Her lips parted. “Thank you,” she said. Her eyes stayed open this time, although her unnatural stillness made him wonder how awake she was. No, not how awake. How alive. It was the lack of breathing that made her so still.
He drew his hand back. She made no protest. She felt warmer than she had when he’d first touched her, but there was still no mistaking her for human. But human or not, she was lovely, curved where a woman ought to be curved, not half-starved in the pursuit of some odd notion of beauty.
Chapter Two
Doreen hadn’t gotten nearly enough to drink from his finger, but she’d vowed she wasn’t going to force him—or anyone else—to give her anything. Not that she hadn’t been tempted, both with Charles and before. She’d been with a few men she’d meant to drink from, and yet she never quite got around to popping the question. You don’t mind if I have a pint or two, do you?
A couple of things stopped her. The law of the vampires was very clear—victims were not allowed to remember being bitten. It was easier to wipe their minds of the event when you’d already rolled them into submission beforehand, and Doreen hadn’t been a vampire long enough to build up the skill to wipe their memories without softening them up first. She’d set up the dates half-hoping she would give into her darker side to satisfy the hunger within her, but she just couldn’t take a person’s will away in order to take their blood, except for when she had been so out of her mind with hunger she could barely remember what happened herself. Bully for me.
The other problem was that she kept thinking of Charles. Mario had told her to dominate him because tasting his blood would fill the coldness inside her. And she’d succeeded for a few moments at the domination part, the first time she’d come to Dark Xanadu. She’d been inside his neat, well-ordered mind. Then Mario and the green-haired vampire who’d given her the creeps had died, and Pemberton, Lord of the Washington vampires, had come and dragged her away. She wanted Charles’s blood so bad she could taste it, but she wanted atonement more. She knew her existence was close to an end—if it was going to continue, she wanted it to be at his hand. If it wasn’t, well, it wasn’t much of an existence anyway, and it seemed appropriate her death, too, could be his choice.
“Thank you,” she said again.
“Nothing anyone wouldn’t do.”
She smiled. “Nothing anyone sane would do.”
“Maybe.”
It was a comfortable place, his lap. She felt relaxed resting her head in it. His arms looked strong—he was wearing a tight black t-shirt and the sleeves were well-filled—and it was too ironic that her own arms were stronger. Being strong was good, wasn’t it? Yet something deep in her didn’t want to be. The illusion that this man could protect her was incredibly comforting.
“Don’t look into my eyes,” she warned him.
He nodded and looked away. She suppressed a smile as his gaze roved up and down her body. That old saying “die young and leave a good looking corpse” popped into her mind. He seemed to like the way she looked, although she’d often been told she was a few pounds overweight in life. In death, the size of her body was fixed, unchangeable. No more diets for her, for better or worse. For the better except for the blood thing, yuck.
“You don’t have to play those mind tricks just because I’m looking at you, do you?” he asked.
“No, but it’s hard to resist. I’m still hungry.”
“Giving you more wouldn’t be wise.”
“No, it wouldn’t be. You probably should have let me die on the floor.”
“You know I couldn’t do that. What’s your name?”
“Doreen.”
He looked up at her. “Resist, Doreen.”
She blinked. Brave man, to meet her gaze. Maybe he knew some trick to block her. She was pretty sure he didn’t want her to dominate him. Nothing about him seemed weak. She was the weak one, she knew, falling under Mario’s sway. If Charles could enchant her, rather than the other way around, she’d have sought out his gaze in a heartbeat. “Yes. Doreen. Some people call me Dori.”
“Which do you like better?”
“Doreen.” Her mother called her Dori. Mario called her Dori. That was two strikes against it. Mother had meant well, always, but she never wanted to let her Dori live her own life. Mario hadn’t meant well at all.
“I’m a dominant, Doreen. I may not be the safest person for you to be around. You know what this place is?”
Doreen tried to remember. “It’s some kind of sex club, isn’t it?”
“It’s a BDSM club. You know what those letters mean?”
“Something to do with bondage, right? A kinky sex club, then.”
He nodded and chuckled. “For a vampire, you sound a bit judgmental.”
She shrugged. “It’s none of my business, really.” She tried to keep the annoyance out of her eyes, but doubted she was fully succeeding.
“Not just bondage,” Charles explained. “Dominance. Submission. An exchange of power, of mastery. And I’m not interested in you dominating me. I don’t think you’d enchant me with those eyes. If I had that kind of power, I wouldn’t use it on you, either.”
She shivered. A dominant. The way he looked at her, it was almost as if he thought he could control her, if he looked deeply enough inside her. And it was making her tingle in places that hadn’t tingled since she was alive. “Why not?”
“Because I want your submission of your own free will.”
“Why do you keep looking at me, then, if you are scared of me doing it again?”
“Because I want you to know you won’t. You’ve already decided you won’t, haven’t you? Or you would have, already. But you’re not sure you have the self-control, and I’m going to make sure you know you do.”
