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"Rose!" exclaimed Mason.
I ignored him and looked beseechingly at Isaiah. I didn't want him to feed off me. The thought
made me sick. But I had given blood before, and I'd rather him take pints from me before he
touched Eddie or Mason.
I couldn't read his expression as he sized me up. For half a second, I thought he might go for it,
but instead he shook his head.
"No. Not you. Not yet."
He walked over and stood before Eddie. I pulled against my flex-cuffs so hard that they dug
painfully into my skin. They didn't give. "No! Leave him alone!"
"Quiet," snapped Isaiah, without looking at me. He rested one hand on the side of Eddie's face.
Eddie trembled and had gone so pale, I thought he would faint. "I can make this easy, or I can
make it hurt. Your silence will encourage the former."
I wanted to scream, wanted to call Isaiah all sorts of names and make all sorts of threats. But I
couldn't. My eyes flicked around the room, searching for exits, as I had so many times before.
But there were none. Just blank, bare white walls. No windows. The one precious door, always
guarded. I was helpless, just as helpless as I'd been from the moment they'd pulled us into the
van. I felt like crying, more from frustration than fear. What kind of guardian would I be if I
couldn't protect my friends?
But I stayed quiet, and a look of satisfaction crossed Isaiah's face. The fluorescent lighting gave
his skin a sickly, grayish hue, emphasizing the dark circles under his eyes. I wanted to punch
him.
"Good." He smiled at Eddie and held his face so that the two made direct eye contact. "Now,
you won't fight me, will you?"
As I've mentioned, Lissa was good at compulsion. But she couldn't have done this. In seconds,
Eddie was smiling.
"No. I won't fight you."