“Beg for it,” I tell her softly. For the briefest second, her eyes narrow, and I realize I have forgotten she is a threat; all of this is a risk. Stabbing Michael, getting involved with something as volatile as Cora, the entire thing could so easily come crashing down around me. I should bolt; leave Cora to deal with her own chaos, and I could disappear into the American abyss, reappear as someone else, and slate my bloodthirst in such a way that would allow me to continue as long as I desired. This is how you get caught. Being careless, being involved, being known.
