Into The Light (Immortal Hearts Book 1)

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Into The Light (Immortal Hearts Book 1) Page 4

by Katherine Hastings


  “Where’s what?” Mark looked at me with concern as my eyes darted around the room.

  “The camera. Where is the hidden camera?” This wasn’t real. I was on some TV show where people would laugh at the stupid girl dumb enough to climb into a helicopter with a total stranger. I wasn’t going to fall for this and give them something else to laugh at... the girl who believed vampires were real.

  “Emilia.” Mark reached forward and touched my arm. “There is no camera. This isn’t a joke. It’s unbelievable, but I can assure you... Aiden is a real, bonafide, blood-drinking vampire. I was just as surprised as you when I found out. It takes a minute to sink in.”

  My eyes searched their faces for any trace of lies or amusement. They found none.

  “Do it again,” I said and turned back to Aiden.

  His lips snarled and out popped his fangs. I leaned forward tentatively to get a better look.

  They seriously look real.

  “Satisfied?” Aiden asked.

  I nodded. He snapped his fangs back out of sight.

  “They could still be fake,” I said, my rational thinking still not allowing this to be reality.

  Aiden glared, as if annoyed, then a smug look crossed his face. With a whoosh he stood on the other side of the room as if he’d teleported there. My jaw dropped. Another whoosh blew my hair as he reappeared back in the seat in front of me.

  “Any explanations for that?”

  Holy. Shit.

  I shook my head. My wide-eyed stare moved back to Mark, my security blanket. He only nodded, and the look in his eyes confirmed the grim reality. Vampires existed.

  And one sat across from me.

  “Are you one?” I gulped and stared at Mark.

  “No. All human.” With a smile showing only straight white teeth, he pinched his skin. “Though hopefully someday...” He wiggled his eyebrows at Aiden who rolled his eyes in return.

  “What... what do you want from me?”

  Mark jumped right in. “The job we have for you is five million dollars for five years of letting him feed on you.”

  Five. Million. Dollars? Wait... to do what?

  “To feed on me? What does that even mean?” My eyes darted between them.

  Mark answered first. “With social media, smartphones, security cameras and technology it’s gotten difficult for vampires to feed out in the real world. The old “snatch and erase” feeding technique has gotten quite dangerous. Aiden also doesn’t like the taste of fear in his blood. It’s intoxicating to some vampires, but Aiden thinks it tastes—”

  “Sour. It takes away the coppery sweetness,” Aiden said the words like they were normal. Like he was normal.

  I nodded a slow, stunned nod.

  Mark continued. “The perfect solution is to find one cooperative donor who agrees to live here with us and feed Aiden as needed, generally once a day. After five years, your experience will be erased and replaced, and you will be sent home with five million dollars.”

  Five. Million. Dollars.

  The different outcomes and options swirled in my head colliding periodically with the “vampires are real” realization that kept popping in.

  “You can erase my mind?” That little doozy just sank in as well. “Why even bother paying me then? Why not just keep me hostage and erase my mind?” It only took a second for me to realize the stupidity in putting that idea in their head.

  “The fear thing. Captives still taste like fear. Women getting paid shed the fear surprisingly quickly,” Aiden said.

  Captives?

  “So, you’ve done the captive thing before?” I swallowed around the growing lump in my throat.

  “Once. It wasn’t pleasant for either of us. This new situation has worked out quite well.”

  I couldn’t decide whether his callous and honest answer reassured me or increased my already mounting terror.

  “Why me?”

  “Your blood is different. Sweeter,” Aiden said. “A rare delicacy a human could compare to that lobster or prime rib you all seem to love so much. I could smell it across the room last night.”

