Brushing off his confused emotions he laughed to ease the tension before reaching out and sweeping a collection of hair from her face, holding it tight in his fist. Pain bit at her scalp and her stomach twisted with desire again, but it didn’t show on her face as she glared at him.
“Let go of me.”
“Not while you’re spitting venom.”
“Ironic,” she mused.
“I’m interested in what happened this afternoon to make you so vulnerable, you’re going to tell me right?” Before she got the chance to realize what he was doing the hold of his compulsion took her and she nodded like a puppet he was manipulating.
“I went downstairs and tried to free one of your subscribers.”
“I know that part. After that.”
“The vampire you killed found me and dragged me up the stairs,” his eyes flicked to her ravaged knees covered by denim, “he said he was going to punish me. He said that he didn’t care about your protection over me, that I had been trespassing and punishment was the only option.”
“And then what did he do?” He coaxed her gently, his eyes reconnecting to hers with a force that was draining even to him.
“Nothing,” she said truthfully, making Nero frown.
“Then how did you end up in a ball on the ground?”
“He threw me onto the ground.”
“That’s it?”
“It reminded me of my father.”
“Ah, your father used to... Punish you?” He hazarded a guess as he reached out and systemically started pulling her clothes off while she wasn’t struggling, regarding the extent of damage underneath. Her body was in full bloom with bruises, flowering over her ribs and along her collarbone. There were ones from the day before and others, far redder and angry from the last 20 minutes.
“Yes. When my grades weren’t good enough or my test results weren’t perfect. He said he was training me to be a stronger soldier so he would take his belt to me, his fists, whatever was within arm’s length.” He turned her over, and in her dreamy state Quill didn’t even notice it. His hands feathered over the angry red scars on her back, seeing for himself the extent of the damage that her father had inflicted.
“My father is an angry, hateful man as well. He would be away for months on end, aboard his ship and waging war on any village along the coasts he could find. His whores would always find a way to our village, taunting and begging my mother for help. He never cared for any of his children, even when he changed me it was purely superficial reasons. He wanted a supernatural legacy with him well into the 50th century I’m sure he imagined. Though not all of my siblings were cut out for this existence. But this is a delicate lesson we must all be taught...” His thumb traced the worst of the scars gently with a thoughtful gaze. “The flesh is weak, and from flesh comes our thoughts and emotions. As a human you truly cannot trust yourself, everything about you is weak. But you are strong my beautiful warrior because you understand that lesson. Love will hurt and scar you, trust will betray you and your thoughts are always misguided and dangerous.” He let go of her and let her turn over, facing him again.
Something about the glazed look in her eyes didn’t sit well with him, he hated seeing her so submissive. He released his hold on her and felt her shudder beside him as the magic withdrew itself. He felt weak from the exertion although he wouldn’t admit that to her. It would only make her arrogant to understand the amount of magic he needed to suppress her will, it would never be enough to have her completely for any length of time. She could never understand the full extent of her freedom and how unusual he found that to be.
“You asshole!” She threw a right hook into his chest as he smirked at her.
“You were avoiding my questions, it was the only way. Now, I think it is best you take some of my blood. The damage that has been inflicted on you tonight will be a long, drawn out and painful process to recovery. My blood will avoid all that. I am also happy to heal the scars on your back should you wish.”
“No! I don’t wish. Suck your own blood, you beast.” She stood up and deliberately stomped her foot down on his knee with a satisfactory crunch before storming out of the room. Nero reached down casually and readjusted his knee as it healed itself immediately. Her taste was still on his tongue, fuelling a fire he hadn’t felt in a long time. No mortal woman had ever affected him this much, but that only furthered his desire to possess her completely. He had to.
CHAPTER 11
The rest of the week went on with Quill seeing very little of Nero, for which she was thankful. Being around him was proving to be difficult. Not just because she was mad at him for using compulsion on her but because she could remember everything he had said.
The only time she had to put up with him was during dinners when he would always ask her the same question: would she allow him to turn her? The answer was always the same, but he never stopped asking it. Her cutlery scrapped the plate as she finished the last of her meal, setting the fork down on the fine china plate before looking up at him and bracing herself for the question.
Nero looked up from his paperwork, eyebrow arched at her. This was unusual behaviour, especially with the cold front she’d been giving him.
“What is it, Isabelle?”
“The deal was I was supposed to stay with you because I stole your Rose, but you let your Rose go free anyways. I have no way of knowing if she’s safe or not, so I want to go and see her.”
“Oh do you?” he asked with amusement lacing his tone.
“Yes.”
“And why would I let you do that?”
“Because I’ll let you heal me if you do.” She swallowed knowing this wasn’t the biggest card she could play but she wasn’t ready to give up her immortality. Not by a long shot.
“So?”
“Well I would be yours then wouldn’t I? You’ll have finally marked me as your own and no other vampire could claim me.”
