“I’m not wearing that.”
The bigger man with the beard and long hair who’d been lurking behind them stepped forward. When he spoke, she recognised his deep voice from when she’d first been brought here. “I’m afraid you don’t have much choice.”
She snorted. “I think I do. I just won’t put it on.”
“In which case, we’ll have to come in there with you, take off all your clothes, and do it for you.”
The idea of the men holding her down while they stripped her to her underwear made her shrink with horror.
“That’s not all.” He held out a second bag and pushed it between the bars towards her, holding it open so she could see inside.
Lauren darted forward. She dared to peer inside, hoping to find a bottle of water or maybe even something to eat, but she was to be disappointed.
The man pushed his hand through the bars and reached in and pulled out the items.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Pinched between his fingertips was a lacy, black, strapless bra and matching thong. Together with the underwear, there was also a set of three inch, strappy heels she knew she’d never be able to walk in.
“I’m not wearing that,” she muttered again.
But he heard her. “Would you prefer to wear no underwear? That can be arranged, you know.”
The idea of being naked beneath the dress made her stomach curdle.
What the hell was this? Were they getting her dressed up so they could sell her for a higher price? Yes, that must be what they were doing. Her bladder was uncomfortably full, and she was tempted to relieve herself all over the damned dress, but only her own pride held her back. Knowing her luck, they’d probably force her to wear it anyway.
“I need the bathroom,” she muttered, her cheeks flaring with heat. “Take me to the bathroom, and I’ll get changed in there.”
He pursed his lips. “You’ll need to let go of whatever modesty you think you have,” he said. “Your body is no longer your own. You don’t yet know it, but you already belong to someone else, someone who has paid a great deal of money for you. You’re an unusual specimen. Blood like yours goes for a high price.”
Goosebumps rose on her arms. “Blood like mine?”
“Yes, with your ancestry.” He looked at her, his eyes narrowed as he assessed her. “You don’t know, do you?”
She shook her head. “Clearly not.”
“You have fae blood running through your veins. One of the oldest bloodlines of fae.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Fae? You mean fairy? You’re saying I have fairy blood?” The whole idea was ridiculous. Her mother was as far from being anything special or paranormal as it was possible to get. Of course, she knew such things existed, but she certainly didn’t have anything like that in her family line. But then, she didn’t know much about her father’s side, did she? But surely if she was something like that, her parents would have known. Wouldn’t they have cherished her more? Wouldn’t her father have bothered to stick around if he was more than just human?
“You’re wrong,” she said, finally. “I’m nothing special. My father was a waste of space who left the moment my mother got pregnant, and my mother is a drunk. You’ve got the wrong person.”
“We definitely haven’t. I can smell it on you now. That makes it very unusual, and gives a certain sweet taste to vampires.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re selling me to a vampire?”
“No, you’re already sold.”
“Are you a vampire?” He didn’t look like a vampire—his skin too dark from being out in the daylight, and he was just too ... hairy.
He snorted. “Me? God, no. I’m a wolf-shifter, but I have my connections.”
So, she’d been sold to a vampire as some kind of blood-letting sex slave because she had fae blood in her ancestry. Could the world get any crazier?
“Will you let me change in the bathroom?” she tried again. “If these are to be my last moments of privacy, can’t you at least give me that much and allow me to take them?”
He sighed, long and drawn out, as though she was being the biggest inconvenience in the world to him. “Very well.” He nodded to the two other men. “Take her through to the staff changing room. Make sure no one else goes in there while she’s changing.”
The two men nodded in unison. “Yes, sir.”
The gate was unlocked, and Lauren’s heart picked up pace. She still had her hands bound, but if they wanted her to be able to dress herself, they’d have to cut the tape. If she was going to a changing room, maybe there would be the belongings of other people in there. She might find a mobile phone, if she was lucky, and call the police. Or there might even be a window she’d be able to climb out of.
They walked her along the corridor until they came to a second door. Any hopes of there being a window to climb out of faded. They were still below ground. She might struggle to get a signal from a mobile phone as well, but at least if she did find one, she might be able to hide it on her somewhere until they took her up into the main part of the club. If she was to be passed on to some sick fuck of a vampire, it wasn’t as though they could keep her down here the whole time.
The reason they’d been waiting for night to fall again struck her. It wasn’t because it was easier to move her at night. It was because the vampire most likely wouldn’t be able to walk in the day.
The men entered the changing rooms with her. Toilet cubicles were at the back of the room. Coats hung from pegs, but there were lockers, which was most likely where the staff members’ bags were kept. Damn it. If they had phones, they’d either still have them on their person, or they’d have them locked up. Still, it was worth checking the coat pockets, though, just in case.
The man holding the dress hung it up on one of the hooks.
“You’re going to have to cut the tape around my wrists if I’m going to be able to dress myself,” she said.
The men exchanged a glance.
