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“Where are you going?” Stephen’s hand closed on my upper arm and he jerked me to a stop before I reached the staircase, wrenching me back around to face him.
I guess he was also done with being pleasant.
“Let go of me!” I snarled, trying to fight the burning sting of tears in my eyes.
Unfortunately, no protective zapping occurred to blast him back from me like it had this morning with Kraven.
I half expected his eyes to glow red like the demon’s had, but they remained the same caramel color as always. “I have some questions for you, too, Samantha. You can’t just walk away from me yet.”
I looked around at the other kids for help, but they still weren’t paying attention to us. Considering our heated discussion and the fact he was now physically restraining me from leaving, that surprised me.
“Help!” I called out, loud enough to be heard over the constant musical background to Crave. “He won’t let me leave!”
“Don’t bother,” Stephen said. “They’re all with me—my new brothers and sisters. Your new brothers and sisters.”
A gasp caught in my throat. “But they look so normal.”
“They’re better than normal.”
A second glance showed they were all very attractive, well dressed and had an air of self-confidence. Stephen had said losing your soul was a freeing experience. Looked like these grays agreed with him.
If that was so, then why didn’t I feel that way?
“Now, my question…” He pulled me closer. “Who have you been talking to about this since Friday night? I need to know.”
“Why do you care?”
“If there’s someone out there with knowledge of us, they might not understand. They might try to get in the way. She won’t like that.” His grip tightened. I tried to pull away but I couldn’t. “Answer me, Samantha. Who were you talking to?”
“She was talking to me.”
I whipped my head around. Bishop was standing at the top of the stairs. Our eyes met and held for a brief but intense moment before he shifted his focus to Stephen.
“Who the hell are you?” Stephen snapped.
“Let Samantha go and maybe we’ll talk about it.”
Stephen released me. His tight grip had left a red imprint on my skin. His angry expression shifted to neutral as he eyed Bishop.
“There,” he said pleasantly. “I let her go.”
“You grab girls a lot around here?” Bishop glanced around the lounge area.
Stephen smirked. “Usually it’s the other way around.”
“How nice for you. So you’re the one who did this to her, aren’t you?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Bishop’s gaze flicked to me as I rubbed my arm. “You okay?”
While I was glad he’d gotten Stephen to let go of me, I wasn’t running into Bishop’s arms with gratitude. “Did you follow me here?”
“Something like that.”
I let out a frustrated groan. “Can’t anyone just talk to me straight? Why is everyone avoiding my damn questions tonight?”
Bishop’s brows went up. “Okay, fine. Yes, I followed you here. Better?”
“Yes. Stalkery, but better.”
“I’m not stalking you.”
“Spoken like a true stalker.”
“So let me start again.” Stephen eyed Bishop with distaste. “Who are you and what do you want?”
There was nothing pleasant about the way Bishop studied him back. In fact, he looked predatory. “You’re the one who kissed Samantha, aren’t you?”
Again, Stephen didn’t seem inclined to answer that particular question, so I did it for him.
“It was him,” I said. “Here on Friday night.”
Bishop’s glare turned into a glower. “Why wouldn’t you explain what it meant to her? What she could expect? It was the least you could do.”
“Luckily for her, you filled her in on the details. Didn’t you?” Stephen walked an appraising circle around Bishop. “I don’t know you. You’re not one of us, which makes me wonder what business it is of yours what I do.”
“Trust me, it’s my business.”
Stephen shrugged. “She liked it. She was practically begging me to kiss her.”
He was such a jerk. Begging? Hardly.
A muscle in Bishop’s cheek twitched. “She didn’t understand what it meant.”
“She’s with me now.” Stephen drew closer, as if challenging Bishop to push him back. “You got a problem with that?”
“Excuse me?” I snapped. “I’m with you? Not the last time I checked.”
He gave me an amused look. “You’ll get used to the idea eventually. Be happy about it, even.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“Where’s the Source?” Bishop asked evenly. “Is it you?”
Stephen didn’t speak for a moment, but then he laughed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. The one who created you. Created all of you. I need to talk to him or her. Soon. We have important things to discuss.”
Stephen grabbed hold of the front of Bishop’s T-shirt. “No, what I think you need to do is leave now. And Samantha is going to stay right here with me, where she belongs. Give her a few minutes and she’ll be enjoying herself. She might be only seventeen, but that’s more than old enough for the fun I have planned for her.”