“It's nice to have permission,” I said whisper quiet, but I knew he had heard me. “But, I play by my own rules.”
He growled and flashed behind me. I was prepared, I'd been waiting for the supersonic speed. So, I simply ducked, twirled around and staked him in the gut. Pulling free immediately and rolling backwards, feet over head towards the door. The stake had gone deep, nowhere near his heart, but an injury like that is debilitating to anyone. Master vampire or not.
He wasn't fast enough to stop me reaching the door. I had it open and was stepping through before he clasped my shoulder. I was surprised he'd even managed to do that. He spun me round, slammed the door shut and pushed me back against it.
“What time is it, Ms. Monk?”
I shook my head at him and struggled to lift my stake. His hand clasped my fighting arm in a torture-like grip.
“What time of the night is it?” he asked again, fangs bared.
I stared at him for a moment and then felt it. Dawn. It had arrived. I'd been so caught up in the fight with Avery, the last of the night had passed and with it the pull. I no longer felt compelled to hunt evil. I just felt so tired and bereft. And alone.
“No answer?” Avery drawled, his elongated fangs making the sound a little strange to my ears. “Then I'll tell you. It's dinner time.”
And with a menacing growl he gripped a handful of my hair and wrenched my head sideways and back. Exposing my neck. I expected his bite to be painful and quick. Instead he leaned in and inhaled deeply, then lay a wet, hot line of his tongue above my pulse.
“Sweat and adrenaline and the sweet smell of your blood. You are so fucking hot, Ms. Monk.” His body pressed into mine, pinning me to the door. “I don't know whether to feed from you or fuck you right now.” My heart beat faster, my mind was screaming no.
“But as you have managed to get stake to skin over a half dozen times, the fucking will have to wait. But, the moment I am healed, I will have you.”
As his lips came down on my neck, he whispered, “There is no escape, Ms. Monk. You. Are. Mine.”
Then bit.
Chapter 9
Captive
It takes even a level one Sanguis Vitam Master blood and adequate rest to recover from silver injuries, like those I had inflicted on Avery last night. His plan to seduce me, after feeding from me, never materialised. But, that didn't mean I had the opportunity to escape. He spent what little energy he had on keeping me contained in that room. On that bed.
His Sanguis Vitam continued to deny me my Light and his body wrapped firmly around mine, denied me access to my stakes or knife. Even whilst recovering he was stronger physically than me. I lay there, while Avery recovered, thinking about how desperately I wanted to get away from this man.
He was dangerous, on so many levels. He was Dark for starters and really, need I say more? But, he was also strangely compelling. That danger he oozed from every pore, was a beacon to me. It called me to him even though I did not want to go. But, I kept hoping, sooner rather than later, he'd just lose it. That the Dark would consume him and he'd simply feed too much from my vein or snap my neck. Or crush me with Sanguis Vitam and leave me a vegetable, unaware of the world and its evil, or the pain in my heart.
I didn't want to want Avery in my life. I knew I had to get away. But, because of my own damn need to be alone to face a world without Michel in it, I had alienated myself from those who would aid. My vampires. Samson, who I trusted above all others. Who I liked to just be with, not only because he keeps me calm through that Light bond we share, but because he's funny and sensitive and a friend. Sergei and Nataliya, my latest acquisitions to my line. I hadn't had a chance to get to know them. But, before I left Nataliya had been trying to win me over and Sergei had been determined to keep me safe.
They weren't the only ones who would have moved Heaven and Earth to help me. Jett, who was no doubt the new Master of Auckland City, would always be there if I asked. Doug the barman and Shane Smith, my curly haired vampire friend, both would come if I called. Even Gregor, who is lost to Amisi now, would drop everything to be by my side. I had friends. I had loved ones. And I had turned from them and left myself wide open to Avery's pursuit.
By the time Avery came along, I had been on my own for eight weeks. I missed home and those I knew. I missed my old world so much, that I was pining. That depth of longing for something familiar, had left me open to Avery's pursuit.