The head guy nodded. “Yes, cut the tape. There’s nowhere she can go down here, anyway, and it’s not as though she’s going to get past us.” He gave a wicked smile, revealing canines she was sure hadn’t been there a moment ago. “You wouldn’t want to try to outrun three wolves, would you? We’re known to get feisty in wolf form, easy with our teeth and other parts of our bodies. Did you know wolves get locked together after they mate? Sometimes for up to an hour? I can’t imagine you’d want to spend an hour with one of us in wolf form, now, would you?”
The thought made her shudder, fear causing her spit to grow thick on the back of her tongue, making it hard for her to swallow.
“It’s fine,” she managed. “I won’t run. I just want to get changed in privacy. Especially if it’s to be my last time.”
What would the vampire she was being sold to be like? From the little she knew of them, she knew they could be old—sometimes hundreds of years old. Lauren wrinkled her nose at the thought. It was weird to think of being around someone who had been walking the earth that long. No wonder they thought of mortals as being of little consequence. Humans must appear to be little more than children to them—unknowledgeable, with no experience to speak of.
“Glad to hear it.” He nodded to one of the men. “Cut her free.”
The man stepped forward and lifted his hand. Lauren let out a scream as the fingers suddenly morphed into a paw, and the blunt nails of what had previously been his human hand became long and sharp. Claws. With his other hand, which was still human, he spun her around so her back was to him. Lauren tensed every muscle in her body, her eyes squeezed shut. She felt the movement of air across the back of her neck as he swiped the clawed paw downward. A moment later, the tension across her wrists gave way, and she realised he’d used his claws to cut apart the tape.
She exhaled a long, shaky breath and pulled her hands around to the front of her body, peeling off the remaining tape and rubbing her sore wrists.
He picked up the dress and the bag co
ntaining the underwear and shoes and shoved them into her arms. “There.” He nodded towards one of the toilet stalls. “Go and get changed. We’ll be waiting right here.”
Her heart sank. She wasn’t even going to get the freedom to check the coat pockets.
“It’s a big dress,” she tried. “It’s going to get dirty all squashed up in a bathroom stall.”
He glowered at her, and she caught a hint of yellow in his eyes. She remembered his threat, and light-headedness made the room tilt.
“You’ll manage,” he growled.
She didn’t have much choice.
Lauren went into the toilet stall and shut and locked the door behind her. She wished she could sit down and just put her head in her hands and figure out what the fuck she was going to do, but she was painfully aware of the three men standing right on the other side of the door. Instead, she hooked the dress over the back of the door and set about peeling off her jeans and t-shirt.
Though she didn’t think they could see her, she still used her arm to cover her breasts as she took off her old but comfortable bra. She checked the new set of underwear she’d been given. La Perla. It looked like whoever had bought her had expensive taste. This set alone probably cost five hundred pounds, if not more. She didn’t dare think how much the dress had cost. Probably more than she’d see in a year.
Lauren quickly swapped her old stuff for the new, and then unhooked the dress. She pulled it on, glad the zip was at the side and not the back, so she didn’t have to ask for help.
The dress was stunning. The bodice nipped her in beautifully at the waist, the long skirt flaring out in layers, the neckline scalloped to highlight the shape of the tops of her breasts. Finally, she slipped her feet into the heels, and immediately her posture changed—her shoulders went back, her chin lifted, and she found herself holding in her already slender stomach.
Ah, so this was why they’d made her change. This was the woman they wanted to sell on, not some grubby little street urchin.
The thought made her want to tear the clothes from her body again, but what would be the point? The head werewolf’s threat hung over her, and she didn’t want to risk his wrath. She needed to play ball until an opportunity arose to make a run for it, or at least call for help.
Taking another deep breath, and trying not to notice how her hand trembled when she reached for the lock, she slid it back across and opened the door.
The three men’s eyes widened when they saw her, and a slow smile spread across the bearded man’s face. “Well, I think our vampire will be more than happy with his purchase, but, just as an insurance...”
He stepped forward and grabbed her forearm, yanking it out towards him. Moving quickly, before she even got the chance to react, he’d slipped a syringe into a vein in her wrist, and she watched in horror as her blood filled the vial.
Lauren gasped, clutching her arm. “What did you do that for?”
“To give the vampire who has bought you a taste of what’s to come. Once he’s got a taste of you, he’ll be addicted. There’s no way he’ll go back on our deal.”
Chapter 7
The moment the sun set, Nikolai bolted upright in bed.
He’d barely even woken, but already The Thirst had taken hold. The back of his throat was like someone had been stabbing him with glass, and he could barely swallow. A rage bubbled up inside him, and he knew if he didn’t get blood into him immediately, he’d rip his apartment to shreds and then go in hunt of the first human he could find. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself either. He’d drink from them, and he wouldn’t be able to stop, he’d just swallow, and swallow, and swallow until he’d drained them dry. The thought only made him want it more, so he barged his way out of his bedroom door and into the living area of his penthouse.
He drew up short. To his surprise, Ivan was sitting on his couch.
“I ...” he started, his voice like rusted metal against metal. He cleared his throat, but it did nothing to dislodge the desire to consume. “I thought you’d left last night.”