  “Aiden? The creepy factor... tone it down a bit.” Mark cringed, gesturing with his hands to dial it back. “Sorry, we’re still working on it.” He smiled back at me. “It’s like this. I smell like a Subway sandwich... most of us do.” Mark shrugged. “It gets the job done but is not gourmet. You smell like the most perfectly cooked steak paired with lobster in drawn butter. As you can see Aiden only likes the very best of everything. You, my darling, are the best. For five million dollars, you’ll live here in the mansion, eat the best food, swim in the pool, and want for nothing. You’ll commit to five years. As you can imagine, it’s quite a task finding an appropriate woman, revealing his identity and getting her to agree. We don’t want to do this every year. After five years, memory replaced, we no longer exist, and you wake up five million dollars richer with wonderful memories of how you got it. Your choice, of course.”

  It sounded simple enough. It’s not like I had a lot of other options. Still... a live feed bag? The thought made me shiver.

  “And if I decline?”

  “Your memories will be wiped, and you will awaken in your bed.”

  My eyes moved to Aiden’s. The thought of him clamped down on my neck both enticed and terrified me. The lure of the money called to every cell in my body. I had nothing to go back to or anyone who would miss me.

  Am I seriously considering this?

  “The only catch is that to protect his secret, you won’t be allowed to leave. No phones. No computers. No contact with the outside world. Not until your memories have been erased. You don’t need to decide tonight,” Mark said, interrupting my thoughts. “Why don’t you stay the night, explore the mansion and see your room. Take some time alone to think this through. Tomorrow you can let us know.”

  Mark’s plan made sense. My head started nodding though I wasn’t sure I was in control of the agreement. A sigh lifted my shoulders. What was one night sleeping in a mansion? Things could be a lot worse.

  Unless he sucks me dry in my sleep. Decapitation, strangling, stabbing... those were all deaths I imagined as possibilities from this encounter. Getting drank to death by a vampire? Nope. That one never occurred to me.

  “Come with me. I’ll show you your room... and your closet.” His smile grew with his eyes.

  Wait... clothes are involved?

  “I have a closet?”

  “Oh sweetheart, you have no idea what awaits you.” He practically shook with excitement.

  “Okay, let’s see it.”

  Mark hopped up and tugged me to my feet. Aiden sat unmoving in his chair as he watched us go. I looked over my shoulder one last time at him before we left the room and those translucent blues met mine.

  He’s gorgeous. Creepy... terrifying... but gorgeous.

  And a vampire.

  Mark skipped up the stairs with me in tow. He got to the last door on the left and smiled when he pushed it open. “This is your room.”

  My mouth dropped as I stepped inside. The warm tones of the wood floor matched the posters of the bed towering to the top of the vaulted ceiling. White scarves twirled down around the crisp white bedding. Egyptian... had to be.

  Silk drapes dangled from the windows and added to the elegance dripping off every expensive piece in the room. It was a bedroom fit for a queen. It was also bigger than my entire apartment.

  “Ready?” Mark bubbled as he stood in front of a closed white door.

  I nodded, excitement gripping me tight. He whipped open the door.

  “Ta da!”

  My mouth dropped further, drool threatening to leak out. I walked past Mark into the closet twice the size of my bedroom at home. Couture outfits of every texture, color and fabric rolled out in rows up and down each wall. Walking in stunned silence I pulled a tag dangling from a red dress on my left. The tag flashed me the price. Sixty-four-hundred-dollars. My eyes popped wider.

  “Is this...
Carolina Herrera?”

  “Gucci and Prada and Chanel, oh my!” Mark sing-songed behind me. He seemed as excited about this as I was. I’d known he was all style when I’d first seen him. His appreciation for beautiful clothes had been apparent. That knowledge also secured the certainty I wouldn’t have to worry about him sneaking into my bed at night. His door didn’t swing my way.

  “Shoes!” I squealed and raced forward to the wall at the end. Dozens of pairs of designer shoes glowed in the lit cubicles.

  “Wait for it,” Mark said as he stepped up and pressed a button on the wall. The wall rotated, revealing more and more shoes as it spun around.

  “Holy. Shit.” Further words stalled in my throat.

  “It’s like the mother ship has called you home.” Mark stood in open admiration as the shoes spun before us. “I think you could be happy here with us, Emilia. I really do.”

  I nodded. Who wouldn’t be happy here? Hell, I was just going to live in the closet. He could take all my blood in exchange for one night in those Manolo’s.

