She even felt a weird sense of relief that he lived outside the city, as if living outside of it continued to keep her free from the rules that guided it. Surely that’s why he kept a home here outside of it - because he wanted to live outside the law.
Through another grove of trees, a manor house that looked stately and surprisingly not out of place rose from the scenery. Most places like this - outside of the city - had become just as rundown as some of the forgotten buildings within the walls. But this one looked immaculate like someone spent a great deal of time taking care of it to ensure it remained pristine to impress someone.
A few more steps closer to the building and suddenly three guards swooped down on her, none of them bearing weapons though. She took a moment to size them all up before finally inclining her head with a small smile.
“Evening gentleman.”
“This is private property, you’re trespassing.” She looked around in surprise as if she was taking in her surroundings for the first time.
“Huh, I thought I’d been invited.” They glanced at each other for a moment, uncertain now if she was telling the truth or not.
“Business ends before morning, you have no reason to be here.”
Now, this interested her, “business ends before morning?” She set her hands on her hips expectantly, staring at them waiting for an answer. They didn’t seem to be willing to give her one as each guard puckered his lips.
“Well, if none of you is going to speak, I want to talk to the head of the house.”
“He’s preoccupied.”
“I’ll see for myself. Let me through.” She started to go through them, deciding that she could take them. Maybe not all together, but one by one she could take them out. She was confident of that. It was just a shame they didn’t have a weapon she could take back and leverage against them.
“Can’t.” One of them stepped right in front of her like a brick wall and she nearly stumbled right into him.
“Seriously, if you think you’re doing your boss a favour or something you’re wrong. Go and get him, he’s expecting me.”
This time they considered her a little more seriously before the one standing in front of her turn to look at his companion, “Go and find Clovis.” It wasn’t a suggestion but a command. Quill noted this as she sized up the man who had taken charge out of the three of them. She could definitely take him if necessary.
“Who is Clovis?”
“Clovis is in charge of the main household, ensuring everything runs… smoothly…” He eyed her up, “he’ll know if we’re expecting anyone.”
Clovis, this could be the man who had accosted her. But then again he didn’t strike her as someone who wasn’t in complete and utter control in his own house. She crossed her arms over her chest, defensive at first until she softened, “I’m freezing. Can we go inside?”
They looked at each other once more before there was a short nod, barely perceptible and the man at his left moved to her, grabbing her arm before they started walking quickly to the house. She fought the small smile on her lips as she moved to keep up with them.
The man she assumed was Clovis met them at the door by the time they got there. As they got closer, she felt goosebumps rise on her flesh as she recognized the man from the auction. How had the guard gotten to him so fast?
“Release her.” The guard took his hand off her and she stepped forward, levelling her gaze toward Clovis. She felt distrustful and uncertain about him. A man who could stand there and placidly sell human beings to others surely had a bent moral compass. She had no doubt he wouldn’t be against doing some unsavory things to her should they be deemed necessary.
“Hi.” She kept her arms firmly against her chest, this time looking far more defensive.
“I wasn’t expecting you for at least another 20 hours.”
“Your boss underestimated how much business I’d have to settle.” Clovis pursed his lips before nodding again, yet another imperceptible motion and yet both guards saw it and reacted. Within seconds, they seemed to have disappeared, leaving Quill flustered and looking around her in a daze.
“Please come inside.” Clovis bowed and swept his arm toward the door, launching Quill’s eyebrow up toward her hairline. She stepped past him and looked around the foyer of the manor, taking in everything from the exquisite paintings to the pristine condition of the antique furniture. As soon as she entered the house the door slammed behind her and she jumped slightly, her nerves of steel wavering for a moment.
“Please wait here.” She held back the snort that bubbled up the back of her throat before nodded to appease him. Clovis disappeared further into the house and once Quill was confident she was on her own she started wandering around the manor. It didn’t tell her anything that she was looking for. She hoped that the walls would talk and warn her of the things she was getting herself involved in.
There was nothing. No hints. It seemed perfectly normal which only made her more concerned about what was going to happen after tonight.
She crossed through a sitting room toward another massive set of oak doors. She grabbed the handle and jostled it, starting to push the door open when a hand appeared at the side of her head and held the door with just his fingertips. She could push it open if she wanted to, but the gesture was one of dominance, telling her to stop.
She didn’t know why she did.
“You’re early.”
“You didn’t say I couldn’t come ahead of time.”
“I guess I didn’t.”
She turned around to face him, “what’s in there?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.” She quirked an eyebrow again, almost challenging him to tell her, but something about his face made the words die on her lips as she stared up at him feeling utterly helpless to his gaze.
“Why did you come early?”
“Goodbyes are awful,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to say them because then I would have to confess that I care about someone other than myself.”
“And that’s such a bad thing?”