And here I was, pinned to a bed in a hotel room in São Paulo, Brazil by a Dark vampire who wanted my Nosferatin powers. So he could double his, gain acceptance in the Iunctio and use me to close the portals to Álfheimr. Oh, and probably fuck me when he was up to it. Let's not forget that.
I did manage to sleep, surprisingly. After attempting every move I could to get out from under him, I was so damn exhausted, that I fell asleep for several hours. My stomach growling woke me the first time. Avery managed to get me a snack from the mini bar in the room. Telekinesis is a nifty trick. Once fuelled up, I felt better able to attempt another escape. Avery was still too weak to move from the bed. The effort required to use his Sanguis Vitam on me continually, to deny me my Light, was making his recovery take longer than it normally would.
I didn't break free that time either. And the energy gained from eating was used up in the fight to escape from the bed. I fell asleep around noon for the second time and only woke at three when Avery decided he needed to feed. He didn't ask. He didn't shake me awake and let me know his intentions. He simply pulled me closer and bit. My startled wake-up and consequent thrashing against him – and who wouldn't fight a vampire latched on to your throat when woken from a deep sleep? - only made him angrier. He held me so tight I could hardly breathe. His growl reverberated around the room. And worst of all, he didn't temper the pain at all.
I've survived painful feedings before. It's not my first rodeo. Vampires can't help but punish bad behaviour. Just because you may not see it as having been bad, doesn't mean the vampire isn't pissed off and determined to teach you a lesson. To a vampire, punishment is in the offence. Escaping Avery to follow my pull was natural, instinctive. I could have argued that I didn't have a choice. It wouldn't matter though, I had staked him. Harmed him enough to compromise him. Punishment for that was a given regardless of why it had happened in the first place.
I'm just glad it was a painful feeding and nothing else.
After that lengthy 30 to 45 seconds of sucking on my vein, I couldn't sleep again. Although Avery did. But, I think I had learned my lesson by then. Trying to escape when he appeared asleep, was futile. It would only end up exciting him and I'd come to realise that that was not the way to go.
So, I just lay there and thought of Michel. Until now, I had believed that a dangerous thing to do. It would only lead to an ache so deep I would want to cry, but be unable to. But, now it felt like a balm. As though my memories of him had passed that painful stage and moved on into just sad, but also shining with good. I played every scene I could remember in my mind, painstakingly making sure I had it just right. From his mesmerizing deep blue eyes, to the shade of violet that they could turn. To his marble-like, cream, perfect skin. To every dip and ridge of his fine, fine body.
I don't know how long I spent remembering my kindred. His touch, his voice, his body. I think a few tears did escape, but they were mixed with a joy that I had known him at all. And to think, I fought him when I first moved to Auckland. Made him work for my affection, that was for sure.
Michel. I missed him. It was a part of my heart that would never grow back. But, I was finding ways to circumnavigate it. To bypass the ache and move straight on to dull acceptance. I'd remember everything and not forget a single moment. I would spend the rest of my existence nurturing those memories. Even if it meant I might be a little mad in the end. Spending more time in my head, than out of it.
In my head, Michel still lived. On the hills at my parents' farm, where he still visited me sometimes in my dreams. In our bed at St. Helier's B
ay. Where I will only ever be again in my memories.
I was just remembering Michel's body on mine, in that bed in our room, when Avery woke. I knew the instant he came back to consciousness, from wherever vampires go when they sleep, because he stiffened. Just slightly. Enough for me to know that he was in my head. I didn't stop the memory. I know it was cruel. But, Avery had kept me prisoner, he'd fed painfully from my neck. A little part of me wanted to punish too.
I let him see it all. From my perspective. How Michel made love to me, he didn't just fuck me. He took pleasure in my pleasure. In me. I let Avery see how much of myself I gave to my kindred in return. How much of me Avery would never get to possess. I let him stay in my head while Michel brought me to orgasm, again and again. And I even allowed myself the luxury of taunting Avery further, with my body's response beside him in the hotel bed. I let him smell my arousal, my desire for Michel inside me. My hunger for my kindred's release.