Ivan got to his feet and handed something over to him. A blood bag. Unable to think, he snatched it from Ivan’s hands and tore off the top before gulping it down. He didn’t care if he spilled any, or what he looked like, only that he needed the blood down his throat immediately.
Ivan just stood there, watching him until he’d finished. When he had, he took the empty bag and handed him a new one. Nikolai was able to consume this one with a little less desperation, but he could still feel The Thirst pecking away at his mind, urging him to seek out more.
“I couldn’t leave you like this,” Ivan said eventually. “You are my creation, after all.”
“It’s not like you to care so much.”
Ivan gave a small laugh. “You’re still my responsibility. If you go on a rampage across the city, people will look to me first.”
“I need to go back to the wolf’s club,” Nikolai said. “I need to find whoever that scent belonged to.” It had been the only moment his mind had been calm since The Thirst had struck.
His maker nodded. “As much as it pains me to say, I agree with you. Finding your Bloodmate is the only way we’re going to make this stop.”
“Let’s go, then.”
Ivan pointed to something on Nikolai’s shirt. “You may want to change first.”
He glanced down to see spatters of red across the material from when he’d been in such a rush to devour that he hadn’t cared that he’d spilled some. “Dammit.”
Using his vampire’s speed, he whisked back into his bedroom, changed his blue shirt for a black one, figuring at least the black wouldn’t show up any more blood—because he was certain there would be more blood—and then rejoined Ivan at the front door.
Within minutes, they were back in the car, with Nikolai driving. His fingers were tight around the steering wheel, his knuckles even whiter than normal. London traffic wasn’t great, but at least it wasn’t rush hour. The club was located in Mile End, so not too far from the Docklands, but even the twenty minute drive was going frustratingly slowly. He was tempted to dump the vehicle and run the rest, but he didn’t know if he’d need the transport on the other end when he found whoever the scent belonged to. Plus, they tried to look and act as human as possible, and after the show he’d put on at the club last night, he didn’t think arriving at his vampire’s speed would earn him any favours.
His nostrils flared, his olfactory senses igniting. The scent already caught him before he’d even pulled the car over. He barely bothered to park, just pulled up against the curb and climbed out.
“Nikolai!”
Ivan called after him, but Nikolai didn’t as much as pause. He was in its grasp again, that glorious scent of vanilla, and cut grass, and clean skin. He’d been terrified the owner of the scent would have left while he’d been sleeping through the day, but she hadn’t. She was still here, he was sure of it, and he would find her even if it meant tearing this entire place to pieces.
Because it was still early, the club wasn’t fully open yet. There weren’t the lines of people waiting outside to get in, and though he could hear music, it wasn’t the ear-bashing thump thump thump of the previous night.
“She’s this way,” he called to Ivan. “I can scent her on the air.”
It drew him in, pulling him like an invisible cord, pulling him tighter and tighter. I’m coming for you. He tried to send his thoughts out to her, even though he knew such a thing was ridiculous. In fact, he hadn’t given any thought to how this woman was going to react when a half-century old vampire appeared in front of her and informed her he was her Bloodmate, and she was his.
The two vampires whisked through the club, with Nikolai leading the way. He was literally following his nose. The staff preparing the club for opening looked up at them in surprise as they passed through. Someone called out, “hey,”, but they both ignored the shout. There was no sign of Deacon Thorn or any of the other wolves who’d been present the previous night.<
br />
Nikolai left the main part of the club and entered the rear corridor. The scent of his Bloodmate grew stronger, and he picked up his pace, knowing he was getting closer. His pulse raced in anticipation.
He reached a door which opened out onto a set of concrete steps leading down. Nikolai didn’t even pause to glance back and see if Ivan was following. He was caught up in the euphoria of finding her, the feeling drowning out the taint of The Thirst that had been eating him away since the previous night. The nearer he got to her, the less he was aware of The Thirst and the more he was swept up in his need to be near her.
The stairs led to a network of low-ceilinged corridors. Nikolai raced through them, ignoring doors and turnings he knew wouldn’t lead to her.
Finally, he reached the end of a corridor and came to a halt. An iron gate divided him from what appeared to be a store cellar. Behind the bars, a beautiful woman stared back at him with wide, dark eyes. She was dressed as though she was going to a ball—a fairytale princess in a Grimm situation.
“You’re the vampire,” she said, as though she had been expecting him.
He nodded. “Yes, I am.”
Confusion flitted across her face. “But ... but ... I heard your voice in my head.”
It was his turn to be confused. “You did? How?”
“I was hoping you might be able to answer that.”
From beside him, Ivan called out a warning. “You might want to hurry things along, Nikolai. The wolves are coming.”
Nikolai nodded and turned back to the bars. A chain linked them together, and he took hold of it and, using his vampire strength, tore the chain links apart. The door swung open.
He put out his arms to her. “Come on.”
But she took a step back. “No, I won’t go with you.”
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