“Caring for someone leaves you open to being hurt. When they leave, when you leave, if they’re hurt or worse…” Quill quieted for a moment as she considered the inevitable fate of everyone she knew: “when they die.”
He smiled down at her in a way she presumed he thought was comforting, but it looked more chiding like she was a naive child who didn’t fully grasp the ways of the world.
“Nothing wrong with death,” he said softly, his fingers tracing the hard curving edge of her jaw. A shiver of pleasure coursed through her as he did, pooling down in her belly. She hated how much of the sensation was laced with desire.
“Except that it’s permanent.” Her throat felt thick as she spoke like she hadn’t properly used it in a while. She didn’t feel right, her body felt beyond her. But then he grinned at her and stepped back, leaving her suddenly feeling cold and shocked.
“Some things are permanent. Death is not one of them.”
She cast him a doubtful look, “I’m not sure what kind of death you’ve been around…”
He smiled mysteriously at her before taking her hand and lacing their fingers together, “come along then.” This time when he touched her she jerked away in disgust. Remembering earlier that night when he had pinned her to the car, his body pressed tightly to hers like he possessed it.
“No. Where are you taking me?”
“To your room. You didn’t give me a lot of time to prepare it. You’ll have to forgive me for the people who are milling around it right now, but I assure you you’ll have privacy once they’re finished.”
“And what happens once I have a room? Do you lock me in it?”
He laughed and shook his head, turning to look at her again, “do you think that is what happens?”
“I have no idea what’s going to happen to me now. I have no idea who you are. You’ve told me nothing except the fact that you have taken women against their will before and would be willing to do
so with me.”
“Lord Nero-” They both turned to face Clovis, who stood at attention in the doorway. Nero. Something about his name struck her, not because it was antique and unusual but that it felt familiar.
“Not now Clovis.” The servant, because surely now this was what he was to “Nero”, bowed his head and backed out closing the doors on them. She was now locked in this room with a man who wanted her, was intrigued by her and more than happy to take what he wanted whether she wanted him to take it or not.
“Nero.” She practiced his name, watching him turn to look at her. She dared to describe what played on his face as a smile, one eyebrow arched in question. They stared at each other for a few minutes, Quill’s stomach in a tight knot. Her instincts were fired up but why, she had no idea.
Something about this mysterious man scared her, intrigued her, worried her and turned her on. But each conflicting emotion made it harder than ever to carry on her tough-as-nails act. He seemed to read her like a see-through book.
“Yes?” Nero broke the silence, amusement hinting on his tone at her distraction.
“What is this place?” She shook herself free from the reverie by forcing herself to walking away from him, letting her eyes roam on the objects decorating the room instead of on his face. It was a diversionary question, something that made her feel like she was back in control. There was other things she wanted to know from him, more important issues than discerning the truth of this place that was as much on the fringes as the compound was.
“My home, for now,” he said, making her roll her eyes.
“You know that’s not what I meant. These people, the guards, the servants… the fact that you live outside of the city walls without consequence.”
He followed her with his eyes, watching how she gingerly touched a vase from the 18th century in the Rococo style. He’d taken it from Versailles during a raid.
“They’re not my servants,” he said, “they’re family.”
“You boss family around?”
“They are family owing me a debt I should say. They work for me to pay it off, but I take care of them so it’s a fair exchange.”
“You take care of them, how?”
“Food, house, clothe. The essentials.”
“And they’re completely incapable of doing that without you?” She finally turned, knocking the vase over with her movement. With lightning fast speed, Nero was beside her, hand catching the vase before it could hit the floor and smash. That was all Quill needed.
“What the hell!” She gasped and backed away from him like he was a devil.
Nero admired her eyes and how wide they went, the way the flecks of green sparkled in her hazel eyes like light bouncing off an emerald. He didn’t seem bothered by her fear as he smiled, setting the vase back down in its original position.
“They could survive, I’m sure, but they would have to live under the council rules and here they are free to live as I choose.”
Quill wasn’t listening, she was backed against the window and her back twisted the curtains open. Nero hissed and moved toward her at the same speed as before. His arm curled around her waist and wrenched her away from the window before he yanked the curtains tightly closed. Her body was flush against his, every inch of hard surface electric against hers.
Lust attempted to cloud her mind but it was still reeling from his unnatural speed and the animalistic quality of his movements; there was something wrong with him.
“What are you?” Her voice was tight and choked as she pressed her hands against his chest, forcing him away from her. At least she tried, but he held fast. He didn’t even budge no matter how much she pushed. His arms seemed to tighten and it only furthered the fight or flight instinct in her.
“Do you want to know?” If he told her it could scare her more, push her away further. But then again, hiding his true nature was proving more difficult around her and he found little pleasure in the small thrills he got from terrifying her.
“It’s a little late for ignorance.” Her fingers curled against his chest, her nails biting against the material of his shirt and managing to scratch his chest. The sensation was enjoyable, his chest pressed harder against the nails for more. When Quill felt the shift, she realised what he was doing and jerked back, trying to peel as much of her body off of him as she could despite the tight vice of his arm.