It was cruel and unnecessary, but it made me feel more powerful than I had felt all day long. Of course, there had been a chance that Avery would just get turned on. Vampires aren't opposed to voyeurism and Avery had proved in the past that he was up for just that. But, I was counting on Avery's increasing sense of ownership of me to overrule those erotic lust inducing images in my mind. Luckily, for me, it seemed to work.
His low growl against my neck as I came one last time in my head, calling out Michel's name, gave him away. His arms pulled me hard against his chest and then in a smooth movement he rolled us over, so I was completely beneath the length of him. It was obvious he hadn't been turned on at all. He was mad.
“You will stop thinking of him. He is dead and gone. He no longer exists for you. Only me.” He nipped at my jaw, like a wolf would nip at a wayward pup. Then ran his fangs down my neck slowly. “Respond to me,” he growled in demand.
For some reason, the sense of fear I should have been feeling at Avery's tone and threatening behaviour, eluded me. I was not scared. I was victorious.
“Michel is the only one for me,” I said with conviction from beneath his body.
He gripped my hair and pulled my head painfully back to look him in the eyes. His were all jade.
“Then I shall have to remind you, who your new master is.” He started gathering his Sanguis Vitam around us. Normally he wouldn't give me notice of such an attack. But part of the threat was in the build-up. He let me see just what intentions he had.
“I will be thinking of him all the while you punish me,” I replied, matter of factly.
He banged my head down on the bed. If it had been the floor, I would have been knocked unconscious. The softness of the mattress had saved me from that, but the action had wrenched my neck and pain shot down my spine. It only fuelled my adrenaline, it didn't jump start my fear.
Don't do this, I heard Michel's voice whisper pleadingly in my mind, so distant, so faint, but definitely there.
I stopped breathing completely, no longer aware of what Avery was doing with his Sanguis Vitam. No longer feeling the agony of my torn hair at my scalp or the still shooting pain down my back.
Don't make him harm you.
Michel? I whispered uncertainly in my mind.
Fight him another way, do whatever you need to survive. But don't make him harm you. Please.
It was the please that broke through my anger and adrenaline rush. The obvious plea in Michel voice in my mind. I knew I was going crazy, dreaming up a response that Michel would undoubtedly have made. But, it didn't matter that it wasn't real. Just because it was happening in my head, didn't mean I shouldn't listen to it.
I came back to Avery buzzing with barely bridled Sanguis Vitam on top of me, the start of sharp pin-prick like stabs of pain cascading down my skin. He had a stainless steel knife in one hand, he'd already sliced the palm of his other. I knew what would come next: a slice in my palm and the joining of our hands. I couldn't let that happen. I didn't hesitate. I reached up and stroked his cheek.
“Avery,” I said, almost too quietly. He didn't stop. “Avery!” More forcefully. “I'm sorry.”
“What are you playing at, Ms. Monk?” he asked, jade still swirling in the depths of his eyes.
“I don't want you to force me.” Honesty, sometimes it works. “I was angry, I was lashing out. I know he's dead. I won't think of him again.” Lying to someone who can read your thoughts is a tricky business, but right then a little of my Light came flooding back. It didn't quite feel right, but I wasn't in a position to question that right then. I just subtly shielded my thoughts.
“You walk a fine line, Ms. Monk.” Avery said, hovering so very still above my body.
“You like fire, Avery. You like playing with it. If you do this, my fire will go out.”
We looked at each other for a moment and I had no idea if I had said the right thing or not. But, finally he let a breath of air out and relaxed his shoulders.
“I want to punish you. I want to make you hurt so badly he is wiped from your mind. But, I will not force you to join with me. Like I said, you'll be begging me for it by the end of the week.”
He sprang off me so quickly I was momentarily surprised and then he stalked to the bathroom.
“Don't try to leave,” he said over his shoulder. Nothing else, no threat of what he would do if I tried. It wasn't needed. I was suddenly immobile on the bed. Tied up with invisible lines of his Sanguis Vitam.
