Bound by Her Passion

by Mara Leigh

  “Comfortable?” Astrid asks the vampire.

  The captive narrows her eyes and squares her jaw, like she’s trying to look fierce, but I can sense the fear in her eyes. The vampire is dark-haired and -skinned, with dark red lips and warm brown eyes. Tall and athletic, she’s the type of bird I might go for in the club, hoping for a quick shag.

  Might have gone for, that is. Since finding Selina, I have zero interest in the casual fucks that used to fill my nights.

  Astrid stands in front of the prisoner. “My name is Astrid. I’m head of security for FJS—Fides, Juris, Sanctorum. What’s your name?”

  The captive continues her fear-tinged scowl, but her fingers tremble and her lips look dry and tight. Astrid must see this too. How could she not?

  “When did you last feed?” Astrid asks her.

  The captive looks away.

  Astrid presses a button near the door. “Our guest needs a meal.”

  She approaches the prisoner and touches her upper arm. “Let’s get you fed before we talk. Is this too tight?” She adjusts the holster holding down the vampire’s shoulders, and the prisoner’s expression shows a brief moment of relief.

  The door opens and a human male enters. The human’s attractive, tanned, with well-coifed brown hair and clothed in what looks like a bespoke business suit worthy of Savile Row.

  Astrid beckons him over. “Jason, can you feed our guest, please?”

  The man nods, then quickly removes his suit jacket, tie and dress shirt, placing them carefully on the back of a chair.

  “What the fuck?” Rock turns toward me.

  “Astrid’s going to give her some blood,” I explain. “Probably to soften her up. Hoping to get her to cooperate. She’s terrified. Don’t you see how she’s trembling?”

  “Selina’s missing! Why waste time?”

  “Astrid knows what she’s doing. Plus there are rules. Ethics.”

  Rock shakes his head. “Ethics? Give me a break. Who is this man? A blood slave?”

  “That’s an offensive term.”

  Rock rolls his eyes.

  “Listen, mate. You shouldn’t even be in here. Astrid made an exception, so don’t go casting judgment.”

  “Then tell me what I’m looking at.” Rock’s voice booms, but there’s no reaction from inside the interrogation room. The glass must be treated so that even vampires can’t hear through it.

  “What do you want to know?” I ask Rock.

  He shakes his head. “What I see is an unsuspecting human about to have his neck pierced by vampire fangs, and then his memory of the trauma stolen. How is that ethical? Or do your rules only apply to those of your kind?”

  “This man knows what he’s doing,” I assure Rock. “Blood donations at FJS are fully consensual, and the donors well compensated for their services.”

  Rock’s eyes narrow. “Malcolm and Astrid have never mentioned anything about blood slaves. Not once.” He looks down. “I mean, I know they need human blood…”

  “Blood donor positions aren’t something FJS typically advertises.” I turn away from the one-way mirror as the human positions himself, exposes his neck and the prisoner starts to feed.

  Rock stares through the glass. “Are they trapped inside the building?”

  “The prisoners?”

  “No, the man she’s feeding from.”

  “Of course not.”

  “But then… They don’t report you to the police?” Rock shakes his head. “Of course they don’t. They forget they were bitten.”

  I lean against the glass beside the giant. “Even if this guy forgets parts of the feeding, he came into the room willingly. You saw that. You saw him prepare, right?”

  Rock nods.

  “The blood donors are carefully vetted, all long-time FJS employees, well trusted. Their positions are highly sought after within the corporation.”

  “Must be coercion or abuse of power.”

  “Trust me. The donors are good with it. Not in the five hundred year history of the corporation has a blood donor gone to the human authorities.”

  Rock shakes his head, his expression revealing conflict, as he looks back through the window. “Does everyone at FJS feed from these—donors?”

  “Most do. It’s safer. Easier.”

  “Easier for whom?” Rock narrows his eyes.

  “Look.” I shake my head. “Can we talk about the ethics of blood donors later? It’s more complicated than you think, and right now—”

  Rock nods. “Selina is all that matters.”