  “Everything you have ever wanted is yours for the taking. Think about it. I’ll have something sent up for dinner. What would you like?”

  “Anything?”

  “Yes. Anything.”

  The concept of unending luxury loomed before me, strange and tempting. “Spaghetti and meatballs? Do you have that?” It was my go-to at home.

  He furrowed his brow. “Out of anything?”

  “Um, okay. How about seared ahi tuna with a wasabi sauce?” Knowing that pushed the envelope, I started to prepare another answer.

  “I’ll have it up here in an hour along with a bottle of wine. Relax, enjoy yourself. I’ll give you some time but just push this intercom if you need anything.” He pointed to the device on the wall to the door.

  “Thank you, Mark. I’ve got a lot to think about.”

  He nodded and left me standing in the closet.

  The beautiful closet filled with clothes I’d never dreamed I’d be this close to... and get to wear.

  Yeah, I could get used to this.

  I had a big decision ahead of me and all night to think about it. I decided it was a decision best made while wearing that Prada dress I just spotted, and those Stuart Weitzman pumps. Yep. I could get used to this.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Aiden

  THE SMELL OF HER BLOOD still lingered in my nostrils even after I awoke from my sleep tonight. Knowing she hovered just out of my reach all night and day proved challenging, because I hadn’t tasted her yet. I needed to get just one sip of her intoxicating blood. Despite my steely self-control, the aromas she exuded made my fangs prick the skin, begging to be released.

  “She had a good day here,” Mark interrupted my thoughts as he burst into the room uninvited.

  “Please, come in.” I shook my head. For a while, after he arrived six years ago, I thought him incapable of learning as he seemed to forget my every rule. Soon I realized he just didn’t care. At first it irked me, but now I hated to admit I rather liked his carefree ways.

  “We pet the ponies, swam in the pool and she was reading a book when I left her.”

  “And?” I asked, hoping to hear her answer to my proposal was a yes.

  “She wants to see you again tonight before she decides.” Mark pushed the button on the wall causing the light-tight drapes to roll up from the windows in my bedroom. “It’s a beautiful night. You should get some fresh air.” He cranked the windows open, and the sweet summer breeze wafted into the stuffy room.

  “What do you think she will say?” The suspense strained me.

  “I’m not sure,” Mark said, sitting down on the chair in the corner of my bedroom.

  “Why? What makes you unsure?”

  He tented his hands in front of him and then touched them to his lips. “Well, for one. You’ve creeped her out.”

  “How?” The answer offended me. I had been a perfect gentleman to her.

  “Aiden... we’ve talked about this. You need to lighten up. Catch up with the times. What was once considered appropriate and gentlemanlike back in the day, women now consider creepy and weird.”

  A jolt of unease rocketed through me. One that said I might not get what I wanted. “I’m not creepy or weird.”

  “I know that. You know that. But she doesn’t know that. You definitely didn’t do yourself any favors with the whole ‘captives’ thing, though.” Mark’s face scrunched up in disapproval.

  I gave him a steely look, but it didn’t faze him. The man’s calm tenacity kept him by my side. That and his exceptional skills as my personal assistant.

  He crossed his legs and settled back into the chair. “Just try to be a little more, relaxed, when you see her tonight. Not so, ‘I’m going to suck your blood, muwahaha’. You know?”

  “I don’t know,” I said as my brows snapped together.

  “Just smile. Laugh. Try not to be so serious.” Mark slapped his leg and stood up. “Put on some clothes, not a suit, that makes you look stuffy. Preferably something with color, and come down to the living room. I’ll have her meet us down there. We’ll laugh. We’ll talk. We’ll all fall in love. It will be stupendous.”

  “Fine. She had better say yes.”

  “Just don’t be so doom and gloom and I’m sure she’ll be sprawled out offering you her neck in no time. She’s seen the closet. What woman could say no to that closet?”

  With a deep breath and a nod, I walked to my own closet. It was imperative I impress her. The temptation of her blood compelled me to put my best foot forward. It lured me enough I was sure it would taste delicious even laced with fear if push came to shove.

