair of gray eyes on the back of my neck, watching like a hawk as blood seeped through the ivory cotton.
Gingerly I dabbed at the wounds, only to draw a hiss of disgust from Lisa. Apparently, I wasn't moving quickly enough for her liking.
"Turn around."
I gulped at her tone, though I had enough sense not to argue. I merely obeyed, while reaching up to swipe my hair out of the way. A part of me expected for her to just play the role of uncaring doctor, like she had that night in the solar—but she reached around me instead. Then, without warning, she unhooked the front of the shirt and wrenched it down my shoulders.
I froze. Images of what had happened in the office flooded my mind, one after the other. I waited, body so tense it felt like one good bump in the road might have been enough to make me shatter into pieces. Lisa took the handkerchief from my hand, but rather than trying to staunch the bleeding, she set the cloth aside and her finger trailed the line of a cut instead.
Bit by bit it inched its way up my shoulder, ghosting the sore flesh.
"Does it hurt?" she asked after a tortuous few seconds.
I blinked. She sounded genuinely curious, but I shook my head as her icy touch trailed down to encircle my wrist.
"Really?" The dark note in her voice warned me not to lie.
"A little," I admitted. It was the first time I realized how deep the cuts really were. Would I need stitches?
Though, if anything, her touch felt worse; the brush of those fingers disrupted my breathing. Within seconds, I was suffocating.
I tried to tell myself that this was Lisa—who had certainly touched me in much more sensitive places than my damn shoulder—but this time, the contact felt different. I was keenly aware of her, so close. My body trembled. My teeth chattered. My heart sped up. Unbidden, those four dangerous words echoed in my mind; you belong to me.
"Good," she murmured in answer to my admission. "You'll remember how it felt."
Fear ran through me like a punch; something told me that she was no longer talking about the pain.
Desperate to change the subject, I glanced out of the window to find the city passing by in a blur. I had no idea where on earth we were now, or where she could have been taking me. Too uneasy to care about the danger, I decided to risk her wrath by asking.
"Where are we going?"
I hated how pathetic I sounded. My voice shook. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to find enough air. Any moment I was afraid I might scream—either out of fear or shock; whichever one became more unbearable first.
"Why should it matter?"
Her voice took on a slightly harder edge and an icy finger strayed deliberately close to one of the cuts. I hissed at the resulting pain, eyes watering.
"Isn't this the part where you send me off in ruin and add another notch on your bed post?" I asked through gritted teeth. "One more soul corrupted?"
I was surprised that the words came out sounding carefree, with all the 'ho-hum' attitude of a snob who didn't give a damn. I almost felt pleased with myself.
"You're not even halfway corrupted," Lisa scoffed as if insulted. She cupped my chin, forcing me to face her. "Why, look …" her gaze trailed down over my chest as if seeing something there that I couldn't. "You still have your soul. Turn around."
She yanked on my arm, forcing me to face the window. I waited for her to pull a needle full of her mysterious "cure" from her pocket—but, she merely settled the shirt back into place, leaving me to fasten the buttons on my own.
When I finally turned to face her, the bloody handkerchief was gone and she was leaning back into the leather seats. No one could ever guess that not even ten minutes earlier, she had cut me twice before stripping me naked in the middle of her office, among other things …
The memory made my cheeks heat with shame, and I tried my best to gather the remaining shreds of my pride as I fiddled with my purse on my lap.
"So …what happens now?"
Unsurprisingly, Lisa didn't answer. When I finally had the nerve to sneak another glance at her face, I saw that her eyes were closed. Apparently, terrorizing young damsels was a tiring affair.
I just couldn't fathom her. Cold one minute. Intense the next ...
"You didn't answer my question." I copied her by sinking back into the leather cushions with a sigh. My shoulder throbbed in protest, but it was easy to overlook the pain in comparison to everything else.
It blew my mind how, despite everything that had just occurred we were once again back to our usual dynamic; a frustrated me, needling her for answers. Apparently, verbally selling my soul meant nothing—I was still pathetic, and still at her mercy.
You could always give in to Somi and just say the pesky word, I thought, crossing my arms over my chest. It's not like you have anything left to lose.
It was only when those glacial eyes cut sharply in my direction that I realized I had said the last sentence out loud.
"I have another business arrangement; you will accompany me."
She made it sound so damn simple, harmless—but I felt like a mouse invited to accompany a cat on a hunt.
"Why?"
She raised a blond eyebrow. "Would 'because I said so' sound too melodramatic? Really, Jennie. You did willingly pledge your soul to me; use your imagination."
I stiffened at the reminder, but I had to admit that, once again, the words lacked the biting sting of an offensive remark. Had I had any sense of tact, I would have shut my mouth, realizing that even too tired to tear apart my pride, Lisa was not a person to be trifled with.
But I couldn't resist; I could always blame it on the blood loss.
"A vampire 'business arrangement?' Or …a normal one?"
"Why should it matter?"