  “You said it, mate.”

  “Feeling better?” Astrid asks the vampire in the interrogation room, as the human, clearly dazed, is guided into a wheelchair of sorts. An attendant collects his clothes, and he’s taken from the room.

  Astrid pulls over a chair and sits opposite the trapped vampire. “You’re under arrest for attempted murder, kidnapping and a variety of other charges. It’s an ironclad case. You’re looking at a minimum sentence of a century behind bars.”

  The vampire blinks, clearly shocked at this news. “A century?”

  “You must know vampire law.”

  The vampire shakes her head.

  “When were you turned?” Astrid asks. “Didn’t your Maker teach you?”

  “I became a vampire six years ago.” The vampire’s voice trembles. “I’ve been in King Xavier’s court the whole time.”

  “He’s not a king, you know.”

  “He’s not?”

  Astrid shakes her head. “I’ll make sure you get some basic lessons while you’re serving your sentence.”

  “I didn’t know,” the vampire says, her voice cracking. “I was under orders. I didn’t have a choice. That vampire we were sent to capture is King Xavier’s mate.”

  “Again.” Astrid holds up her hand. “Not a king. Not his mate.”

  “He sure seems like a king.” The vampire shakes her head, her expression changing as if her entire world has been upended.

  “What’s your name?” Astrid asks softly.

  “Kwana.”

  “Kwana, you’ve got a lot to learn about vampire history and culture, but right now I need to find the vampire your buddies took. If you help, we can discuss a reduced sentence, rehabilitation.”

  “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.” Her face twists like she’s in pain. “I had no idea there were vampires like you. Places like this.” She shakes her head. “This is a syndicate, right?”

  “Not exactly,” Astrid tells her. “But if all you’ve seen is Xavier’s so-called court, then you have a very warped idea of vampire culture.” She leans forward. “Where are they holding her?”

  Kwana shakes her head.

  “So you want to spend the next hundred years in prison?”

  “No!” Kwana blurts. “I don’t know where she is. Pike took her. He wasn’t with us.”

  Astrid folds her arms over her chest. “I know for a fact Pike is one of Xavier’s Guard.”

  “He is. He was. I guess he still is?” Kwana shakes her head. “But he wasn’t with us tonight. He must have followed us.” Her eyes close for a moment. “Maybe he was backup in case our team failed?”

  “You’re asking me?” Astrid tucks a stray lock of red hair behind her ear.

  “I don’t know why Pike was there tonight. Honest.” She shivers. “Pike doesn’t talk much. Everyone’s afraid of him. Maybe even King Xavier. Pike’s always been a loner, but none of us have even seen him since Xavier found out Selina was alive.”

  “How did Xavier find out? And how did your team find her tonight?”

  “An informant,” Kwana says. “A syndicate boss named Louis.”

  Astrid nods.

  “Do you know who they’re talking about?” Rock asks me.

  “Yeah, I do. A real weasel.” When we first arrived in the city, my old partner Andreas and I questioned Louis several times. He likes to act like he knows everything that’s going on in the vampire world. “This Louis twat dresses like
the Sun King.”

  “Louis the fourteenth?” Rock rubs his head. “Was the King of France a vampire?”

  I laugh sharply, keeping one eye on the interrogation. “Not a chance. And this guy who calls himself Louis is a poser. Goes around decked out in velvet and lace, carries a walking stick that converts to a stake.”

  Rock’s eyes open wider. “I saw him. He confronted Selina the same night I met her… I was following her to make sure she found a safe place to spend the day.” Rock looks up. “Do you think it’s been him, not Pike, who’s been following her since?”

  I shrug. “Could be. If it was Pike, I don’t get why he didn’t make a move before tonight.”

  I turn my attention back to the interrogation on the other side of the glass.

  “If you were in Xavier’s Guard,” Astrid says to Kwana. “How could you know so little about getting in and out of his lair?”

  “Tonight is the first time I’ve been out of the palace since I was taken down there as a human.”