“True, but I don’t think you can handle the truth.”
She scowled, not liking his doubt, “I can handle it.” She straightened up, steeling her posture because she wasn’t going to let him have the control he so desperately craved.
Part of the appeal of this woman in his arms was her stubbornness, her determination, her attitude toward the rest of the world. She was a fighter, he liked someone with hot blood.
“What’s your name?” If she was going to live here with him, he was going to call her by her real name. She refused to answer at first, staring up at him with indignation. But he arched an eyebrow, met her gaze and she felt herself melting in his eyes.
“Quill.”
“Your real name,” he said with bemusement, although approving of her sharp nickname - the perfect match for her personality and tongue.
“Izzy.”
“Another nickname. What’s your real name?”
“Isabelle.”
“Isabelle.” He purred her name, dragging the back of two fingers down the side of her cheek. She didn’t jerk away this time, but her muscles coiled tightly, ready to spring. His fingers carried on travelling, pushing up into her soft wavy strands before curling around the back of her head and holding her as her leaned in close.
His breath was cool each time it brushed against her skin, but she noticed this time he was forcing it like he was displaying to her he was breathing.
“What are you?” she said again, determined this time to not let him change the topic and distract her. He had a way of completely throwing her off, making her forget what she wanted to know. He was doing it on purpose which only made her more suspicious about what he was hiding.
“You’re sure you want to know the whole truth?” He released her and stepped back. The rush of warm air hit her and she realised his body temperature was unnaturally frigid. It seemed like a daunting question but Quill nodded anyways.
“Sit down then Isabelle, it’s a long story.”
“I’m fine here,” she said obstinately but Nero didn’t care as he moved back to her and at the speed of light she was sat on the couch with him looming over her, a toothy smile looking down at her.
But the thing she noticed most was that his lateral incisors were pointed.
CHAPTER 6
“No!” She gasped, falling backwards on the couch. Her mind reeled as it struggled to understand what he was showing her. “No, that’s not real,” she said firmly, shaking her head and childishly closing her eyes.
“What isn’t real?”
“You’re not a…”
“A…” His bemused voice annoyed her and she opened her eyes again to give him exactly the piece of her mind she intended to. But those fangs were staring back at her, turning her as cold as his skin. So she shook her head, it didn’t help but she couldn’t say the word yet.
So he did, “a vampire?” Her eyes leapt up to his face, begging him to crack a smile and tell her in some way that he’s fucking with her. But he shook his head, reading her mind - perhaps literally?
“What do you know about the… What is it the Desecrated call it? Blood baths?”
“The military came in and took control after several radicals tried to bomb government buildings.” She spoke with an almost robotic tone.
“Not quite,” he said gently, moving to sit next to her but it only made her move down the rest of the couch to put a distance between them.
“It wasn’t radicals that caused the initial trouble. My kind arrived a few years before the blood baths. Not in huge numbers, but enough that the missing bodies started to pile up. There were more rep
orts of serial killers when in fact it was nothing more than careless rogue vampires. It drew the attention of the council and one by one the council members came over. There was an opportunity to be found here. People were unhappy, society was falling apart; so the council gave them an offer they couldn’t refuse. But when given the chance for free range hunting the vampires flocked here in droves, and it became what you ended up calling the Blood Baths. We admittedly lost control and a lot of unnecessary violence occurred. Some humans tried to fight back but then others came up with a plan, the purity tests. This ensured that the innocents weren’t harmed by the vampires and received our protection while the others were fair game.”
“Fair game?!” Quill interrupted with disgust. “You’re talking about human lives that were wiped from existence for no reason. They’ve separated us and pinned us against one another based on our abilities. It’s sick, the whole system is sick. I was raised to believe my only worth came in how to kill someone and if I failed at that I would be “put out to pasture” so to speak. But what you’re saying is true, if I hadn’t gotten away I would’ve become someone’s meal!” Quill rose from her spot on the couch, turning to look down at Nero in horror.
“You are still, potentially, someone’s meal,” he said with quiet reserve.
“Yours?! Is that what I’m here for? Did I trade myself for my sister’s life so that you can have a blood donor here whenever you have a whim to feed?”
He rose quickly and moved toward her, setting his hands on her shoulders. There was a firm, reassuring touch to his grip as his eyes bore down into her. “No, you’re not just a meal for me. If I wanted to feed from you, there have been many opportunities when I have broken your resistance and compelled you. In those moments, I could’ve fed from you and I chose not to because that isn’t what I want from you. I admit, I have fed from Rose before. I didn’t know she was your sister, that makes this… complicated… I’m sure. But you have to understand the way the system was created and why it was created in that way.”
Desecrated Beauty (Twisted Fairy Tales #1) Page 6