Captured

by Erica Stevens

Braith stared up at the young girl before him. Her eyes were wide, unblinking, completely bewildered as she gazed silently at him. His hand lingered on her leg, brushing briefly against her soft skin. The dark bruises, and scratches upon her, were vivid against her pale skin. He didn’t know what had caused the obvious abuse that she had withstood, but he found that he didn’t like it. Not one bit. He didn’t know what it was about this girl, but she fascinated him, intrigued him, and captivated him in a way that no one ever had before.

  She was a pretty enough thing now that the layers of dirt had been removed from her. She smelled better now that the smoke, blood, and stench of body odor had been scrubbed from her. He detected a faint hint of strawberries clinging to her, even though they had washed her in some flowery scent he found didn’t suit her. She was not one to be wreathed in gentle flowers; she appeared anything but delicate as she watched him out of narrowed, weary eyes. He sensed that beneath her docile demeanor there was something far more intense, and far stronger than the way she was trying to appear now. Her powerful scent, fighting to overcome the floral clinging to her, was a great indicator of that fact.

  Her features were soft, delicate even, and as youthful as the innocence she radiated. Her parted mouth was full, her teeth straight and even, and surprisingly white for the lack of hygiene she had displayed upon arrival. Her crystalline blue eyes were wide upon him, full of disbelief, fear, and uncertainty. Yet, they also appeared intrigued and curious as she tilted her head slightly to study him. Her hair, scrubbed free of the dirt coating it, was a glossy dark auburn. It gleamed in the light of the room, the red within it shiny and bright. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen a shade quite like it.

  He didn’t understand what it was about her that intrigued him so. He had seen women far more beautiful than her in his long lifetime. She was too skinny, her collarbones stuck sharply out, the bones in her hands were clearly visible. He preferred his women with more meat on them, but from the look of her upon arrival, it was more than apparent that her life was not one of abundance and pleasure like the women he was used to.

  But from the moment he had seen her, actually seen her, he had been captivated and stricken. There had been nothing spectacular about the stage setup, or the people upon it. In fact, he had not seen a single person on it, until she had been brought forth. He had not even intended to stop at the auction as he had moved by the proceedings. He had no use for blood slaves, there were enough willing people in the world without the need for unwilling ones, but when she had been led forth he had stopped dead in his tracks.

  She had been unremarkable, filthy, disgusting, and bold. Defiance and pride had radiated from her. They were a beacon calling out to him, snagging hold of his attention as nothing in years had. At first he had barely seen her, but the longer he stared at her, the clearer she had become to him.

  He sat back now, tilting his head as he watched her. She studied him with the same intensity with which he studied her, but they studied each other for completely different reasons. She wondered about her fate, what he was going to do with her, and what he wanted from her. He studied her because he could actually see her. It was amazing to him, fantastic and wonderful and slightly disconcerting.

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked softly, her forehead furrowing slightly as her gaze ran over him.

  Braith sighed softly, tossing the heels aside before he rose slowly to his feet. Her mouth parted, her head tipped back to stare at him. “What is your name?” he inquired.

  She licked her lips nervously, her small hands pulled at the sleeves of the sweater as she fidgeted anxiously. There were small nicks and cuts on her long fingers, calluses marred her tanned hands. “Arianna,” she said softly.

  He lifted an eyebrow, quirking his head to study her. “Is that your real name?”

  A small smile flitted over the edges of her full mouth, for the first time he saw real humor in her eyes. “Yes.”

  He found that he believed her as he settled onto the sofa beside her. “I am Braith.”

  She nodded slowly, her eyes weary again. “Yes, I know. What do you want with me Braith?”

  “I don’t know yet Arianna.”

  Fear flashed through her eyes, she recoiled slightly before straightening her shoulders, clenching her jaw, and narrowing her eyes on him. “Everything you do to me will be done by force.”

  Her defiance should annoy him (she had already defied him more today than anyone ever had in his life), but he found himself slightly amused by it right now. As long as no one was around he found he did not mind her show of courage. “You think so?” he asked softly.

  She looked slightly surprised, but it was quickly covered up. “I know so!” she retorted sharply.

  He shrugged indifferently. He didn’t know what he wanted with her, what he intended to do with her. He may decide tomorrow that he didn’t want her here at all; he didn’t believe he would, but he was known for his whims of fancy, especially when it came to women. He was captivated by her, and his ability to see her, but he didn’t know what he was going to do with her.

  One thing was for sure, he wasn’t going to force himself on her. He had done a lot of things in his long life, many of them not good, but he had never forced himself on an unwilling woman. There was no need to; there were so many willing ones out there.

  “We shall see,” he said simply.

  Her eyes narrowed in fury, her delicate nostrils flared. He didn’t know why he was baiting her, but it was amusing to watch her when she was irritated with him. Her jaw clenched harder, she turned slowly away from him, her hands fisting upon her slender legs.

  “Where are you from Arianna?”

  Her chin rose slightly, but though she was still holding the appearance of defiance, he could sense the pain that shimmered through her. “Around,” she said simply.

  “You live in the woods?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you a member of the resistance?”