I lay there and listened to the shower and let a slow, long breath out. What the fuck was I doing with this vampire and how the hell do I escape?
Night came like a Dark shroud being lowered over the land. It smothered the Light and made the shadows lengthen and warp. I had never feared the night before. But, Avery was stronger at night and any vamp who crossed our paths would be too. The Fey, they could operate day or night, so their threat was constant. Still, night had taken on a whole new meaning for me. I wasn't so happy to be in black anymore.
Avery let me shower and clean up. My body ached all over. What I wouldn't give for Michel's healing touch. I quashed that thought and returned to the main room, where Avery had room service waiting for me. Some sort of stew with beef and pork and beans. High on protein and iron, just what I needed. The menu card said Feijoada, a local dish. It tasted divine and I savoured every mouthful, despite the vampire that sat silently nearby watching my every move.
“What now?” I asked as I practically wiped my plate clean. I hadn't eaten that well in weeks. Goddess it was good.
He smiled, no doubt hearing my thoughts, I hadn't been shielding that one. And suddenly he looked like the Avery I had come to know. All tension gone, just pure wickedness and hot, lustful heat. I let a breath out in a silent gasp at the change in him. My mind telling me the real Avery was no longer here and in his place a mock-up of exactly the sort of man I would be attracted to.
“Do you have fey blood in you?” I blurted, without thinking.
“The Fey are toxic to us, Ms. Monk. We cannot consume their blood without becoming ill and weak. It is only your blood which fuels me right now.”
Yeah, thanks for the reminder. I ran a hand through my hair. The Fey had a tendency to lure you in with your deepest, darkest desires. They mould themselves into something that would appeal, just to trap you. Avery seemed too similar to that right now.
“Why do you ask?” he said, leaning back in his chair and looking divine.
Maybe it was his Sanguis Vitam. Maybe he was trying to lure me in using that.
“You seem different,” I said, cocking my head to the side and trying to get a handle on his aura. I couldn't, I don't know why I even bother. I'll never be able to read auras like Amisi can.
“Better I hope,” he drawled and then stood and stalked towards me.
The heat of his body reached me first, then the lust and hunger followed close behind. I hadn't been afraid of Avery before, when adrenaline was coursing through my veins and revenge was on my mind. But now, my heart leapt into my throat and I frantically searched
the room for my jacket and stakes.
Avery hovered over my chair for a moment. His eyes full of a bright jade. Slightly different from his usual shade. More vivid, not as deep. I puzzled over that briefly, trying to get a handle on why my inner monologue was humming and a buzz had started in my mind.
My skin was crawling with raw nerves, a relentless scratching against my flesh. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and felt a small track of sweat go down my back.
“I thought you weren't going to force me, Avery,” he had sex and lust and hunger written all over his face.
“I promised not to force you to join, Ms. Monk. I didn't say anything about not fucking you.”
I squirmed under his intense gaze, the humming of my internal monologue making it difficult to hear his words. But, somehow they were getting through. As was his scent. So strong, so familiar.
And so not Avery.
Several things clicked into place at once. I'm not really sure why it didn't occur to me immediately. Avery had trained me well. He'd spent two hours torturing my mind so that recognising an illusion would be second nature. Not only the fact that my inner monologue was quick off the mark to hum, but that Avery was behaving unusually, not quite himself. And then, his eyes. Jade but not a perfect representation of his shade.
And finally, the scent. Avery smells like an exotic mix of Moroccan herbs: cardamom, coriander and mint. Not peaches.
“Oh, shit,” I said, reaching for my Light, but it was too late. It was well contained apart from me.
In a blinding flash the not-right Avery before me reached for my hand and wrapped a silver bracelet around my flesh. I stared down at it in stunned silence. The silver catching the light of the room. An intricate design etched into the metal; flowers and vines and strange little animal-like images, all around the entire circumference like one perpetual scroll. I twisted my arm to see the clasp that must have been there, but only found smooth, unblemished silver. It was continuous. There'd be no getting it off. It hugged my wrist and left no room to move.
Shadow's Light Page 11