“Oh, I know how to handle you just fine,” he said, and the familiar sneer crossed his face, full of arrogance, sharpened like a blade aimed at my pride. It was his mask, the one he wore each time he sensed his vulnerability creeping too close to the surface, as if it would kill him to show any semblance of softness. The sneering vampire was back in full force, his contempt practically tangible, swirling between us like a thick mist. And yet, for all his biting remarks and perpetual ...