  Astrid turns toward us, and I see skepticism on her face, but it disappears when she turns back to the vampire she’s questioning.

  “How did you become part of his Guard?”

  “I was an athlete when I was human,” Kwana answers. “Strong. My Maker was in his Guard, and he recommended me to Xavier.”

  “And once you were in the Guard, you got free run of the palace? Access in and out?”

  She shakes her head. “No. Neither. Only the commanders know the way out.”

  “But you know now,” Astrid says softly. “You got out tonight. Kwana, will you help us get into Xavier’s compound?”

  She looks down.

  “Help us,” Astrid says, “and we’ll be able to lighten your sentence.”

  Kwana’s eyes rise and they’re filled with fear. “I can show you how to get in, but I don’t think you’ll find Selina down there.”

  “And why is that?” Astrid leans onto the table.

  “Pike told Xavier he’d killed Selina. If Pike let her live…I doubt he took her for Xavier.”

  Listening to Kwana speak, I stagger back and drop down into a chair. She’s right. Pike showed up after the others. He took her—but he took her for himself.

  Rock pounds the glass, and the vampires inside the room turn toward us.

  “Careful, mate,” I tell the giant. “You’re going to break that glass.”

  He turns toward me. “What the feck do we do now? She could be anywhere!”

  Drawing a deep breath, I rise to my feet. “What we do is find her. That’s what the fuck we do. We find her and we save her from that monster.”

  Chapter 3

  Selina

  I slump against the padded wall, waiting for my wrists and ankle to heal for the third time. The bolts haven’t loosened a bit.

  In addition to the padding at my back, other things about my cell are surprising. The mattress is comfortable and has clean sheets and even a soft pillow, and now that I’ve been able to study the space more closely I can tell that it’s clean—without the rats or bugs I’d expect underground. The tiles on the walls and floor were recently scrubbed, and someone draped fabric between a few of the pillars to make the space seem more like a room than a dungeon.

  Was this Pike’s doing? I try to imagine him cleaning or hanging makeshift curtains, but can’t. Does he live down here?

  I shake my head. Pike lives in Xavier’s compound with the rest of the Guard, and even if he comes here when he’s outside the court, he didn’t decorate it like this for his own tastes. Nothing about it seems like Pike.

  My stomach roils with revulsion. If anything, this is a place he uses to trap females for his sadistic pleasure.

  I sense Pike before I see him.

  The thick velvet curtains part, and Pike strides toward me, a human man slumped over his shoulder.

  “You’re awake,” he says. “Good.”

  I press my back against the wall, wishing I could push myself into the padding, disappear into the wall—anything to keep out of Pike’s reach.

  “I brought you food.”

  He strides toward me, carrying the man, then gently lays his body down on the mattress beside me.

  I swing my arm, hoping to punch Pike in the temple with an iron shackle, but my still-broken wrist betrays me. I cry out.

  Pike’s eyes fill with what looks like pain. “Stop hurting yourself.”

  “Hurting myself? That’s rich.”

  He steps back, leaving the human beside me. “I hate to see you in pain.”

  “Pain you haven’t inflicted yourself, you mean?”

  He stares at the floor. “I will never, ever hurt you.”

  “But you have hurt me! Many times, you monster.”

  He steps back, still not raising his gaze from the tiled floor. “I can’t change the past. I can’t change who I am. But I will never hurt you, and I would die before I let anyone hurt you. Ever again.”

  Something in the tone of his voice is convincing, but I refuse to believe it. “So, what’s your plan here?”

  “To keep you safe.”

  “Safe? How is this safe?”

  “Xavier can’t find you down here.”

  I tremble, realizing his twisted logic. “So you expect me to live out my life in this dungeon? Is that it? Locked away and alone so that he can’t hurt me? That’s twisted. You’re even more of a monster than I thought.”

  He turns away.

  “I can’t live in this dungeon. I won’t.” I shake the chains. “I’ll keep breaking my bones until I can make the pieces small enough to slide through these shackles. And if that doesn’t work, then I won’t feed. You say you’d die to protect me? Well I’ll die before I let you hold me captive.”