  She hesitated, her knuckles turning white with the force of her clenched fists. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Resistance members are punished for their disobedience by becoming blood slaves, or being bled dry. It’s a way to discourage our fighting, isn’t it?”

  “I suppose so,” he agreed softly. “You think that is wrong?”

  “Don’t you?” she snapped.

  He sat back as he studied her. The bright blue of her eyes was ablaze with indignation and righteousness as she glared at him. “If your kind would simply just agree to work with us, then there would be no need for punishment.”

  “Agree to be your slaves in other ways you mean?”

  He shrugged again, without thinking he reached out to take hold of her hand. He heard her breath freeze as he tried to soothe the tight pressure within her fists. Her head tilted slightly to the side, those wide innocent eyes were surprisingly earnest as she watched him. “It is the law of the world that the strongest will prevail.”

  “And you are the strongest?” she demanded.

  “Of course.”

  Her eyes narrowed, her gaze was intense and questioning. Finally, she nodded slowly, biting nervously on her bottom lip as she turned away from him. She shook her head slightly, her head bowed as she fidgeted with the sleeves of her sweater again.

  “You do not agree?” he asked.

  “You did succeed in driving us out of our homes, forcing us to run and hide. You do feed off of us, so yes I suppose that makes you stronger. In your own minds at least. It does not give you a right to do what you have done to us though.”

  “Most people returned to their homes when the war was over. Most people picked up the lives that they had left behind. It is only The Resistance that has remained hiding and fighting and dying within the woods for the past hundred years.”

  She turned slowly back toward him, her defiance melted away as fury blazed forth. “Is that what you believe? That they simply picked their lives back up? That they returned to something good? That they have be
en thriving since the war ended!? Even within the woods, with no walls and no homes, we have more than the ones that returned to their lives. They are starving, with little clothing and no money. There were no jobs to return to that did not involve being some sort of servant to your kind. That does not involve being beneath you! There was nothing for most of them as your kind took over the better jobs, and forced us into menial roles that would keep us stupid and weak while building your people and your world to ever higher levels.

  “I have heard that there was a time when there were schools, when we were taught things, and educated. They do not exist anymore; they are things of legend, whispered about in awe, as so many other things are. Things that we used to have, and used to enjoy, but will never again know as long as your kind has anything to do with it! There is survival of the fittest, and then there is cruelty. I may be paying the price now for my role in the resistance, but I would not change a thing. I stood up for what I believe in, I have pride in what I believe in, and no matter what you do to me, you cannot take that fact away!”

  There was true rage in her voice by the time she was done speaking. Her hand was trembling within his, but she had unknowingly seized hold of his hand with both of hers. The fervor in her voice, the true conviction with which she spoke, was almost enough to make him want to understand her plea, her cause. But he knew the way of the world, and the way of the world was that only the strong survived. He found it unfortunate that her people had been relegated to such roles, but it had been necessary in order to insure that the humans did not attempt to rise up against his kind.

  Vampires had spent far too much time hiding and slinking within the shadows, fearful of the mob mentality of humans. It was where the myth had come from that vampires could not walk about in the day. It was completely wrong, they could move about in the day, they had simply preferred to hunt at night when there were less people around and the people at night were usually easier prey. But as their numbers had grown, so had their desire to be free of the shadows. He had helped his father lead the attack, taking them all into battle and securing the world for their own means. The war had been long and brutal, but in the end they had come out the victors and Braith had every intention of making sure it stayed that way. He was not going back to the shadows, and he was not going to let the inferior humans regulate him to such a role again. No matter how much she believed in her words.

  Although, most humans had little fight in them anymore. They were too weakened, too frightened and beat down to offer much resistance to the vampire rule anymore. Except for a small number of humans that hid within the woods, plotting against them, and causing more death and trouble to his kind than Braith would have liked. A small number that this girl was a part of.

  A kernel of anger curled through him as he studied her. She represented everything that he had been fighting against, everything that he hated so much, and yet he was holding the hands clinging so tightly to him. She seemed to realize her grasp upon him as a look of shame crossed her face moments before she released his hand completely.

  “I see.” She did not speak again, but simply turned away, her head bowing down. “I will show you to your room.”

  Her eyes darted rapidly around the room, he sensed her desire to flee, but they both knew that there was nowhere for her to go. “My room?” she croaked.

  “Unless you would prefer to spend the night in my room.”

  Her mouth dropped in horror, her gaze flew wildly back to his. He could hear the frantic beat of her heart pounding crazily in her chest as she made a small sound of terror. “No!”

  Braith found himself slightly insulted by her vehement cry. He quirked an eyebrow, wondering why this frail slip of a girl aggravated, intrigued, and caused such a strange reaction within him. She was nothing special; she most certainly was not the kind of woman he preferred, the curvy, graceful, beautiful, and eager kind. No this girl was hard, pointy, skinny, average, and anything but willing as she gazed at him in horror.

  “I didn’t think so,” he told her.

  He rose swiftly, ignoring her as he moved across the room. He only turned back at the doorway of the side apartment. She had risen, but remained unmoving by the sofa, her hands folded before her. He was surprised to realize that with the light filtering in from the windows, her hair was the color of a dark flame burning brightly within the room. The light was soft on her hard angles, making her appear gentler and prettier. He froze as he gazed at her, soaking the sight of her in. She may not be beautiful, but she was the most wonderful thing he had seen in years.