“Your wounds have almost healed, there would be no benefit for you to drink my blood at this point except for maybe those scars, but you’ve lived this long with them.”
“That’s not exactly true. I have a heart condition.”
“A heart condition?”
“Yes. I’m in congestive heart failure,” her fingers tightened into a fist by her side.
“Heart failure? But you’re young.”
“Yes, but the stress my father put on my heart growing up has weakened it and it’s barely holding it together anymore.”
“Your heart is broken and you are dying on me?” He was shocked but tingeing his words was a disappointment, or bigger yet, fear for her.
“Yes.” She blinked, surprised by the way he spoke.
“How long?”
“How long what?”
“How long until your heart fails?”
She shrugged, there wasn’t a timeline on her actual impending death. It was just a matter of time they’d told her. It was still a mystery how she had lasted this long to begin with. She didn’t know what to say him so she shrugged, it was the closest she had to a good answer.
“You’ll let me heal you if I let you see your sister? How can I be assured you’ll come back to me?”
“Send a lackey with me. After an agreed upon time, I’ll return.”
“And during the day when you might run?”
“You’ll have to learn to trust again.” She sounded so confident like it was something he was capable of doing. He had been alive for a very long time and in that time there had been many people who had tested his trust - and naturally betrayed it. One of the reasons he had survived as long as he had was because he had stopped trusting so freely. Most importantly, he never trusted the people who seemingly deserved his trust.
Like his father.
His father had always let him down, time and again. There had been nothing loving in turning his son to this life, it had been a superficial reason. He purely wanted someone of his flesh and blood connected to him in a way only a sire bond could
create. And he had since broken that bond, much to his father’s dismay.
“Trust,” he finally repeated, setting the papers down in front of him and folding his hands together as he peered at her over them. “And how do you propose I go about trusting you? What attachment do I have to you that would guarantee you would be as bothered by my betrayal as I would be yours?”
Quill didn’t know much about vampires beyond the things he had told her. He suggested that by her taking his blood they would be connected, he would be able to feel connected to her. But would it be the same for her if he took hers? Logically she imagined it was so, that if he took her blood she would feel a similar connection - she would feel his betrayal if he thought she had broken his trust.
“You can drink my blood,” she said as confidently as she could manage, although that was the furthest thing she was currently feeling.
“I can… drink your blood?” he asked slowly as if unsure he’d heard her correctly. Quill nodded her head, immediately feeling regretful of the decision. But she couldn’t take it back so she hurried to justify her suggestion.
“You said that if I drink your blood you’ll be connected to me. So logically if you drink mine, it’ll strengthen the bond and I’ll be able to feel you the way you would feel me. Right?”
Nero nodded his head looking amused, “yes, that would be correct. We would be intrinsically connected. You would feel my emotions, you would know if I was hurt and you would feel the desire to come back to me…”
She imagined the woman in the basement, crazed with desire from the amount of times they had drank from her and how much the venom of the bite had affected her.
“Will I go crazy too?” she asked uncertainly.
Nero chuckled, “it’s unlikely that one taste will make you go crazy. You’re a very strong woman Isabelle, your body would be able to handle the dose of venom that would come from one bite.”
“Right,” she said with a quick nod before her next question popped up, “do we have to have sex to do this?”
“Not if you don’t want to. But I will warn you the urge will get stronger the more the venom and the connection take hold.”
“I’ll want to have sex with you?” she said incredulously as if the mere idea was unfathomable.
“Yes.” He seemed even more amused by the sudden turn of conversation, “it is a side effect. But like I said, you’re a strong woman. It is very likely you will resist the draw. Much to my chagrin.” He offered her a toothy grin, his fangs on full display.
Quill rolled her eyes and looked away for a moment, “trust me. My will to not have sex with you will always be stronger than some fake will to want to have sex with you.”
“We’ll see,” he said confidently as he retrieved the papers from the tabletop again and began reading again. She felt the sting of being dismissed but frowned because she wasn’t done speaking to him.
“So when are we doing this because I want to go and find my sister as soon as possible. The more time we waste the further she could get away from me.”
“This is true.” He agreed as he annoyingly flicked a page over with not a single care.
“So?” she pressed, forcing him to slowly peel his eyes away and look back up at her.
“Well, you may go and prepare yourself if you wish. You’ll have to remove your shirt so I can heal the scars and if there’s any other arrangements you wish to make before we exchange blood you’re free to go.”
She didn’t know why the dismissal bothered her so much. She guessed it was due in part to some kind of disappointment she felt that he didn’t seem happier she was going to let him drink from her. Wasn’t that what he wanted when he asked her every night if she would let him turn her? She was giving it to him - without the full-time commitment to being bloodthirsty and allergic to the sun.
“Fine,” she snapped a little more childishly than she intended to, pushing her chair away from her before walking out of the dining room. She didn’t know what kind of preparations he expected her to go through to ready herself for being drunk by him.
