Page 65 of Forsaking All Others

“Attacked?” He stares at me as though I’ve gone mad.

“Yes. Perhaps a fan wanting a particular outcome. Who knows? Catriona was injected with something. I need to question her without the cameras. When I’m satisfied, I’ll allow you in to do your worst.”

“We can’t film anything about the attack. The producers will want this one covered up just like the others,” he says, shrugging. “But if Catriona is involved, that figures.”

“Figures how?”

“Ah, didn’t I tell you? I’m sure I mentioned it…”

“Mr Dott, my patience grows thin.”

“Right, ah, well, we thought, security and the selectors that is, that the cartel must be involved in some way with the attacks, since we hadn’t had any problems since the Mexican took a bullet in the brain. But apparently there have been suggestions that the Italian is in some way compromised.”

“Compromised how?” I frown.

“Not entirely sure of the details,” he shrugs, “but there’s a push to have her eliminated sooner rather than later. I thought you knew this and that’s why you bit her in Seville, but then you stopped, so…” he shrugs.

“Mr Dott, you told me nothing of the sort.”

“Well, I have now…”

“When you say a ‘push’ to have her eliminated, are you suggesting the show is going to be rigged somehow?”

“God no,” he looks sincerely shocked at my suggestion, which strikes me as ridiculous given the history of this Game. “No, no, no. We were just going to let nature take its course. But certainly we’d encourage you to deepen your connection with other contestants, if possible.”

“Encourage how?”

“Oh, ah, you know, romantic ways.”

“Mr Dott,” I bare my fangs, allowing them to run all the way out, “I don’t have time for your bullshit right now. Run along before I give you a demonstration of my romantic ways with men.”

“Ugh,” he shivers as I lean close and pretend to sniff near his throat. “Please, Viscount, that won’t be necessary. Just one quick reunion scene?” He adds hopefully.

“You heard what I said,” I snap, withdrawing my fangs and turning from him. “Go interview the other contestants; I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to make the most out of Valérie’s hysteria.”

Sighing, he and the camera crew turn to follow the guards.

Striding back into Catriona’s room I hurl a chair at the camera in the top right-hand corner of the room, smashing it to bits, before spinning back to her.

She doesn’t seem alarmed, but her face is very pale. A sheen of sweat is beading her top lip, and her heart is thundering.

Fortunately for her, and me, she’s stopped bleeding. The dead man’s blood is the only thing I can smell in the room. Still, I’m not taking any chances.

“Now,” I say quietly as I move to pull up another chair next to her bed and withdraw a white silk ribbon from my pocket, deftly wrapping it around the scars on her throat. “Talk.”

51

I stiffen as he leans close and gently lifts my head from the pillow to wrap the silk ribbon around my throat.

I feel dizzy, odd, but now that the threat has passed, my mind is clearing. I imagine I’d only received a small dose of whatever the fake doctor had tried to inject into me, which I think was most likely just something to knock me out.

My family doesn’t want me dead. I’m special. The only woman of childbearing age in my bloodline.

They need me.

As he ties the ribbon his motion is quick, but careful, and his breath stirs the curls near my ear, making me shudder. His proximity makes me nervous and tingly, and it’s not something I’ve ever felt with anyone before. I wonder if it’s just adrenaline caused by fear of his bite, but deep down I can’t help recalling the other feelings that bite promoted. Things I don’t understand and don’t want to think about. Right now I need to try to focus on the ribbon. I thought he insisted upon it because he didn’t want to bite me. But if he’s been killing contestants, then I need to know if I’m, ribbon or no, in imminent danger of being sucked.

“You said you weren’t going to kill any contestants,” I blurt, trying both to distract him from whatever it is he wants to know and to find out what the hell had changed since we last spoke.