by Jasmine Hill
They were toying with her. They’re playing with me like a cat plays with a mouse before it bites its head off. That was what they’d do to her. It was only a matter of time, and she drove her legs faster, her arms pumping in time with her hammering heart.
She skidded around another corner, one more passageway looming ahead in her endless nightmare. She had minimal fuel left in her tank, perhaps enough to get her to the end of the hall. Her legs felt like jelly and her heart was about to pound out of her chest. This was it. This was how she’d die, at the hands of a bunch of bloodthirsty demons. No one to know how she’d died or what had happened to her. She’d just cease to exist, like she was an insignificant blip in the universe, and perhaps that was just what she was.
She wasn’t sprinting now. Her speed had lessened in line with her motivation. Her flight mode had fizzled out. She reached the end of the corridor as if she’d been running through quicksand, like in a nightmare when one’s legs fail to work properly—only it was real. They were closing in on her, their laughter and Estelle’s screeching foretelling what was soon to come.
Bree spun around, ready to take out another one if possible. At least she’d die fighting. She screamed her rage and impotence, until her shriek was abruptly severed when she was yanked off her feet by her hair.
Chapter Twenty
Vincent grasped Bree by her topknot and wrenched her up and out of the corridor and into the stairwell above. She stilled in shock for a moment then started to struggle.
“Get off me!” she screeched, her terror clear as she fought frantically to get away from him. He held her tightly to his body, banding his arms around her. He had no idea what the fuck had happened while he’d been away, but it was apparent that the cat was most definitely out of the bag. He held his hand over Bree’s mouth and peered into the passageway below. The others flew by, Estelle shrieking in rage as her vampiric speed carried her out of sight.
Bree still fought him, but she was weak, her body like a noodle in his arms. “It’s me,” he whispered against her ear. “Vincent!”
She stilled for a moment, eyes wide as she peered at him over his hand that he still held clasped to her mouth. He could only assume that Dante had duped her again. “What the fuck happened?”
She flopped loosely against him and he removed his hand so she could talk.
“It was Dante. He was dressed exactly like you. He took me to the room again. And I, I think I killed Augustus.”
What the fuck? Well, that would account for Estelle’s evident fury. They’d been partners for a long time. Longer than Vincent had even known them. Estelle wouldn’t forget this. He was proud of Bree for having had the bravery to go through with it, but how she’d done it was a story for later. It looked like his plan to remain undetected for as long as possible was out of the window. The others wouldn’t stop now—they’d want them dead.
It was clear that the strength his blood had given Bree had worn off. Her fight to get away from the others had left her weak and exhausted. He’d need to remedy that before they tried to leave.
He swept her up into his arms and took off. He knew one place where the others hated to go. It would give them some precious time for Bree to recuperate.
Bree awoke wrapped in Vincent’s arms. When she’d finally realized that it was him and not Dante who had grabbed her, she’d slumped against him in relief, her exhaustion getting the better of her.
“Where are we?” she croaked.
“We’re in the crypt.”
She sat up and peered around. They were in a stone chamber, numerous names and epitaphs etched into the marble coffins surrounding them. “Why?”
“The others don’t like it here. It’s too reminiscent of mortality. Even vampires have a weak spot, as you demonstrated with Augustus. Although we like to think we’re eternal, and for the most part we are, our immortality isn’t absolute. We can also be exterminated. The others don’t like to be reminded of that.” He gazed around. “Personally, I’ve always liked it here. It’s peaceful and I come here when I need solitude.”
“So, vampires are in those tombs?”
He shook his head and smiled. “No. We’re denied such peaceful slumber. These are our families, mainly. My parents are here, as is my sister. Some of the others’ family members are also here.”
The tombs looked old, some of them ancient. The stone had crumbled and the inscriptions were barely legible. She wondered just how long the crypt had been there.
He held his hand out to her. “Come, it’s more comfortable in here.”
He led her through a heavy steel door to a smaller room equipped with a bed, a lounge chair and a small desk. Candlelit wall sconces bathed the room in a soft glow. She was still weak from her dash through the mansion, her legs still jelly-like as she wobbled to seat herself on the edge of the bed.
“You sleep here?”
“Sometimes. As I said, I like the solitude and the general tranquility. Our ancestors are long gone, their souls in a better place.” He sat next to her. “You need more of my blood.”
“Won’t that make you weaker? Giving me your blood?”
“No. I took some sustenance before I found you.”
She inhaled sharply. She hadn’t seen Madison. He’d returned without her. “Madison?”
“I couldn’t find her. The nourishment I’m talking about comes from a bag. Blood bags. I have a supply in the fridge in my room.”
He gripped her around the waist and pulled her onto his lap so her legs straddled his. He tucked her legs under her and settled his erection between her thighs, his hardness a stark contrast to her softness.
“Unzip your jeans,” he murmured, “then mine.”
She did as he asked, wondering what he wanted to do about her panties, but he answered her unasked question when he reached inside her jeans and ripped her panties off then tossed the shredded lace aside.