“You don’t know what it’s like, being a vampire. Being so cold, and so hungry. You don’t know what I’m fighting against to keep control.” She could feel how dry every vein and artery in her body was. The little she’d sipped from Charles only moistened them a little. If anything, it made the longing worse. She thought she could get to her feet, but she wasn’t sure. It felt so comfortable to lie there. “How can you be so sure? How will you even believe I didn’t mess with your mind to make you think I didn’t mess with your mind?”
Charles laughed, a low rumbly sound. “You keep that up and next you’ll have me believing the whole world is a product of my overactive imagination. I visited that path when I was in college, and it doesn’t lead anywhere. I’m a pretty good judge of character. I won’t tell you I can always spot a submissive in a crowd, but I will tell you I can spot some submissives. And unless I’m very much mistaken, I’ve spotted you.”
“You’re telling me I’m a submissive.” She frowned at him. Her heart gave a hard thump at the idea, pumping a few precious drops into her arteries. It made her whole body twitch. It made her thighs tingle. This wasn’t the way vampires and humans interacted. She’d been told that by the one who made her, Mario, and by Pemberton. Vampires were in control.
“Yes.”
“No way.”
“I’ll make you a deal. I don’t know if it’s particularly fair, but then I also don’t know who it’s more unfair to. You get to drink more of my blood…”
Doreen laughed. “If I don’t, I’ll die for good, I think.” It wasn’t like she could refuse any deal he offered her.
“And in return, you will be my submissive for the next week. You’ll follow every direction, unless it puts you in real danger. Are we clear?”
I’m only doing it for the blood. But even as she thought it, she knew it was a lie. She wanted to see what it was like. And she wanted to get to know this strange man who would stare right into her eyes, unafraid because he claimed to know she wasn’t going to roll his mind. He was right, but how did he know. “Yes. We’re clear.”
His wrist was close to her face. She could see the veins pulsing on it. Hell, she could almost hear the blood go swish-swish inside. But once she started, she’d want so much more t
han any one person could give. “Tell me when I need to stop.”
Charles nodded. “I will. And you’ll stop.” He sounded so confident, so sure of himself. He couldn’t be sure, could he? But she believed him. She sunk her fangs deep into his wrist and drank deeply. The sweet tangy metallic blood excited her tongue, thrilled her as she swallowed it down. Within moments, her heart beat steady once more, and the blood flowed in her.
“Good girl,” he cooed to her.
Charles said the word a few minutes later. “Stop.” She could barely hear it in the sound of the blood rushing under her skin, dry veins pulsing again with the semblance of life. His voice seemed so distant, even though her lips were touching his skin. She barely knew why she retracted her fangs and sat up. She wanted to drink more, and more. He told me to stop. She looked at Charles, and he looked a little woozy. He was still conscious, thank goodness. He had given her as much as he could, she realized. It would probably have been a fine full meal for a vampire, if she hadn’t been so starved. Even pale and down a few pints, there was still a strength about him.
If she hadn’t stopped at his command, she probably would not have heard the door open. The door was sixty feet away and behind the screen separating the coat check room from the rest of the club, but Doreen heard it clearly anyway. Her senses were better than they had been when she was human. They were at their best right after she had fed.
Panic seized her. She remembered the night she’d woken up drained. Someone had gone through her room, torn the sheets, cut her clothes, and left garlic and crosses hanging from every door. The crosses meant nothing to her. The scent of garlic was annoying to her heightened senses, but hanging bulbs of it was not the best way to overload her nose. What mattered was the message they sent: We know what you are, and we know where you live.
She had called Pemberton. His human servant took a message, but the call wasn’t returned, and her cell phone had run out of batteries two days ago. She didn’t doubt the message was relayed, but obviously she was beneath the concern of the Vampire Lord. She’d slept the days in hotels since, wondering why she cared if they caught her.
And now they were at the door. She scrambled to her feet, clutching the blanket around her. “Any other ways out?”
“Other than what?” Charles asked her, getting to his feet as well. Then, misunderstanding, he added, “Just say the words ‘safe word’—but otherwise, no, I don’t intend to give you a way out. But I’m not unreasonable.”
She’d spotted the fire exit and grabbed his hand, pulling him along with her. “Hunters,” she explained. “Gotta get away.”
“I’ve been called that before,” said a male voice behind them. A woman was with the owner of that voice, but she stood still while the man ran towards the office, or rather toward the sword hanging over it. She recognized him. Kent. She didn’t want to fight him, and besides, she’d seen him kill two vampires with that sword already.
“That’s enough,” Charles said. “Kent, you’re frightening my sub. Put the sword down.”
Kent had gotten it off the wall. He was bigger than Charles by a couple inches and twenty pounds or so, but they were both big men. Kent didn’t walk forward, but he didn’t put the sword down either. It was a long Japanese sword, and he held it ready in front of him with two hands. “She’s your sub, hmm? Looks to me like she’s been snacking on you, Charles. Get out of the way.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
How Charles could stand there in his way, with no weapon at all, was beyond Doreen’s understanding. She wanted to run to the fire exit, but she couldn’t let Charles get cut up or worse to buy her a second or two to escape.
“No,” said Kent. “I don’t believe you can. I think you’ve been enchanted. She’s tried it once before.”
“You know her?”
“Yes. I suppose you still don’t remember.” Kent was walking forward with calm steadiness. Charles didn’t stand a chance.
