“What?” he snapped irritably.
“Routine, sir. Just making sure the prisoner is secure,” the voice on the other end said.
“Prisoner is secure,” he muttered then immediately disconnected.
He looked down at his siren, her eyes still slightly glazed from her orgasm, and was almost drawn back to the bed as he gazed at her beautiful exposed breast. He had already crossed the line between captor and prisoner.
“I’m sorry, Allantra, that shouldn’t have happened,” he said gruffly, buttoning his pants. “You’ll find everything you need. If I’ve missed anything, ring the button on the wall. It’s connected directly to my room. I’ll bring you something to change into.” He headed towards the cell door.
“So that’s it?” She sounded angry. “Did you suddenly realize who I was or what I am?” She challenged him. “I can’t change being a shifter anymore that you can a vampire.”
“That’s not it.”
“Then explain why you were getting ready to fuck my brains out a minute ago and now you give me the cold shoulder.”
“Jailers don’t fuck prisoners. It’s against regulations.”
“Pity you didn’t remember that rule a second ago.” She turned on the bed adjusting her breast and effectively dismissing him. He couldn’t blame her; he’d acted like an ass. That being said, he closed the three sets of cell doors and licked his lips, the sweet taste of her still burning his senses.
*
She couldn’t have been more embarrassed if she tried. With blurry eyes she turned away from him, waiting for her cell doors to shut. She wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth like when she was a child trying to comfort herself. What was she thinking of anyway? She was damn near convicted and he was her jailer. Perhaps that alone explained the connection.
Maybe it was a last ditch effort on her part to connect with someone else. So determined to believe the lie, she didn’t explore it any further. She closed her eyes, feeling the wetness between her legs that he had caused. Her grandmother would be so ashamed of her.
Allantra stood up slowly scratching her wrist. She looked briefly down to see that her skin was now irritated and flaming red. She had to remove the disk or an infection would set in. Like it mattered. He said he would bring her clothes to change into, no doubt prison issue. Deciding to take her mind off the Executioner, she thought about her plight, which in all good sense required more of her thinking time than him. Bastard!
* * * *
What the hell was he thinking! He roared in his own head. He had been but a second away from plowing into that firm body. Never had he felt so out of control before. What was it about her that unhinged his discipline? His cock still semi-hard from her previous ministrations reminded him exactly what it was about her that unhinged him. If he were the type to squirm, he would have.
With an idle thought from his mind, a set of prison issue clothes appeared in his outstretched hands. These clothes would not do her body justice. He shook his head; he couldn’t possibly go back to her this wound up. He turned and followed the plush carpeted stairs down into the very bowels of the mansion where his bedroom was. He could have teleported but he needed to work off some extra energy. Quickly, he undid the mental locks on his door; with an almost inaudible swoosh the door opened on its track.
It was a true vampire’s room. Minus all the surveillance monitors on the wall that saw around the property and into her cell. She was standing, idly pacing, deep in thought, her eyes showing no emotion. He stood in front of the monitor watching her pace, his eyes never leaving the sway of her hips as she slowly walked back and forth. Hips that he could grab and pull himself deeper into… He muttered an oath and threw the clothes on the bed and set about removing the pants that now seemed way too constricting. Surprise! His cock seemed to say. I’m still hard! No shit, he said to himself.
Briefly, he let his discerning eye scan the dark room, done in total black. Only one picture adorned his wall, a huge photograph of a setting sun. The one luxury and regret he had in his long life. A huge bed stood in the center of the room, surrounded by sheer curtains all around. It looked to be the room of a man who had never known anything but the strictest values in life. His eyes returned to the monitor with her on it. A wicked thought formed in his head and he saw no reason to reject it.
With his eyes glued to the monitor he watched her, envisioning in his mind’s eye her kneeling before him taking his cock into her hot mouth. Slowly, his hand fisted his cock and squeezed. He could practically feel her gentle suction like she did when she kissed him as he stroked up and down. Her lips swallowing the length of him so slowly and sensually, he began to stroke faster never once taking his eyes off of her.
Then she did the oddest thing, her eyes seemed to glaze as if she felt his desire. She climbed onto the bed and lay back against the pillows. His breath caught in his throat as her hands slowly went down the front of her pants. He couldn’t believe she was doing this. He stroked his cock harder watching her. His balls tightened. He watched her hands massage herself, and then he could tell she slipped a finger inside as a low moan escaped her. If it were possible, he got even harder, his breathing coming in smaller intervals.
Then a peculiar thing happened, their strokes became in sync. When he stroked down she stroked in. His rhythm picked up, hers soon followed. Using her free hand she played with her breasts, alternately squeezing and teasing the nipples. He licked his lips, remembering how she tasted in his mouth. With a final tightening of his balls he came hard, spilling his seed over his hand. In her cell she came as well, her hips bucking wildly and a small scream tore from her throat.
For a few moments, they both panted heavily. And then it seemed she looked right at him, he stared back unflinching. Of course she couldn’t see him, but if he had to swear at that second he would have to admit he couldn’t be so sure.
