Sinjin, A Vampire Romance

Chapter Seven

BRYN

There was a momentary glimpse of surprise in Sinjin's eyes before a smile of amusement overtook his lips. A second or so later, he withdrew from my wrist and licked the remnants of my blood from his mouth. With his eyes narrowed on me and his fangs extended, he appeared intimidating by anyone's account. But, even worse, he was sexy.

God, Bryn, really? I berated myself. This asshole just fed on you, causing you a huge amount of pain, and you're thinking he's sexy? Really?!

I inwardly shook my head in disgust at myself. I must be losing my mind. Big time.

Even though I tried not to notice that Sinjin was an incredibly attractive man, the debate over whether or not he was sexy was moot. He was the epitome of sexy and there was no denying that. No matter how hard I tried. But, the fact that he was a complete and total bastard as well seemed to balance out his more estimable attributes.

We both watched a trickle of blood trailing from each of Sinjin's fang marks on my wrist, as they coursed their way down my arm. I immediately focused on the two gaping holes and imagined them surrounded by a white, healing light. My wrist felt warm beneath my intent gaze, which meant it was working—I was healing myself. I watched as the holes in my flesh began knitting themselves back together. Another few seconds, and my wounds were just a thing of the past.

"Impressive," Sinjin commented with a devil's smile as he looked down at me from his imposing height. I wasn't sure if it was just a trick of my eyes, but he appeared revived somehow. His cheeks seemed to have a certain healthy rosiness to them, which they hadn't possessed before. If I hadn't known better, I might have thought my blood was somehow invigorating him. But I knew enough of vampires to know that blood didn't affect them in the same way that nutritious food did for humans. Blood was simply a means to an end for a vampire: pure sustenance and nothing more. And all types of blood had exactly the same effect for them—it wasn't like one type was better than another.

Why then, did it seem like my blood was having some sort of reaction in Sinjin? Not only was there more color in his skin, which, even now, was continuing to build, but his eyes also seemed a brighter shade of light blue. Or maybe I was just imagining all of it ...

"Are you all right, Bryn?" Jolie asked, facing me with a concerned look in her eyes.

"I'm fine," I snapped in response, not appreciating anyone's pity. I wasn't used to seeing sympathy in other people's eyes, and didn't want anyone to start that crap now. I was strong and capable. There was no reason for anyone to feel sorry for me.

"Sinjin, how long will her blood last inside you for ... tracking purposes?" Jolie continued. She was now facing the bastard of a vampire who was still looking at me like I was a Hershey's kiss and he was on his period.

"Perhaps a fortnight," Sinjin replied, his eyes still riveted on mine, narrowing on me with an expression of curiosity. Yes, Sinjin looked surprised. And I didn't imagine surprise was something that happened to him very often. Meeting his gaze, I tried to read him, and breach that wall of defense again; but just as before, I was unsuccessful. However, I managed to pick up the tiniest afterthought from him. It was more like the whisper of a feeling. And that feeling, just as I'd discerned in his gaze, was surprise. As to why he was surprised, I had no clue.

"Two weeks?" Jolie repeated, breaking my concentration.

"Yes," Sinjin answered, never pulling his attention from me. "At that time, necessity dictates my feeding from you again, my fierce, little pet."

I didn't say anything as I took a deep breath, despising the idea that Sinjin would feed on me again in the future, and most likely, every two weeks from here on out. It just heightened my need to escape my imprisonment. I still couldn't understand why I hadn't heard a peep from Luce. Even though I tried to reassure myself that whatever was or wasn't happening was all part of his grand plan, it really didn't lessen my worry or anxiety. Was it possible that I had inadvertently disappointed Luce in some way for which my punishment was abandonment? Had I been the only one left on the battlefield because he no longer considered me one of his people? The thoughts were too painful for me to bear, so I pushed them aside, focusing instead on my present predicament.