Daughter of Night (A Daughter of Nyx novel)

Chapter Twelve

"Are you going to kill Bianca?"

"Are you going to try to protect her?"

"Can I?"

"You could take her place."

"I wish I could see your eyes."

"Why?"

"So I can tell you to fuck off to your face."

His laughter filled the car, dark and menacing and still so... inviting.

"No, I have no plans to kill her. Our arrangement, so far, has worked out very well. She gets what she wants and I get what I need," he said and then asked the question she knew he was going to ask. "Why did you cry?"

But she had her answer ready. "You don't know me well enough for that."

"Can we change that?"

She laughed. It was unexpected, surprising her. But then, so was the bitterness that she fought and lost to.

"No, Elliot. You don't get to to that. You can't use my words against me."

"You used mine."

"Because yours were true. They aren't mine, asking for something that I didn't know would never happen. That your reply of 'perhaps' was going to end up with you doing your absolute best to scare me away from you." She pulled her hand from his and took a deep breath. "I'm not going to give you any more important answers until I get some answers of my own."

"The reason you cried is important?"

"I've been an emotional wreck since I met you. But once upon a time, I didn't cry. So, when I do, the reason for the tears means a lot to me."

"Very important."

She cursed herself. Of course he would pick up on that.

"To me. Not at all to you."

"You don't know that."

She looked at him until he glanced at her. This was the only answer he was going to get. Finally, his eyes met hers. "I bet my life on it."

~~~

The next night, she cautiously stepped out of her room. Once again, dressed as an assassin, she crept down the hallway. The complete sense of dejavu crept over her and she knew what she turned the corner into the living room, she knew that she was going to find Bianca sitting across his lap. Only... she wasn't.

Elliot was there with no sign of Nikolas.

Elliot, sitting on the sofa, eyes on the door, hands pressed fingertip to fingertip beneath his chin. His eyes met hers and she tried to smile. Tried her damnedest, but there was something in the air. Something volatile that crawled over her skin.

He said nothing as he got to his feet. Said nothing as he took her hand and pulled her down the hall. He stopped in front of a door before he looked at her, eyes black in the lamp light. "You expect so much from me. But then, I expect more from you. You want to know about me. About my past. You are going to learn. Then, you will tell me why you cried and I can't express enough how much I want it to be worth it." His thumb traced her lip. "If this is a game, I need for you to tell me now."

"You're scaring me. I don't know that my tears are worth what you're doing."

"Oh, but your words were 'I bet my life'."

"Is that what this is? You're way to..."

"Is the reason you cried important to you or not, Chevonne? If it's important... If it keeps you awake at night. If it eats at you, then maybe I won't kill you."