He looked down at himself. Finally relieved but not in the way he wanted, still it was better than nothing. She just pulled her hands from her pants and lay back with her eyes closed. In moments he knew from the rhythm of her breathing that she had fallen asleep. He decided to shower before he went back into her presence. He willed the clothes into her room at the edge of the bed then headed for the shower.
Chapter Four
“What’s going on?” the vamp asked the human, his demonic eyes surveying the people in the small coffee shop.
“He did just as you predicted. Took her to the cell in his house.”
“Did you get a feed from his monitors?”
“Oh yeah, got some good shit too,” Hound said gleefully.
“Like what?” the vampire asked coolly, though he already had a hunch.
“Almost fucked her, not too long after they got to the house.”
The vampire just shook his head. The thing about being predictable was that it made it easy for one to trap another. Khaelen needed to get laid. That much he knew from having him watched. He handed Hound the packet under the table. “Just a bonus, you understand.” He smirked at the human then asked, “Where’s my copy?”
He felt the human take the packet and in return slide a small disk cover into his hand. “This is the goodie?” The vamp brought the disk into view, fingering it with his long nails lovingly.
“Got an erection just looking at it myself.” Hound eagerly responded. He could see by the look on the other’s face he had shared way too much information.
“Good. Then we have him by the balls so to speak.” The vamp chuckled.
“Do we go into phase two?”
“Yes, Hound, we go into phase two. Get ready for the shit to fly.” And with that, he left the human sitting at the table rubbing his greedy little hands together.
* * * *
Allantra woke to find clothes at the end of her bed. She had slept soundly after her second orgasm. She had no idea what had came over her, one minute she was trying to figure out how to defend herself and get out of this mess and the next, a strong wave
of desire totally flooded her senses, among other things. Before she could even think through what she was about to do, her hands went…she blocked the memory, pleasant though it was, and wondered briefly if the Executioner hadn’t entranced her. But then what good would that do if he wasn’t even in the same room with her? Yet it was like she still felt him. It was one of the best orgasms she ever had. She shook her head trying to clear her lewd thoughts.
What she wouldn’t give for a shower. With that thought, her eyes wondered up to the small camera she just knew was there but could not see. Was he watching her right now? Had he watched her pleasure herself earlier? Her cheeks flashed hot just thinking about it. She wasn’t adverse to the thought of being watched by him. Allantra spotted a small sink she had missed earlier, due no doubt to the enthusiasm of finding the comfortable bed. A small towel lay folded on the corner. She washed her face then removed her two-day-old clothes and settled for a thorough washing out of the sink. It wasn’t a shower, but she felt much fresher. Padding naked to the bed, she donned the sickening plain, scratchy uniform he left for her. “How romantic,” she mumbled to herself.
Allantra knew the Executioner would be sleeping now that day had come. It would give her the time she needed to really try to either, A: break out, which by the way didn’t look good—no cracks or openings anywhere for her to try her latest feat—or B: think of a strategy to defend herself. She, of course, would get a court appointed defender but since they were primarily second-class vamps, she doubted whoever it was would whoop up her defense. There was always Jah, however. A huge smile covered her face. While it was true Jah had gotten arrested as well and he was in fact drugged up, he still could be a credible witness to her defense. All she had to do was strike some sort of deal with him to tell the Executioner how she came about that injector.
Getting him to confess wouldn’t be too hard. No doubt they’d searched his apartment and found he made and dealt heavily in drugs. She just had to think of something that would make him want to help defend her. Suddenly she was excited. Allantra thumped herself upside the head. Only she remembered that the vamp would be sleeping most of the day and she would have to patiently wait for him to rise to toss him her suggestion. Surely he wouldn’t refuse to help her? Yes, he could be cold and rigid in his dedication to his work, but he also seemed honest and fair. He was a confusing piece of fine, male specimen. She walked over to one of the walls and browsed the titles on the bookshelves, looking for something to occupy her mind while she waited for him to rise.
* * * *
Just how long did it take for the damn sun to go down? Allantra thought irritably. The book she had been reading, while interesting on the cover, sorely lacked story in between the pages. But to be fair, it could be the fact that her mind was elsewhere. She ran her hand through her long hair and decided to braid it. Slowly she entwined the separated pieces while her mind wandered. To think two days ago she never would have thought this to happen to her. She knew no one would miss her. She had no more family. It did occur to her that was exactly why someone was setting her up.
Her wrist began to itch. She cast a suspicious eye at the camera, and then tried to casually inspect it while she braided her hair. It was getting infected. It now was a blazing red with raised bumps. She knew she had to get rid of the picture and soon. How could she explain this to the Executioner? Would he even believe her? What if he was in on the set up? He had just as good a motive as any. As long as his brother was alive he could never get Full Caste. As a Full Caste the Elders recognized Demetri Buscan as the one and only leader of his clan, thereby granting him the treatment due a king.
She gasped at that thought. She was being accused of killing such a person. It wasn’t like she had killed a regular vamp. Demetri Buscan was a Caste member appointed by the Elders. Who was she fooling? They would never let her go. She was definitely going to burn for this one.
