He hesitates. My heart sinks as I watch the expression on his face crumple a little. “Fuck. You didn’t tell someone already, did you?”
“No,” he says quickly. “But I think that prince dude noticed me noticing you.”
“He did. I looked at you too, and I know I shouldn’t have. But if we course-correct from here on out and are never seen talking or fraternizing with each other, he’ll forget all about it. At most, he’s probably worried that we’re dating or something. They say that pregnant tributes are a pain in the ass to deal with.”
Nathan makes a face. “Gross.”
“Right?” My lips curl in a grimace. “But it’s better to let him believe that you’re a scorned lover than an idiot brother.”
He narrows his eyes at me, then laughs, his tired eyes warming. “I really did miss you, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, shoving at his shoulder affectionately. “I missed you too. Idiot.”
He hugs me again, and I let myself cling to him for a few long seconds. He is an idiot. And a fuckup. But he’s my brother, and I meant it when I said he doesn’t deserve this. There’s a lot of shit I’ve done wrong when it comes to Nathan, but I’m going to fix it all. Somehow.
After we break apart, I turn away quickly so he won’t see the tears glistening in my eyes. He’s enough of a mess already. I don’t need him worrying about my emotional state and getting himself even more stressed out than he is.
I head over to the door and press my ear against it, listening intently, but I can’t pick up any sounds in the hall.
Nathan shoves me aside gently and opens the door, sticks his head out in the hallway, and looks both ways. He mouths “clear” at me and gets out of the way so I can do my own check. He’s right, it is clear. I don’t look back to see if he’s doing the I-told-you-so face. I already know he is.
I’m on high alert as I pad silently down the corridor back toward the female tributes’ wing. As I creep past the closed doors, I realize that although Nathan and I were being quiet, we should’ve kept our voices even lower. I can hear the guy in the last room snoring, and I don’t even have vampire-sharp hearing. Hopefully the guard didn’t pass by on his rounds. But if he did and heard a woman’s voice, I’m pretty sure he would’ve busted into the room.
That thought eases the knot of worry in my chest. I’m being careful, and the vampire guards definitely don’t seem to be all that on-edge or alert. Probably because they know how tightly the whole palace is locked down.
Just as I turn down a hallway, leaving the men’s wing behind, the hair at the back of my neck prickles.
I freeze, sensing something.
But before I have a second to figure out what it is or even to react at all, strong arms grab my shoulders.
Chapter Eleven
Yanked off-course and pinned against a wall, my first instinct is to smash my head into the face of whoever’s holding me.
I barely restrain myself. All of my nerves are on fire, my muscles twisting with conflicting instincts, until I smell it. The coppery tang of blood, and something sweet and rich, like mulled wine.
Vampire.
My hunter’s focus rises above everything else, allowing me to calm my heart and my breath as I zero in on my prey. Prey that just happens to have me pinned up against a wall, but I’ve been in worse spots and still won the fight in the end.
I lift my head to meet my captor’s gaze and find myself staring at my own reflection in a pair of pale gray eyes. The same pale gray eyes that were watching me all freaking night.
Prince Bastian.
Fuck.
He’s got me pinned in with his body. He isn’t hurting me, but he’s damn sure not letting me get away. He pulls back and cocks his head, looking at me curiously. Hell, I’d be looking at me sideways too. I can’t remember the last time a vampire got the drop on me like this.
But this one is silent as the grave. I didn’t hear him coming, didn’t sense him coming. It’s like he materialized out of thin fucking air.
“Your heartbeat was faster in the great hall, when your safety was guaranteed,” he murmurs, his thick brows pulling together a little as he studies me. “Why aren’t you more frightened now?”
Fuck. I don’t know how to answer that. At least, not without explaining that I’m a vampire hunter in my other life and have trained my body to stay calm during a fight. Think, bitch, think.
“I—I was just so awed and overwhelmed before, with all the luxury and power and—” I’m not making any sense. That’s fine, I’m supposed to be a senseless groupie, right? “And, um, all the vampires.”
Bastian cocks an eyebrow and twists his mouth. “Awed and overwhelmed. Of course.”
Yeah, he’s not buying this for a second. He glances down the hallway, back the way I came from, then turns that icy stare back at me. “So awed and overwhelmed you had to take to the hallways, alone and unescorted, in the dead of night. What were you doing, tribute?”
He doesn’t say it like a slur, but it sure feels like one. Maybe I’m projecting, but I don’t care. Fuck this asshole.
“I was trying to find a bathroom.” I know it’s the wrong thing to say as soon as it’s out of my mouth. He must be aware that Anastasyia shows all of the tributes where their bathrooms are right away.
He actually laughs. It’s a surprisingly human sound, but that doesn’t make it any less creepy. He cuts his laugh off short, giving me a flat glare. “Do you prefer urinals, then, or just the men who use them?”
Crap
