Page 21 of Vamp CEO Bit You Where?

"No." It's the one answer I never have to weigh. "Not in a very long time. I take what I need through controlled channels—medical supply, screened, given willingly. There's a physician who arranges it. That's all I can say about her, because more than that puts her at risk, and you because my world doesn't take kindly to humans knowing."

I watch her decide whether to believe me. I don't help. Belief I argue her into is worthless.

"Then answer this." Her arms come around herself, and not from cold. "Every late night. Every car you sent. All those months alone in a room with you, and I never knew what you were. Was I ever safe? Even once?"

"You were never in danger from me." I hold her gaze for the piece she deserves most. "Which is its own strangeness, and you should know why. The first time you walked into that interview, I knew you. Not your name. Your body. I could hear your heartbeat before you entered. I still can. Your warmth changes how the air sits around me. From that first moment, I realized that I would stand between you and everything that could ever hurt you. It's strong enough for me to feel everything you feel. I don't hear your thoughts, or your choices though."

"How is that possible?"

"A bond. Rare. Old. You and I didn't create it. Vampires didn't either." I don't soften what comes next. "My kind call it a mate. Basically, you're mine."

She presses back into the brick. "So I don't get a say. Some—biology decided, and now I belong to?—"

"No." The word leaves me too hard, and I pull it back down. "Listen, because this matters more than the rest. The bond isthere, but isn't a leash I get to put on you. It doesn't give me your body. I can't choose anything for you. It doesn't make you owe me anything. It just tells me when you're in danger before you know it yourself. It makes leaving you nearly impossible for me."

"And if I walk." Her eyes are bright and furious. "Right now. Out of that company, out of your life, and I never look at you again."

"Then you walk." Saying it is like losing a piece of me. "I won't follow to punish you. I won't cause a problem. I'd let you go, if that's what you truly want."

She studies me like she's analyzing everything she just learned. Deciding if I'm a man she can be around or a man she should expose. For a moment I'm certain she'll go. Her weight shifts toward traffic, toward the light, toward home.

She doesn't.

"I need time." Her voice shakes. She moves, then turns back, and what she gives me is harder than her fear. "Soon. No gaps. Every choice you made that involves me. You're going to admit it all."

"I will."

"Right now, I just want the truth."

Then she's gone, into the light, and I stay here where I belong, and I remain where the streetlamp doesn't reach.

15

JASMINE

Sebastian presses his palm to a blank panel in the elevator that I had no clue was there, and instead of rising upward, we sink.

"Two levels down," he says. "Under the garage."

I watch the floor count run backward and say nothing. Four days ago I stopped answering his calls. This morning I sent one text —Show me more— and here I am, descending in a skyscraper I never knew had a bottom.

The doors unlatch, revealing a long corridor that is dark and gloomy. No glass walls. No breakroom noise. No office vibe. Just concrete and steel, doors set flush into walls with seams so tight the hinges are invisible.

"All this time," I say. "Under my feet."

"Yes."

"While I was upstairs cleaning up your travel itineraries."

"Yes."

I hate that he doesn't apologize for it. I hate more that I'd trust him less if he did. A door swings to my left. Gideon, head of security waits, and nods at me. The other, I've only passed: lean, dark-haired, eyes the color of weak tea.

"Jasmine Carter," Sebastian says. "Gideon Ward. Elias Knox."

I don't offer my hand. Neither do they. I hug myself to feel warm, while none of them seem to feel it.

"So," I say. "You're all —"