Angel Blood

6- Careful, She Bites

The dress clings to my body like a second skin. It leaves nothing to the imagination, showcasing my wide hips, the small bump of my gut, and small chest over the strapless neckline.

Next to Amber, I feel like a preteen girl. She's all chest and curvy ass and flat stomach. A woman.

"Keep your chin up," she hisses at me as she slides a bright rouge over her lips. "And don't talk. You'll ruin everything with that mouth."

My hands clench as I imagine her neck between my fingers. "Can't I say the same to you?"

She snorts, glancing at me in her compact mirror. "I know my place, skank. Wish I could say the same about you."

"Do you?" I muse, recalling the look of passion on her face as she sat atop Sinclair the night prior and the betrayal shining in her eyes as he claimed me as his. "Because it looks like you like Sinclair. A lot, actually—maybe even love him. I bet you dream he could feel the same way about you, huh? But all you are is a willing hole he can suck the life out of." I know I've gone too far when the words fall from my mouth but I still don't regret them.

"You bitch." I don't even realize she's raised her hand until it's swinging toward me, connecting to my cheek with a sharp sting.

I bare my teeth at her to hide the grimace of pain that fights to rise on my face. I take a step towards her, hands clenching readily at my sides.

Oliver puts his muscled body between us. "Sit. Both of you."

Something trickles down my cheek as I begrudgingly plop down on the leather couch behind us. I brush over the sore flesh with an investigative finger, teeth grinding as it comes away glistening with red.

Another rush of liquid heat rushes to my hands, demanding I return the favor but somehow with willpower I never thought myself capable of, I restrain.

"He's going to kill you, you know," she hisses behind Oliver's large body. "Fuck you and kill you. And I can't wait for the day."

I huff as I slide back against the couch cushion. As if I don't already know he'll end me once he's bored of his new toy. But at the very least, my body will always be mine.

"It's almost time to go out. Stay quiet, both of you." Oliver sighs, the sound thick with exhaustion. "I didn't sign up for this baby-sitting bullshit."

...

Oliver ushers us out, strategically fitting himself between our bodies. I don't complain—she's a bitch and I'm too testy to keep my temper.

He leads us through the crowd to an area closed off with rope. It has a nicer bar than the one on the floor, the tables and chairs quality made.

The majority of the people lounging about are men. I only spot a few women that have an aura of power around them, the others lounging in the laps of men and evidently human.

Sinclair kicks back in a leather chair and waves me over with a lazy hand when he spots me. I barely resist the urge to shoot Amber a smug smile.

He doesn't greet me as I approach. Just racks his eyes over me, taking his time as he takes in every dip and curve of my body.

"What?" I shift warily under his eyes.

His eyes linger on the angry red marks scored across my left cheek. Sinclair leans forward, large hand reaching for my face. His fingers trail over the tender skin, sending a pleasant flurry of tingles down to my bones. Something dark flashes in his eyes. "Who did this?"

I narrowly avoid glancing at the redhead a couple tables away. "Take a guess."

His jaw clenches as he angles my head to get a better look at the wound. I don't bother trying to pull away. I know there's no chance he'll let me escape that smoldering, furious gaze.