I bit my lip, weighing my next words carefully as the car darted over a bridge and Lisa's eyes flashed a warning shade of silver. Careful, Jennie …
"I've lost quite a bit of a blood already," I said quietly. "I'm not fond of the prospect of losing any more—"
"It concerns the land you helped me purchase the other day," Lisa admitted, cutting over me. "I'm overseeing the development of it."
That was fast. I counted back the few days since I had helped her win over Haswell. What kinds of real estate might a vampire desire to build in such a hurry? Another club? Another reclusive mansion in the hills?
The thought sparked a different question that I found myself blurting before I could help it. "What was that about, last night?"
Excluding my impromptu slap and her scathing assessment of me, of course. I was annoyed, but not surprised, to see that her face held no hint of a bruise to remember the broadside of my hand by, just flawless, pale skin.
"What do you mean?"
Watch yourself, Jennie girl …
"I sensed some …hostility."
The sad part was that I didn't even have to specify whether I was referring to Raphael or the people at the strange ball in general. Lisa certainly seemed to lack for friends; it appeared as though Jisoo was the only one who didn't hate nor loathe her—at least not outright.
"Hmmm …" she reached up to rub her chin. "And here I was thinking that I had played my part of sycophant so well."
"You … You don't like him?"
She made a small sound of amusement in the back of her throat. "I 'like' very few things in this life, Jennie. You would be wise to remember that."
Point taken. I backed off the topic, but was unable to resist posing another one. I knew better—though who could blame me? After all, she was the one who had accused me of liking danger in the first place.
"Last night …they said that you had bargained for my contract from him?"
"They?" Like a predator presented with fresh meat, Lisa bolted upright, expression cold as she turned to face me. "I had wondered what Mikhail and those other fools might have whispered in your ear."
I gulped, unable to miss how she deliberately ignored my question.
"What else did 'they' say?" she demanded.
"Nothing," I said a little too quickly. "Only that …you bought my contract from Raphael. As well as Jisoo's."
Lisa didn't seem convinced that was all there was. "It's been a long while since I reminded Mikhail the importance of minding one's business. Perhaps such a lesson is long overdue."
Her tone conjured images of violence, and I cringed at the thought of what such a 'lesson' might entail. Desperate for another distraction, I blurted the first thing that came to mind.
"What's a shiftspinner?"
Lisa held my gaze for so long that I was convinced she wouldn't answer. Despite myself, I truly wished that she would explain; the damn word had been on my mind all night. I had pondered the meaning countless times, but I still had no clue.
"A shiftspinner is a witch," Lisa said finally. The fact that she had answered me at all nearly made me fall off the seat in shock. "One whose power comes from the natural essence in fabrics, left behind by whatever plants or animals formed it. They have a skill to create clothing that, when worn, can bestow the wearer with different strengths: invisibility cloaks, impenetrable armor and the like …"
She sounded so matter-of-fact, the same way someone might have said 'a burger flipper? Well, they flip burgers, of course!'
I, however, had to clench my jaw shut just to keep my mouth from falling open. First vampires, now witches?
"Jisoo?" I asked, eyes wide, though I figured that a part of me already knew the answer even before she nodded.
'Something like that,' she had answered when I asked if she was a fashion designer. No wonder she worked for the club if her clothing was literally magical. And no wonder I had looked so decent in it.
"Can they read minds?" I asked, staring down at my pathetic tweed skirt, which looked so plain when paired with the exquisite fabric of her shirt. "Is Somi one as well?"
"No." Lisa sounded amused. "Though, she has 'read' you, I assume? I was wondering when she'd pull one of her little tricks." she flashed a cold, mirthless smile that reminded me of a shark's yawn—nothing but teeth. "Somi is a succubus. She cannot actually read minds—merely the subconscious fears and desires of those around her. A trick she loves to exploit to ensnare her contracts."
"Succubus." The word tasted strange on my tongue. "Can she read your mind?" I wondered, oddly intrigued by the idea of someone being able to sneak past Lisa's defenses.
"Oh, I'm sure Somi would love to play her games on me. However, I am always one step ahead of her." she adjusted her collar as she spoke and I caught a glimpse of that strange silver cross.
Did the talisman possess some kind of magic ability? I opened my mouth to ask, but before I could, the car came to a stop and my Devil's demeanor shifted once again.
"Time's up, Jennie," she announced. "I have humored you long enough. Make yourself decent."
I automatically reached up to feel my hair. My curls were wild—some of them completely knotted by her pulling fingers, which served as a blunt reminder as to what had happened just a few moments earlier. My cheeks heated with shame as I clumsily adjusted my collar and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear.
Without bothering to wait for me, Lisa opened her door and climbed out. I scrambled after her, glancing around in confusion.
We had left the city. Now, nothing but trees loomed above in place of skyscrapers, lining a narrow road and an open field of lush green grass.
It was a lovely place, quiet, secluded.
And, as Lisa came up behind me, I had to wonder why the hell she had brought me here.