Page 33 of The Vampire's Lament
Some of his golden hair had regrown. There were fewer of the sore, bald patches across his scalp now.
I didn’t answer, keeping my teeth clamped down on my bottom lip.
The wind gusting into the house billowed his rags. “Oh, Paris. There’s no need to be so scared.”
Maggots crawled around his feet, falling from his mouth like snow every few seconds.
I retched. “You…you tried to kill me.”
He waved a dismissive hand, taking a further step into the house. “Everyone makes mistakes.”
Really? That was his answer.
“Anger clouded my judgment,” he continued, those golden peepers inspecting the room.
Kill him…
“But I’ll do better,” he said.
“Doubt it.”
“And you can help with my convalescence,” he countered, ignoring my retort.
Man, that grin of his was pure malice.
I lifted the blade. “I’d rather eat pig shit than help you.”
He laughed, the sound like a malfunctioning drill. “Is that so?” His eyes fell on my dagger. “What is that thing?”
My chest tightened painfully. “You don’t know?”
He cocked his head. “Why would I know?”
“You’re a deity, right?”
“The best to ever exist.” His grin widened, a snowstorm of maggots pattering on the floor. “But sometimes things slip through the net.”
How was I not puking my guts up?
“You don’t look too well,” he said.
“Fuck you.”
Drawing on all my resources, and using the essence of the flora around me, I straightened my spine, preparing for battle. This prick wouldn’t survive the night. Deity or not, the fucker was a corpse. And corpses in this state weren’t exactly made of steel.
Unless he is…
Ugh. Damn doubt.
“Anyway, I’m here to get something from you,” he threw out, folding his arms behind his back.
“I’ve got nothing to give you, other than death.”
He found that hilarious. “You can’t kill me, Paris Raine.”
I hated his laughter and his mocking arrogance. “I’ll give it my best shot.”
“Is that so? Then come at me.” He opened his arms again.
