“Not really,” he replied, his dark eyes narrowing. “Did killing that human make you feel better, Zay?” Disapproval underlined every word, even his chosen nickname for me.
I handed the glass back to Grigory with a quick shake to signify that I wanted more.
“It’s Zaya,” I reminded him for the millionth time. “And yes, I feel much better.”
I poured Zaya another glass from my decanter, then held it out for her.
She took it, guzzling the contents greedily.
Drinking blood had curled her nose at first, but she’d eventually learned to tolerate it. With my essence thriving through her veins, she required the mortal sustenance to survive. Something she’d not bothered to consider tonight when she killed a human male for sport.
Oh, he’d deserved his fate.
That wasn’t what angered me.
It was her poor execution that infuriated me.
I waited for her to return the glass, then I set it to the side and took in her bloody clothes. “You’re filthy,” I told her.
“Gee, thanks, Grigory. You always were a sweet talker.” She rolled her eyes and turned away from me, but I caught her wrist and yanked her back.
Her opposite fist came for my nose in retaliation, and I caught it in midair before twisting it and easily bringing her to her knees. She yelped in pain, but I didn’t let up, instead leaning down to where she knelt at my feet with her back to my front.
“You defied my orders,” I said against her ear. “Men have died for less.”
She bristled at that. “I’m not afraid of you, Grigory.”
“I know.” It was something I liked about her, even when it fueled her obstinate side. “But you put yourself at risk tonight, and that’s not something I can easily forgive, Zaya.” I purposely used her full name, not her nickname, knowing it would drive home my point.
“I’m fine,” she snapped. “He barely put up a fight.”
“Fine,” I repeated, incredulous. “Did you go back to the scene and clean up?” I asked her. “Did you ensure no one actually saw you? Heard you? Hell, did you even notice the cameras that videotaped your every move?” I released her and snatched the chain of her necklace, snapping it with ease, and pocketed the stolen charm.
“Hey!” She spun around and up onto her heels, ready to fight again.
“What?” I retorted, bored already. “You think I don’t know this is stolen, Zaya? The damn thing belongs to my mother. You’re lucky I caught you with it and not her.”
Zaya just glared at me. “Maybe she gave it to me.”
“She didn’t.”
The little brat challenged me with a look. “How do you know?”
“Because she didn’t,” I replied, done with this asinine tangent. “You cut off your hair, dyed it blue, stole my mother’s charm, then fucked off to the human realm in a poor attempt to prove me wrong about your readiness. However, all you did was prove me right. You’re not fucking ready, Zay.”
“Tell that to the dick I just killed,” she countered, arching a haughty brow.
I snorted. “Killing a human is child’s play, sweetheart.”
“He pulled a knife on me.”
“Yeah, a knife you left behind at the crime scene,” I drawled, pulling said weapon from my pocket to toss at her heel-clad feet. “As well as a shit ton of blood—some of which was yours, by the way—and three key witnesses. Do you think humans are fucking deaf, Zay? They could hear that asshole’s bellows through the damn walls.”
For a halfling with a human father, I expected her to at least know a little about the mortal realm and their politics, but she proved to me tonight that she didn’t have a damn clue what she was doing.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, irritated as fuck by the disaster she nearly caused. Had I not followed her to the bar and cleaned up after her, it would have been a right mess indeed.
Mortal authorities were a pain in the ass.