Book 4: Boxed In

Michael

I carefully pluck Matilda’s cold fingers from my shirt. “Where’s your fiance?”

“Hell if I know,” she replies smoothly, her full lips curving at the edges. “Not around, obviously. He’s keeping his distance.”

I want to say that I don’t blame him. Something about her makes me want to crawl out of my skin. I’m used to vampires touching me. Their coldness doesn’t bother me. If it’s been a while since I’ve had blood, even as a hybrid, my body temperature drops as well, but she’s cold as ice as her fingers catch mine. “Why don’t you give me a tour?”

“I don’t have time,” I say with more force than I mean. I yank my fingers out of her grasp, tucking my hands in my pockets and taking a calculated step away from her. She smirks, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. 

“This court is so boring. There’s nothing to do. No one to eat.”

“I’m sure you’ve been told where the feeders are kept. You could ring for a glass of blood at any time.”