Her life had taken such an interesting twist in the last two weeks. One mission was all it took to turn her life upside down; now vampires were real and her home as she knew it was gone. She lived with a man who claimed to be thousands of years old - the direct descendant of a Viking.
She shook her head at the idea as she pushed her bedroom door open. He wanted her to shower, that much was clear. She decided she was going to clean herself for his meal, but she was going to douse herself in as many smelly things as she could find for his delicate sensibilities. He could drink from her, but he wasn’t going to enjoy it. She hoped.
The one nice thing she’d found of living with Nero and the other vampires was the amenities they had, which the compound hadn’t. Showers had consisted purely of cold water because they just didn’t have the energy to heat the water unless someone was positioned on a boiler for all hours of the day to accommodate everyone who lived there. It was highly unrealistic so everyone accepted that cold showers were a part of life.
The heat of the water she got from the bathroom here was luxurious. She could stay in the water for hours letting herself turn into a prune while her flesh turned pink and raw from the assault of such a hot temperature, but she didn’t care. It was so divine. More often than not she lost track of time when she was in the bathroom which was why it was a surprise to find Nero pull the glass door open and stare at her so unabashedly.
First she registered her anger and horror at his brazen attitude, and then she wondered how long she had been in here. She determined it couldn’t have been that long, she was only just finishing shampooing her hair.
“What are you doing?!”
“If I were to wait for you to come back to me to do this you would’ve taken well in the morning. It would’ve taken you hours to mentally prepare yourself for what you’ve offered to me. So, I sent you here to relax and take your mind off the implications of what we’re doing.” He was right, she had stopped worrying so much about donating blood to him and taking some of his own for her own benefit.
“Implications?” The severity of the word startled her and she arched an eyebrow at him.
He shook his head at her before undoing his shirt and shrugging it off. It was the first time she’d seen him shirtless, her eyes drifting southward to trace the hard edges of his muscles. She’d worked hard for the definition that was found on her abs, but his looked effortless as if this was the benefit of being a thousand and some odd years old. His hands fell to the waistband of his pants and her eyes naturally followed before realizing with a jerk what he was doing. However curious she was to see what lay beneath she didn’t trust her own physical reaction to keep looking. When her eyes leapt back up to his, she remembered suddenly she was naked too, spinning to face the wall so he didn’t have such a clear view.
It was too late. Her distraction with his body had given him ample time to devour and memorise every hard and soft surface of exposed flesh. He smirked at her reaction before pushing his pants down, stepping out of them and into the shower behind her.
The door’s glassy echo alerted her that they were now confined in a space that was incredibly small for two people and he was in front of the door so she had no escape route.
“I said no to sex,” she reminded him as she turned to look over her shoulder at him.
He nodded in agreement, “Oh I know. But since you were still in the shower it seemed like such a good idea to join you here. This way too, it’ll be easier to remove the blood once we’re done. Saves you the trip back here.”
“As thoughtful as that consideration sounded in your head it’s so entirely unnecessary and assumptive that I have to refuse.”
“It’s too late,” he said, reaching out and shutting the water off. Quill expected to shiver, but the steam of the water lingered, keeping her warm.
“Besides,” he continued, reaching out to pull her hair away from her neck, “it doesn’t mat
ter if we’ve seen each other naked anymore. We’ll be joined in a moment, you will belong to me and I will belong to you. Our bodies fall into that category as well.”
“You’re saying that like we’re about to get married.”
“We might as well,” he said. “Not that marriage was ever my style.”
“Might as well?” She ignored his second comment.
“Yes, such an exchange of blood is how my kind binds ourselves to our mates.”
“Mates,” Quill said back to him, suddenly feel very unsure of the offer she had given him.
“Yes, the exchange of blood is so powerful that’s why a connection is created.”
“We’re going to be mates.”
“Well, we pretty much are - aren’t we?” He smirked at her, letting his eyes trail hotly down her back and tracing the curve of her ass. She jerked to the side trying to block every inch of her skin from his wandering eyes. Nero chuckled.
“Surely after how many thousands of years you already have a mate?”
This silenced him and for a moment Quill was sure things had gotten so tense inside that shower compartment it was going to erupt. She stole a quick glance at his face, it was screwed up and dark like he remembered something. Or someone.
“No, I’ve never taken a mate. I’ve never been interested in a woman like this before.”
“A woman like me?”
“That is what I mean.”
“So why take me as a mate then if you’ve never done it.”
“It seems this is the only way to keep you happy.”
“Whoa - whoa…” She held up her hands, uncovering her breasts with the gesture and his eyes briefly flew to them before snapping back up to her face with an air of self-control. “I never said I wanted to be mates with you. I offered you a solution to your trust issue and you took it.”
“Do you not think allowing myself to take a mate when I have not once ever done so is trusting you?” She opened her mouth to argue before quickly snapping it shut because he was right. He was doing exactly what she asked him to do: trust her.
Desecrated Beauty (Twisted Fairy Tales #1) Page 11