Charles didn’t even flinch. “Stay behind me, Doreen.”
That was the one thing she couldn’t do. She’d seen Kent’s skill with a sword, but he was only human. She was faster, stronger, even if she didn’t know anything about fighting. She stood more of a chance than Charles did, especially since she’d taken some of his strength. She stepped forward, towards the man with the glinting sword. She had to be totally committed, she knew, to have a chance against Kent. And she wasn’t. She didn’t want to hurt the man. And she had to admit he had good reasons for thinking she was controlling Charles. Only one way to play it really.
Charles grabbed her wrist, but she shook it off. “I’m not controlling him,” she told Kent. “But I won’t let you hurt him, either, to get to me.” If he chops my head off, Charles will never forgive him. I can’t let that happen, either. Dammit.
Kent stopped out of sword range, but he didn’t drop his guard. They stared at each other. He had some kind of defense against her glamour, she remembered. She waited for Charles to try to move in between them again. She’d have to shove him away if he did. And if Kent swung the sword, she’d have to duck and try somehow to disarm him. I am so screwed.
To her surprise, Charles stayed put, but his calm voice cut through the tense silence.
“Kent, we made a deal. She’s mine for a week. She’s not using any powers on me. Put the sword back. If you kill her, you’ll have to kill me, too.”
No!
“Charles, she’s…“ Kent paused, obviously hesitant to say the unnatural truth.
“A vampire. I know. I gave her blood, and she gives me service. That’s our deal. Put the sword away.”
Kent didn’t move other than to shift his weight slightly. Doreen tensed, ready for him to launch into an attack.
“Kent,” said the other woman, who had been silent until now. With all her attention on the men and the sword, Doreen hadn’t noticed her approach. “Let’s find out what’s going on first.”
The seconds of silence following felt like hours. Nobody moved.
Finally, Kent took a step back and lowered his sword an inch. Charles and the woman with Kent let out a breath they’d been holding.
”Why don’t you start by explaining why you’re in my club?” Kent asked.
So she did, starting with the hunters trashing her place and ending with the vampire following her. She watched Kent’s eyes narrow, and she didn’t know whether he believed her story or not. But she thought Charles would, and he needed to know what he was dealing with. She felt guilty. He wasn’t the kind of man to back down simply because she’d brought him trouble.
In a few hours it would be dawn, and she’d be of no use to anyone. Maybe Kent would chop her head off while she slept or the hunters would come. She’d lived with the knowledge she might not wake up at dusk for several nights now. This morning would be no different.
* * * * *
When Doreen woke up, Charles was sitting there next to her. From the sounds coming through the door, the party was already in full swing. Moans and screams, the crack of a whip, and the cacophony of a dozen conversations could all be heard over the surprisingly soft background music coming through the speakers. It took her a moment to decide none of those sounds meant clear and present danger.
She wondered if she’d ever get used to the sudden jarring difference between the dreamless torpor of day and the full alertness of night. This time, however, it stopped her from feeling too disoriented; last night and this one were separated by only the blink of her eyes. And Charles was right there, watching over her. Several hours’ growth of stubble had appeared on his face, but his kind smile was something close to heaven.
“Quite a party you’ve got going on out there,” she told him.
“Yes. We’ll be joining it shortly. In the meantime…” His voice trailed off as he handed her two bags full of dark red liquid. “Drink up. You can use your strength, and a little color in your cheeks will stop you from being asked for makeup tips by our resident gothlings.”
She
laughed, and then stopped abruptly at the harshness of the sound. Had she laughed since she’d been dead? She didn’t think so. It had taken her a couple days to master forcing her lungs to take in enough air to speak halfway normally, and her voice still sounded thinner than it once was.
She half expected to see him scowling at her after that bark of a laugh, but he was smiling, amused.
“I should leave, Charles. I’m putting you in danger by being here.”
“Kent and I are working on a plan for that. He’s making a few inquiries with some people he knows, so we’ve got a few hours. This club is pretty well protected, and Kent’s fought vampires before. He says we’re safe here, and I believe him. So for a few hours, it’s play time. When Kent comes back, we’ll find a way to go on the offensive.”
“Maybe I don’t want to join the party,” she said.
He smiled. “We have an agreement. And I want to play with you.”
“You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”
“No. But I’m going to enjoy finding out who.”
“That agreement was made under duress.”
“Yes. I know. But I choose to ignore that you’d all but threatened to force me, and I’ll honor our agreement anyway.” He grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ll bear up under the strain.”
That wasn’t the duress she was talking about, but she supposed in a way he was right. She could have made him give her his blood, if she’d wanted to live enough. It had been her choice to put her life on the line, not his. She concentrated on figuring out how to get into the bag. There was a liter of blood in each one, each as much as she would dare drink from a single human.
“How’d you get hold of these?”
“My friend Genna is a nurse.”
“So you told her what I am?”
“No. Between Kent and I, we convinced her we wouldn’t ask for such a thing unless it was really needed. I get the impression from Kent she knew about vampires once, too. Apparently her memory was tampered with like mine. What do you know about that?”
Chilled to the Bone Page 2