  “You need to feed.” He backs away and disappears behind a curtain.

  I stare down at the man. He’s young. Probably in his early twenties and around the same age I was before I transitioned, the physical age I will remain forever. Dressed in scruffy jeans and a torn T-shirt, at first glance the man looks like a homeless person, but I soon realize his clothes are expensive; his skin and hair are clean.

  And his blood is calling me to feed.

  Accepting this “gift” from Pike feels like giving in on some level, but on the other hand, maybe if I feed it will remove the risk that I’ll give in to something much worse—feeding from Pike’s vein.

  Plus, I need to stay strong. I need to do everything I can to escape, to get back to Rock and Gray, who must be frantic with worry.

  Yielding, I adjust my position on the mattress, tip the man’s head to the side and dig my fangs into his neck. He reacts in his slumber, tensing, then relaxing with a deep moan as my venom floods his body with the chemical that calms humans and makes the feeding pleasurable.

  His blood cascades into my system, nourishing me, healing me, making me feel whole and alive. I wasn’t rationalizing when I chose to feed. I need this. I love this. I can barely remember a time before I needed human blood to survive, before I longed for it.

  Sensing I’m on the verge of taking too much, I pull back and lick his wounds closed. The man sighs in his sleep, and I wonder how Pike made him unconscious. Probably the same way he rendered me unconscious last night.

  I touch the man’s face. His skin is slightly warmer than a vampire’s, his chin scratchy with razor stubble, and I sense each tiny whisker on my palm. I run my finger over his slightly chapped lips.

  Aroused by my feeding, I can’t help but recognize that this human is attractive, his shoulders and chest well muscled beneath his baggy T-shirt.

  “Wait until he’s awake to fuck him.”

  I jump at the sound of Pike’s voice, my back striking the padded wall. “Fuck you.”

  “If you wish.” His hand rests on his thigh, close to the obvious bulge at his crotch, and I’m not sure whether the bulge just appeared, or whether it was there all along and I’ve just become aware. Very aware.

  Heat shooting through me, I turn
my gaze from Pike, disgusted with myself. Why would my mind go anywhere near there? It’s the aftereffects of my feeding.

  “You done?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay if I get him?”

  I nod.

  He lifts the man over his shoulder like he weighs nothing and then turns to go.

  “Don’t kill him!”

  He turns toward me. “I would never.”

  “Why was he unconscious when you brought him down?” I ask. “What did you do to him?”

  “No more than you did,” Pike replies. “I had a quick feed so he’d forget all of this.”

  “Oh.” Something inside me stirs, realizing that both Pike and I have fed from this man. There’s something intimate about that idea, and it makes me squirm.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I glare at him, embarrassed that my emotions might have shown on my face. “I’m fantastic, thanks. What girl wouldn’t love being chained up in a dungeon?”

  Chapter 4

  Rock

  Gray and Malcolm are chatting, sitting on Eames chairs in the corner of the small room off the FJS lobby, and I approach Astrid as we wait for the security staff to bring the vampire prisoner.

  “Do you really trust her?” I ask Astrid.

  “I never trust anyone,” Astrid replies after a pause. “Not fully.” Her long red hair is tied back from her face, and she reaches behind to twist it into a bun that she secures with a long pin as she talks. “But my instincts say that Kwana’s telling the truth. She was terrified during the interrogation.”

  “Terrified of you, or of Xavier?”

  Astrid shrugs slightly. “Probably both. But even if she’s lying, she’s the best lead we’ve got.”

  “This is bonkers!” Gray shoots to his feet. He crosses the room toward me and Astrid. “Malcolm just told me that you’re letting the prisoner go free.”

  Astrid crosses her arms over her ample chest as she turns to face Grayson. “We’re not letting her go. She’s going to show us the entrance to Xavier’s compound.”

  “What if it’s a trick?” Gray yells. “What if we’re ambushed?”