He wore no underwear, and when she reached inside his jeans to pull his cock free, it bounced under its heavy weight then sprung up to his navel. He grasped her ass cheeks and lifted her to hover over his straining erection. Then he pulled her down while he thrust up, filling her completely. The position and his size and the fact that she wasn’t ready had her whimpering. He hushed her, nuzzling her ear and neck until she slowly relaxed around him and her core gushed the liquid needed to ease his girth.
“That’s it,” he purred into her ear. “I’m going to move now.”
He pumped his hips in a leisurely glide and guided her body up and down his cock. She clung to his shoulders, relishing the drive of his shaft when he pushed through sensitive tissue and nerves. Her clit rubbed against his pelvis on each downward drive and sent more currents of pleasure zinging through her.
“Cut my neck with that penknife you have hidden in your bra.”
What? She opened her eyes and stared down at him in shock.
“It won’t hurt me. Just cut me enough to draw blood, but make it good, baby. You need to suck enough out of me to replenish your energy and strength.”
She reached into her bra and pulled out the knife. She flicked it open and drew it across his neck, breaching the skin and unleashing a flow of blood.
He groaned and thrust into her harder as she latched on to his neck and began to suck. His blood flowed down her throat like the sweetest nectar, thick and luscious and fortifying.
She bounced up and down on his huge erection, more of his memories flooding her mind and hazing her vision with pleasure. The ecstasy of his cock and the taste of his blood coalesced in her core. Her pussy throbbed in time with her rapidly beating heart, her inner muscles tightening, her climax hovering just out of reach.
“You’re close,” he rasped. “I want you to come while you’re sucking my blood.”
She bounced harder, her sex unleashing more liquid heat. She worked herself faster, pumping her legs frantically to propel herself up and down his shaft.
He growled. “Fuck. That’s it. Suck me!”
&n
bsp; She moaned and bit into his flesh, releasing more scarlet liquid to gush down her throat. Her pussy tightened and her inner muscles throbbed rhythmically, her climax crashing through her like a tsunami. She released his neck and threw her head back, howling her pleasure.
Vincent swore and grasped her harder, stretching her ass cheeks and powering into her, bottoming out on each frantic drive of his hips. He thrust three times, deep and hard, then roared his release, his muscles bulging and tightening as he soaked her channel in his copious seed.
Bree slumped against him, her breathing harsh and erratic and her heart thumping a rapid tattoo against her ribcage. She raised her head to look at Vincent. Blood still trickled from the wound on his neck, but it was closing quickly. She watched in fascination as it completely disappeared, healing itself before her eyes.
“It’s amazing how quickly you heal,” she whispered in awe. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
He grinned and wiped his thumb over her mouth, collecting his residual blood, then pressed it between her lips. “It will help you heal too, although not so quickly and thoroughly. You’ll still have to be careful.”
He plucked her off his lap and set her on her feet. “We need to get organized and leave as soon as possible. They’ll be searching for us and it won’t take them long to find us here.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Vincent studied Bree. “How do you feel? Better?”
She nodded and grinned. “It’s amazing what your blood can do. I feel three times as strong.”
“Good. You’ll need the speed and the strength. Stay focused and follow me.”
“Do we have time to look for Madison? I don’t feel right leaving her here.”
He didn’t want to tell her what he’d seen when he went to her room. It was doubtful that she was still alive. He pushed a hand through his hair and scowled. “We don’t have time. I need to get you out of here. It’ll be more difficult to get at you once you’re out of their environment. They’ll be subject to other rules. Here, anything goes.”
He made a split-second decision that he’d no doubt regret later. “I promise you. When we’re safe from here, I’ll come back and look for her.”
She bit her lip then sighed and nodded. “Okay.”
He rummaged through the backpack and withdrew a range of weapons. He handed Bree two stakes, a necklace of throwing stars that he doubted she’d know what to do with and a small machete. She tucked the weaponry into various parts of her clothing and looped the necklace over her head. He hoped they didn’t have to use anything at all, but he doubted their ability to get out without running into serious obstacles.
“Let’s go.” He clutched her hand tightly. They’d move faster if he carried her, but that wouldn’t leave him free to fight. Hopefully his blood would make her fast enough to give them a fighting chance of escape.
Outside the crypt, the air was dank and heavy with a low fog. And black. No stars twinkled and even the moon wasn’t visible. He hoped Bree’s heightened senses would be enough for her to navigate the terrain. Her abilities would be nowhere near as sharp as a vampire’s, or a familiar’s, but he had to trust that his blood would be enough to give her a chance.
He tugged her along behind him, keeping his senses attuned to all sights and sounds. It was quiet. Too quiet, like the lull before a storm.
Their progress resonated piercingly in his ears. Twigs and branches snapped like firecrackers in the stillness, broadcasting their position loudly in the silence, and he winced with each step they made.
He didn’t miss the glowing eyes following their progress—yellow, unblinking beacons amidst the low-lying brush.
He stilled and pulled Bree close to whisper in her ear. “We need to run. Follow me and don’t look back. Use your weapons when you have to.” He’d prefer for her to lead so he could protect her from the rear, but she’d get lost and confused by the terrain. He waited for her nod of understanding then took off at a sprint.
