Chapter Twenty-Three
Valentine stared at me, a smirk splitting his face, and as I looked into the emotionless crimson pools that were his eyes, it was impossible to forget the vampire was literally a cold-blooded killer.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I was. Valentine chuckled.
My palms were slick with sweat, and my throat had tightened so much it hurt to swallow. I didn’t know the extent of Valentine’s powers, but I knew he could shred me like a piece of paper if he really wanted.
Valentine sniffed at the air and unfastened the first few buttons on the black suit jacket he wore like he was getting ready to move.
“You smell as frightened of me as ever,” he said.
“I’m not,” I insisted. Valentine clucked his tongue and shook his head.