  CHAPTER 4

  “It’s a shower.”

  Arianna jumped in surprise, spinning at the sound of the soft voice. The prince was leaning casually in the doorway of the bathroom. Though his customary glasses were in place, she could feel it as his eyes scanned rapidly over her. She took a small step back, her bare heel coming in contact with the cool bottom of the contraption that he had just labeled a shower.

  He strode slowly toward her, his large body powerful and graceful. Aria tilted her head back, her mouth parting slightly as she gazed at him in silent wonder. She had not seen him since last night, but she had not imagined his size, his aura of power, or his hard masculine beauty. In fact, it seemed even stronger and more overbearing today than it had yesterday.

  He stopped before her, placing his hand against the wall beside her head as he reached around her with the other. Aria jumped in surprise, moving slightly away from the strange contraption as water suddenly splayed forth, wetting the back of her bare legs. She turned, her eyes widening, her mouth dropping as she stared at the water spraying from the nozzle above her. The prince turned the two handles below it, slowly adjusting the flow and heat of the water.

  “Amazing,” she whispered.

  “I suppose it is.”

  She started slightly as she felt his fingers within her hair, curling it around his finger. She turned toward him, unable to speak as he wrapped it ever more slowly around. She couldn’t move away from him, couldn’t reach up to tug her hair back. She could only stand in silent wonder as he coiled it halfway around his finger before lifting his gaze to her again.

  “You will enjoy it Arianna.”

  Her eyes widened, she swallowed heavily as she tried to calm the fierce pounding of her heart. For a moment she had no idea what he was talking about; if it was him she would enjoy, or if it was the shower. And at the moment she wasn’t sure either as she completely forgot that he was her enemy, and that she hated him.

  Then, his finger unraveled from her hair and he took a small step back. “I have sent for Maggie to assist you again.”

  Though she was glad that it was Maggie and not Lauren or Julia, she didn’t want someone seeing her naked, or helping her dress again. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. “That’s not necessary,” she said softly.

  “You are my guest, and as such, you will be afforded the luxuries of a guest.”

  She quirked an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly as she studied him. “I’m a guest now, am I?” she inquired.

  “You are whatever I decide I want you to be,” he growled back. Despite the fact that the heat of the water was rapidly warming the room, Aria felt a chill race down her spine. “For however long I want you to be.”

  She stared up at him in wide eyed amazement. The thin gown they had placed out for her to sleep in last night was beginning to cling to her body from the steam rapidly filling the room. Her heel connected with the shower again as he leaned ever closer to her. He was near enough that she could see the dark bristles of hair lining his hard jaw. Close enough that his strong, masculine scent engulfed her, nearly overwhelming her with its enticing smell. “Being a guest isn’t really such a bad thing Arianna, now is it?” he whispered.

  Her heart leapt, flipping over within her chest as he took a small step back. He was playing with her like a cat with a mouse. She knew that, but to her utter disgrace she was ashamed to realize that she could not help b
ut feel some strange, horrific, form of attraction toward the deadly, vile creature. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the tangled coil of emotions wrapping through her, but she found that she could only stare breathlessly up at him as he continued to lean over her, his hand resting just centimeters from her head.

  The soft clearing of a throat brought both of their gazes to Maggie. She was standing in the doorway, her large brown eyes wide and questioning as she glanced rapidly between the two of them. In her arms she clutched a couple of towels, a few bottles of something that Aria did not recognize, and what appeared to be fresh clothes.

  The prince stared silently at Maggie for a moment before stepping slowly away from Aria. He strode forward, pausing briefly at Maggie’s side to gaze upon the things gathered within her arms. “No heels,” he commanded gruffly. “And no perfume.”

  Maggie jumped slightly, her gaze darted instantly to the things within her arms. Her forehead furrowed in puzzlement, her dark eyebrows drew tightly together. Aria watched in surprise as her Maggie stared quizzically at the prince, her gaze rapidly searching his face as she shook her head slightly. Aria didn’t understand the woman’s strange reaction to the prince’s words. Perhaps she was the only one that didn’t wear the awful monstrosities that passed as shoes around here. But even as she thought that, she knew she was wrong, Maggie was wearing simple, comfortable looking shoes. Then why the hell did the woman look so confused by his words?

  Maggie shook her head as if to clear it, her forehead cleared. The prince was gone by the time Maggie picked the heels up from the pile and dropped them on the floor. Maggie turned her attention to Aria, who was too tired, stunned, and confused to offer any protest as she was once again scrubbed, cleaned, and dressed in another article of clothing that she never even would have considered wearing before. This time it was a soft green dress that floated about her ankles as she moved. Her feet remained blessedly bare.

  She walked silently behind Maggie as they slipped through the luxurious room she had spent last night in, then the small sitting room before it. And finally back into the main room. The prince was standing before one of the bay windows, looking down at the gardens. He did not look at them, but simply gestured toward the door. Maggie bowed her head, nodded to Aria and slipped swiftly away.