Bree leapt after him, following easily. She knew he wasn’t moving at his usual speed and she pushed herself to her limits. She hadn’t missed the glowing, feral eyes that had been tracking their movements from the crypt with an eerie voyeurism. She had no idea what animal or thing the eyes were attached to. They’d looked like glowing spheres suspended in the black night.
She could guess at their form now, though. She could hear them at her back, giving chase through the forest. The snapping of jaws, the hissing and the howls that pierced the night sent chills through her and spurred her to run faster. She fumbled for a weapon. The demons were drawing closer, their passage through the undergrowth heralding the moment they’d be on top of her.
Up ahead, Vincent stopped in his tracks and spun around. Bree skidded to a stop and he pushed her behind him. He let a throwing star loose, then another, the steel spinning through the air to embed in the neck of a gray-coated animal. The thing leapt into the sky with a high-pitched howl before disappearing in a billow of smoke. Beside it, a large ginger cat screeched and hissed as the other throwing star slit its side open. The cat went down shrieking and writhing before it too vanished in a puff of acrid smoke.
“Come on,” Vincent yelled, spurring her into another sprint.
She pounced into action and kept pace just behind him as they traveled farther into the forest and away from the mansion.
The growls and snarls of the pursuing creatures reached her ears. How many, she couldn’t tell, but they were close. She stilled for a moment, yanked a throwing star from around her neck and let it fly toward the nearest creature. Unbelievably, it hit its mark, the trajectory slicing through the long tail of a dog-like animal. The thing howled then spun into an uncontrolled somersault down a nearby embankment.
Bree didn’t have time to congratulate herself on her aim as an enormous wolf crouched, then leapt into the air, aiming its snapping jaws for her throat. She grabbed her machete from her back waistband and flung it up and into the belly of the leaping wolf. The blade struck deeply. The creature yowled and careened sideways, its body burning to dust in midair.
“Duck!” Vincent screamed from up ahead. She threw her body to the ground just in time to avoid the volley of silver throwing stars that whizzed over her head. She looked up to see the steel blades whirring through the air, each on a seemingly different trajectory. Beasts howled and screeched all around them as the killer stars struck their targets.
Vincent yanked Bree to her feet just as Estelle descended from above and landed in a graceful crouch in front of them, cutting off their advance. Behind them, Dante skidded to a stop, his maniacal laugh ringing through the night.
Vincent grasped Bree’s hand and pulled her close, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.
“Where’re you off to, little brother?” Dante cried almost jovially. “You know the rules and Estelle wants vengeance. You can’t let the bitch leave without reprisal for Augustus.” Dante edged closer, knees bent, arms out by his sides in attack mode. “You know what she did.”
Vincent laughed. “Of course I know what she did. Augustus was bested by a human. Who would have thought it possible?”
Estelle shrieked, her cry high-pitched and blood-curdling. “Bitch! I’m going to ruin you!”
Vincent bent his head to Bree’s and spoke low in her ear. “Get ready.”
Bree had no idea what he had planned. How could they fight off two of them? But she slipped her hand into her waistband and grasped the stake, her chest against Vincent’s, hiding the movement from the others.
The vampires circled them, arms outstretched, ready to pounce and attack. “She’s mine,” Estelle snarled. “And I’m going to make it slow and excruciating.”
Bree’s heart thudded painfully and she clutched Vincent close, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other tucked between their bodies and gripping the stake.
“I can hear her heart beating frantically,” Dante murmured. “Like terrified butterflies trapped in a jar.”
They c
ontinued circling and Vincent moved Bree in time with them, trying to keep the others in sight.
“Her blood will taste bitter, Estelle,” Dante continued conversationally. “You know what fear does to the taste.”
Estelle cackled. “It’s not the taste I’m concerned with.”
Vincent tensed and Bree tensed in turn, ready to move with him when necessary.
“Now,” he muttered, leaping high in the air and taking Bree with him. Estelle jumped at the same time, so they were on a flying collision course, their three bodies aimed to meet head-on.
Bree gripped the stake tightly as they flew through the black sky. Before the three of them met in a tangle of arms and legs, Vincent thrust Bree in front of him, banding her waist tightly with his arms. “Now, Bree!” he shouted over the whistling of wind and Estelle’s battle cry.
She whipped the stake from her waistband and steadied it with two hands against her stomach. Estelle didn’t see the danger until it was too late, her forward momentum not allowing her to slow in mid-air. Her blood-red eyes widened in horror and her piercing scream rang out shrilly before she landed directly on the stake Bree had aimed at her chest. Estelle’s scream turned to a long, drawn-out howl as her body erupted in a ball of flames.
Holding Bree tightly, Vincent landed in a crouch. She had no time to wonder what to do next before he was taking off in the direction they’d been moving before they’d been attacked. She clung to him like a monkey as he flew through the forest, vaulting over fallen logs then springing up into tree branches to swing them farther along. Over his shoulder, she could see Dante in hot pursuit. It was surreal, watching Vincent’s likeness chasing them, vengeance and fury burning off him in waves.
“He’s coming after us,” she yelled into Vincent’s ear.