Page 42 of Twice Bitten

“Sometimes. I like what I like and can rarely be swayed from that path.”

We stopped before a large room with a single rectangular table in the center. A large bouquet of flowers sat in the middle—peonies, roses, and lilies of several different varietiesin the vase. There were two empty chairs, one at the head of the table and the other to the left-hand side.

Two place settings had been laid out at each seat.

It really was just the two of us. The Prime was always featured with a gaggle of people around him, adoring sycophants who hung on his every word. Where were they now when I desperately needed them?

Well, shit.

Alric held out the chair on the left. I hiked up my dress and settled down, smoothing my skirts around my legs once I was in my seat. He took the chair at the head of the table.

“You like gemstones,” Alric said, “colorful ones. Prehnite, amethyst, citrine, sapphire, labradorite, and occasionally topaz. Not diamonds.” He cocked his head. “Never diamonds.”

I swallowed hard and said nothing. True. Diamonds were made of suffering and cruelty. They were a rich man’s stone, designed to show off wealth and privilege, no matter that their gathering came at great cost to the person barely paid slave wages to mine them, not to mention the damage those operations caused to the environment.

Millionaires didn’t wear prehnite or quartz or labradorite—they were the gems of a lesser person.

“You shop at thrift stores and like natural fibers and handmade items. Your style is eclectic yet cozy. You run cold and like sweaters.”

“Don’t be creepy,” I snapped. “I’d be a fool not to realize you’ve been watching me, but you don’t have to rub it in my face.”

Alric held up his hand. I turned to see several people holding trays frozen in place.

“A moment,” he murmured.

They turned as one and disappeared into the next room.

My lips thinned. “You can call them back. I didn’t mean to interrupt them.”

“No. You find me disturbing. I wish to dissect this.” A lock of golden hair fell onto his forehead, giving him a boyish air. I clenched my fists in my lap to keep from brushing it away.

I didn’t respond to his statement. I found him disturbing because he thought he could lay out a dossier on me and assume that meant he knew who I was. “You’re the Vampire Prime. Why am I here?”

“How did you survive?” His gaze was steady, but his eyes burned with curiosity.

“Luck. No thanks to you.”

Alric flicked his fingers. The servers returned once more. Someone poured wine in my glass. Another set a steaming bowl of soup before me. Yet another snapped a napkin and laid it across my lap. Someone else brought a crystal glass filled with water.

Again, they disappeared as one.

“Please,” Alric said. “Eat.”

I glared and waited for him to pick up his spoon. Alric’s lips twitched. He dug into his bowl and took a mouthful.

I had no idea what I was eating, but I hated that the soup was delicious. Smooth and savory, I tasted butternut and carrot, with a touch of cinnamon and allspice. The flavors seemed a little off-season—we were in spring, not fall—but autumn was my favorite season.

I hated that Alric seemed to know that about me too.

When my bowl was clean, I set my spoon down and dabbed at my mouth with the napkin.

“Luck,” Alric mused. “Your pulse was close to zero when we left you.”

“I’m aware,” I said dryly.

“Even as a witch, you shouldn’t have survived.”

There was no way in hell I planned to tell him about my unlikely rescuers. “Maybe you should have finished meoff then.”