  Mark popped his head back in the door. “Do you want me to pick out the outfit?”

  “I can dress myself, Mark.”

  “Colors. Something with colors,” he said before he disappeared around the corner.

  What is so wrong with suits these days? I happened to like wearing them. I liked nice things, and I liked looking pristine. And I thought I looked quite dapper in them. Men these days looked more and more like peasants each year—the scraggly hair, ripped up clothes, and rough fabrics. Having been alive for many centuries, I had seen the fashions come and go. One couldn’t even call the garish choices of this century fashion. At least Mark hadn’t fallen victim to the grungy look. I’d throw him out if he did.

  Colors. Looking through my closet I saw dark suit after suit. A few sweaters and casual button downs had found their way in over the years, including a light pink cardigan. Mark’s doing, of course. Settling on a pair of grey pants and a white button down, I got dressed. The outfit as casual as I was comfortable with. Grey was a color, right?

  The pang for blood squeezed at my throat. Fighting it back strengthened my resolve to convince this girl to stay.

  Emilia.

  An odd creature. By no means unpleasant on the eyes, she had a spunk about her that intrigued me. Her blood wasn’t the only thing I found fascinating about her.

  Mark and I had been hunting for a new donor for weeks in clubs all over Chicago since completing the deal with my last girl, Jenny. I’d made this arrangement with her five years ago. The first one of its kind. It had worked out quite nicely and now I looked forward to a new one. Though Jenny had lived in the house, I’d rarely seen her aside from feeding time when I woke up and before she went to bed. I pictured her sitting on a beach sipping cocktails with the millions she now had and the story of winning the lottery I’d left her with.

  Our only mistake had been parting with her before we had another girl lined up. It had proved more difficult to find a replacement than we’d thought. The blood bags I’d been sucking on the last few weeks didn’t even come close to the satisfaction I got from blood fresh from the vein. We had learned a lesson and would find a replacement before the contract with Emilia ended.

  If she’d accept.

  She’ll accept. She has to.

  The moment I smelled Emilia in the bar my heart had flip
ped over in my chest. I’d wanted her with every second, every breath. Watching her tongue-lash that strange looking fellow entertained me and only increased my desire to bring her home. I needed her blood, but something else about her drew me in deeper. Only seconds after seeing her stomp away from the table last night, I’d told Mark I wanted her.

  Mark reappeared in the doorway. “She is done with dinner and would like you to join her.”

  “Very well.”

  He gestured to my outfit and placed a hand on his cocked hip. “I thought I said colors.”

  “Grey is a color.”

  “Grey is most definitely not a color.” With a huff, Mark turned and left my room.

  I followed behind him, and the smell of her blood strengthened with each step. It had nearly caused me to jump across the room and drink her on the couch last night, only moments after I’d had a blood bag. I hadn’t eaten yet tonight.

  We entered the sitting room. Emilia rose from where she sat on the couch. Her long brown hair curled into soft spiral waves that ended just beneath her full breasts. A black cocktail dress clung to her curves and I followed her shapely legs right down to her sparkling pink shoes.

  Beautiful.

  Soft doe eyes filled with uncertainty met mine, and her full black lashes fluttered. Her skin flushed at the sight of me, the pink hiding the faint freckles that dotted her ivory cheeks and small nose. The soft lighting of the crystal chandelier overhead illuminated her translucent beauty.

  “Good evening,” I said as I entered the room. Mark shot me a censuring look. I sighed and tried again. “How are you doing tonight?” Better. Casual.

  “I’m doing good. Did you sleep well?” Her voice had a soft innocence to it you didn’t hear much anymore.

  “I did. It’s a beautiful night.”

  “It is.”

  Mark eyeballed me to perk things up.

  “Mark tells me you two had a good day? What did you do?”

  “Well, let’s see.” She walked over to the bar to pour herself a glass of wine.

  “Allow me.” I stepped to her side. Cautious eyes watched my every move while I refilled her glass. When I handed it back to her, I noticed the slight tremble in her hand as she grabbed the stem.

 

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