On the other hand, she thought as she pulled a small string from the end of her uniform and used it to tie the end of her hair, with the Executioner being made Full Caste maybe he would show pity on her. Of course she rejected that idea as soon as it formed.
Allantra let her arms drop listlessly on her lap with her wrists facing up. She hunched over slightly to hide the view from the camera as she pulled her skin back and let the picture pop forward. That felt so good! Awkwardly, she turned the picture in her hands and studied it for the first time. He certainly looked familiar. She just couldn’t pull the memory from her brain.
Maybe her grandmother had been right, perhaps she did need to spend a little more time on current events. After burning the picture into her memory, she thought it wise to switch the picture to the other wrist.
* * * *
As soon as the sun finally set, she let out a deep, exaggerated breath of relief. He was an old vamp, surely he was up already? That sounded impatient even to her own ears. A half hour into the evening, the Executioner finally came; the now familiar swooshing sound rang in her ears as he entered.
“Allantra, please follow me,” he said, so cold and professional as if he was not the same man that had been ready to plow into her the night before.
“Yes, sir,” she returned with the same cold tone.
He showed no signs that her tone bothered him in the least. He allowed her to walk past him before he sharply told her to stop. She felt a cloth quickly pushed into her hands and snorted in disgust, before he tied it around her eyes.
“Prisoner is successfully blinded,” she retorted, one hand resting lightly on her hip. She thought she heard a small sound that could have been interpreted as laughter, if it were not for the company she was keeping.
They walked for what seemed like hours, but was merely a few minutes. So many twists and turns, up and down stairs, she suspected as before they were merely doubling back to confuse her. She was successfully confused.
He touched her arm lightly; her senses told her they were entering a very warm room. She could hear the crackle of a fire and almost smell its heat. It felt good. He guided her until the back of her knees touched the front of a seat. Reaching blindly, she felt for the arms of the chair and found warm polished wood. Then she sank down into the softest chair she thought possible. “Remove your blindfold,” his voice told her.
She did so slowly, blinking once or twice. Her mouth gaped at the richness of the room. It was extravagant. That was the only word that came to mind. She looked down at the seat she was sitting in, letting her fingers brushed the red jacquard material. The wood she had touched earlier was cherry in color and gleamed in the soft light of the fire. The fireplace was huge! It warmed the whole room. She couldn’t help but smile. She had only seen such luxury in a magazine. She shyly touched the table in front of her, gleaming cherry red with intricate carvings around the outer edges. It looked old but well maintained. It had to be worth a fortune.
“I’m glad you approve,” the Executioner commented, pride in his voice.
“How could I not?” she answered the questioned so quickly she forgot for just a second to keep her guard up. “I’ve never seen such a profuse exhibition of wealth.”
“It is not an exhibit. These are family heirlooms, pieces collected through our family history. They are more historic and sentimental treasures than monetary.” There was a bit of censure in his voice, as if he disapproved of her assumption that he was showing off his wealth.
“I meant no offense.” She sobered remembering where she was, why and with whom. “Why are we here?”
“Questioning,” he answered as if it were obvious.
“In here?” she questioned, incredulously thinking this inspired more relaxation. Oh… now she got it. It was to get her defenses down.
“You expected a cold room with one chair and light bulb?” It was the first time she heard any attempt of humor on his part.
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
“I am not a barbarian, Allantra, despite whatever picture the press paints.”
“I
told you everything at Jah’s apartment and to that other officer at the Quarter.”
“So tell me again.”
“The story doesn’t change.”
“Let me judge that. And yes, it is being recorded for posterity. For as much your protection as mine.” His voice strained on the last part, they both knew the law couldn’t give a rat’s eye about her protection.
“Look, I thought about something earlier, a way to clear this mess up. All you have to do is bring…” she began before she heard his personal communicator ring. He held up a hand to silence her. She huffed inside, hating to be treated like his subject, but she remained silent. He talked quietly, his eyes briefly flicked to her before lowering again. Then he snapped the device closed.
“How about this, Allantra, I’ll ask the questions and when I’ve asked all of them, you can tell me whatever it is you want, deal?”
It didn’t sound like a bargain the way he said it. It sounded like an order, one that she begrudgingly heeded. She leaned back in the chair then idly scratched her left wrist. His eyes seemed to zero in on her scratching, and she immediately stopped. He wrote something in his book. Then began asking the same questions she had answered the night before.
Two hours, one dry throat, a whole set of frayed nerves and one hungry stomach later, the inquisition finally ended. He set a plate with a cold sandwich in front of her and she quickly began to wolf it down. He clicked his pen and walked slowly around her chair then cocked his handsome head to one side as if expecting something from her. He moved so gracefully back to his seat, almost willing her to—what?
“What now?” she croaked out, the sandwich sticking in her throat.
He got up and went to a small movable bar and poured her a glass of water before he answered. “You had something you wanted to share. That was the deal, remember?”
Bloodlines 1 Alliances Page 3