She looked back at her savior and breathed, “Blackwell.” He grinned in satisfaction. “How do you feel?” “Okay…” she trailed off, rubbing at her temples where a headache was beginning to form. “If you hadn’t come to help—” “But I did,” he said. “Now, here’s the catch of this trial—you can’t get out of here until you perform a task themed after the type of lust you chose.” “What does that mean?” “It means that because you selected Bloodlust as your vice, you have to drink someone’s blood and let them drink yours,” he deadpanned. “Now, if you want me to help you choose someone—” “No,” she
...more
