“Maybe I have. Maybe not.”

“Leave him alone!”

Justine lifted Julian’s head to look into his unconscious face. She let his head fall again. “Oh, very well. They drained him pretty deeply. He’ll need time to recover enough so I can do it again.”

In that moment, Melly had never hated anybody as much as she hated Justine.

She forced herself to take deep, even breaths and think more or less logically. The torture session was over, at least for now, and the sooner Justine and Vampyre Guy left, the sooner she could pick her way out of her own cell and help Julian.

But she was feeling shaky from lack of proper food, too much stress and not enough rest. How much blood could she give Julian when she was like this? While she did have a little of her food stash left, a candy bar and the small bag of nuts, this situation was desperately unstable, and she needed to hold on to as many of her meager resources as she could.

She said, “If you’re going to keep me alive, I’m going to need more food and water.”

Justine stepped out of Julian’s cell, locked the door and swiveled to consider her. “I had forgotten about that. You have a point.” As she paused thoughtfully, Melly held her breath. “And no, I don’t want to get rid of you just yet. Not only have you proved useful for making Julian toe the line, but keeping you alive might prove useful in other ways as well.”

What other ways? Melly’s mind clicked into overdrive. Could Justine be planning on somehow using her against her mother?

Justine turned to Vampyre Guy. “Once you get this cleared up, see that you bring her more food and water.”

“Real food,” Melly interjected. “Not that useless gas station crap you brought the last time. And I need more batteries for the flashlight.”

Raising one eyebrow, Justine gave her a sardonic look. “Listen to you, getting all demanding.”

Lifting her chin, Melly stared back unwaveringly. “Do you want me alive or not? If you do, I need real food and water, not a candy bar here and there. And you know as well as I do that I don’t need the flashlight to survive, but I would appreciate it. Please.”

A long moment passed as the Vampyre considered her with a cold, assessing gaze. Then Justine smiled. “A ‘please,’ no less. It didn’t take long for you to learn how to sit up and beg. Maybe you’re not quite as stupid as I thought. Or at least you’re trainable.” She said to Vampyre Guy, “I think it will be so touching if she and Julian can gaze at each other from their prison cells. Be sure to bring her real food, water and more batteries. You and I have a lot to do, so make sure she has enough to last her for a couple of days. I’m not sure when we’ll make it back down here.”

“Yes, mistress,” said Vampyre Guy.

“The dogs are sated for now, but Julian’s blood will have made them faster and stronger,” Justine told him. “Be careful when you return and make sure you bring them plenty of food to keep them busy.”

So that was how she kept the feral Vampyres cooperative. As Melly thought of the people they had been feeding on when she had first discovered them, she felt sickened all over again.

Vampyre Guy glanced over his shoulder toward the gate. His eyes were wide, and he looked none too happy at the thought of returning alone. “Are you sure you won’t come back with me? They’re afraid of you, and they’re easier to manage when you’re here.”

Justine gave him an impatient look. “Grow a pair and deal with it. Right now I have more important things to do than hold your hand.”

He ducked his head. “Yes, mistress.”

Justine strode away. Down the tunnel, the iron gate creaked and clanged again. Melly listened to her footsteps recede in the distance while she watched Vampyre Guy get back to work. It didn’t take him long to finish packing up.

She glanced at Julian. He still hadn’t stirred. Stifling her worry, she leaned a shoulder against one of the bars and said to Vampyre Guy, “She’s not very nice to you, is she?”

He snapped, “She’s my sire. She doesn’t have to be nice.”

She shrugged. “I get it. She tells you what to do, and you have to do it. Still, a little appreciation would be nice, wouldn’t it? I mean, you’re clearly carrying most of the load here, aren’t you?”

Vampyre Guy gave her a scathing look. “What do you care?”

That was her cue to call on what acting skills she had. Melly turned her full attention onto him, met his gaze and gave him a slow smile. The Light Fae were a charismatic people, which was one of the reasons why they thrived so well in the entertainment industry, and Melly had more than her fair share of the attribute.

She watched him blink rapidly as the impact hit him. Yeah, she thought, I might never win no Oscars, but I still got something, babe.

She told him in a soft, sincere voice, “When I asked for more food and water, I didn’t realize it might put you in danger. I’m awfully sorry.”

With an obvious effort, he dragged his gaze away from hers. “You didn’t know,” he muttered. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Still,” she said, “It’s really good of you to get it. I — I can’t imagine how dangerous those Vampyres are, or how hard it is to deal with them.”

He jerked a shoulder as if to shrug off her words, but after a moment, he said almost grudgingly, “You’ve got to keep on your toes with them, and know how to respond if they don’t behave on command. If I didn’t have such fast reflexes and upper body strength, I wouldn’t be able to do it.”

Melly widened her eyes and let the expression turn melting — just a little. Not too much, too soon. After all, they were on opposite sides of the cell bars, and she didn’t want to lose his credulity.

She told him, “Well, I don’t know how you do it. They scare me to death. I haven’t been able to rest at all with them snarling and clawing at me between the bars. Can you leave the gate closed when you go?”

He finished collecting the gear in a pack and hoisted it onto his shoulder, picked up the camping lantern, then turned to her. “I’m supposed to let them loose in here while I’m gone, but it’s not like you can break out of your cell anyway.”

Quickly she switched her melting look into a more helpless expression as she shook her head. “No, I can’t, can I?”

He tilted his head and jerked his chin toward the direction Justine had disappeared. “I’ll lock the gate so they won’t bother you too much.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, holding out a hand toward him — again, not too much, just a brief flutter of fingers before she dropped them again.

Vampyre Guy took a step toward her. She didn’t think he was even aware of doing it. “So, I guess I’m out of the habit of buying food. Is there anything you want?”

Oh for crying out loud, now she had to go and wonder…

Is he one of Justine’s victims too, or an asshole? Or is he a victim who also happened to be an asshole? Or am I starting to suffer from a dose of Stockholm Syndrome?

The dial on her people-reading meter hovered somewhere in the uncertain zone.

“I’d kill for a chicken sandwich,” she said, giving him a small smile. “And some cheese and fruit, please. Maybe some granola? Oh, and just so you know — I didn’t mean to put down the candy you brought. The chocolate bars were really terrific. They just aren’t enough sustenance.”

Her sharp gaze picked up how he straightened under the praise.

“I can pick up more chocolate,” he said. “It’ll be a little while before I can get back. Not only do I have to go to the store, but I have to hunt down some people to throw to the wolves to keep them occupied while I come back down here.”

The utter lack of remorse or any true feeling with which Vampyre Guy said it sent her dial swinging deeply into the red. Victim or not, he was an asshole. She lost all compunction for manipulating and/or staking him if the situation called for it.

Instantly, she clamped down on her self-control and kept her expression soft and sweet.