"No-" I said involuntarily as the sensation was cut off. I needed-I needed it back. I needed him.
What was wrong with me?
I turned my bewildered gaze to Mr. Thorne. His face was still as pale as ivory, but there was a dark glitter in his hooded eyes that matched my need and sent my heart skittering out of control.
"What did you do to me?" I whispered.
"You would say yes," he said, the dark hunger of his voice tinged with an infinite sadness as he stood and discarded the used needle, setting the blood collection tube upon the desk. "If I told you right now that I knew you would die, you would still say yes."
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, even as my body said, I would-to anything, anything at all...
He bent over me, and I tried not to notice the scent of him. He touched the bead of blood that had formed upon the needle's exit. I could hear his breathing now-irregular as mine had become. With the tip of his forefinger, he scooped up the droplet, holding it suspended just as he held me with the force of his regard.
A shudder went through his frame, and he curled his fingers into a fist, smearing the blood across his palm. Suddenly, he seemed to grow, as if some darkness were uncurling inside him, extending past the limits of flesh and bone.
"Go," he ground out. "Go now, before I damn my best intentions."
It was as if some invisible bonds that had been holding me to my chair had been broken. I sprang up, snatched up my jacket, and fled, banging through the tall mahogany doors and not stopping until I jabbed the down button on the elevator.
"Goodbye, Miss Shaw," the secretary said unconcernedly from behind her desk. "You can expect the results within a week."
The door slid open, and I stumbled into the elevator compartment, slapping at the ground floor button frantically until the doors finally, reluctantly closed.