by Ann Lory
Looking over every inch of her neck, she was shocked to find nothing, no evidence that he’d ever bitten her. How was that possible? She dropped her hair, shoulders slumped, before venturing to the shower at the end of the room. Alyssa slipped her jeans over her hips and stepped from the denim that pooled on the floor at her ankles. Then she removed her shirt, bra, and panties. Entering the shower, she flipped on the water, sighing as warm water rushed over her body.
She didn’t know how long she stayed there. The cascading fluid felt so good, relieving the tension from her muscles, but her biggest reason for remaining where she was, the one she didn’t want to admit, was that she was afraid to face him. Not because she thought he’d hurt her. Worse, something about him touched her on a primal level.
He seemed so cruel one minute, then gentle the next, as though he wanted to be kind, but didn’t quite know how. It confused and irritated her all at the same time.
And what was it with his claim of wanting to help her? Help her do what? He’d almost seemed protective, but she didn’t want or need a vampire to protect her. Vampires had killed her family, and now one was suddenly pushing his way into her life. He was keeping her from taking apart the one who had killed those most dear to her.
How would she escape? He was right about being too strong for her. Her mind churned, but no possibilities came to mind. Alyssa slid to the floor of the stall. Had she come up empty-handed again, failed her family despite seven years of searching for D’Angel? Her tears were scalding compared with the rapidly cooling water.
She clenched her fists against her knees and let the water beat down at her. She had to escape, find justice for her wronged loved ones. She had to.
Get out of the shower!
Alyssa scrambled to her feet, peering around the shower door, but the room was empty. “Where are you?”
Upstairs. Would you rather I return and help you finish washing?
“No, I wouldn’t.” She scrubbed at her face and scowled up at the ceiling, as if in doing so she could burn a hole straight through to him. “Leave me alone.”
She heard a soft chuckle in her mind and thought she saw a flash of gleaming white teeth. Angrily, she quickly finished her ablutions, shut off the water, and stepped from the shower. Grabbing a towel from the linen rack beside the stall, she dried off, then slipped back into her clothes. She glanced cursorily in the mirror as she pulled her wet hair into a messy bun, then exited the room and outer chamber.
The stairs leading up to the next level were dark. She had to force herself to walk up slowly instead of running. As she reached the main floor, she was pleasantly surprised to discover he lived in a spacious and colorful home that reminded her of pictures she’d seen of Italy and Spain. She’d thought the rest of the house would be as gray as his bedroom below.
She entered what appeared to be the living room; windows lined one wall and provided an excellent view of the ocean. Sheer curtains fell down over the slightly opened panes and swayed with the breeze as they allowed the sea air to waft into the room. A tan wraparound couch sat near the ivory fireplace, with matching wooden end tables and lamps. The floors were hardwood, gleaming under the moonlight that spilled into the room.
He’d been reading her thoughts again. “I did not design or decorate the house. I leave it to others to make the place look habitable, as I rarely spend time here.”
She whirled to face him. “Quit doing that.”
“Quit what? Reading your thoughts?” One dark eyebrow arched. “They are so loud I can’t help but hear them.”
Alyssa frowned. “I don’t care how loud they are. Stop it.” Something seemed to tug at the corners of his mouth, but surely she was mistaken.
“Come, I’ll show you the rest of the house.” He walked away from her and stepped down into another room that held a large screen TV, then disappeared around a corner. She glanced in the opposite direction down a short hall where the front door stood. It beckoned her.
Heart pounding, she quickly looked back to where the vampire had gone and wiped her sweaty palms against her pants leg. It was now or never. She spun and ran as fast as she could toward the door. It got closer and closer; she was only feet from it and knew she would make it. The excitement of freedom nearing her rushed through Alyssa.
Then the vampire suddenly appeared, and her feet slipped on the hard surface of the floor as she tried to avoid him.
He caught her effortlessly as she slid into him, then shoved her back. She fell with a squeak of surprise and a loud “Umphf!” Alyssa glared at Damian, who was now leaning negligently against the door, his arms crossed over his chest. “I told you not to try it.” He reached down and snatched her to her feet. She refused to wince at his grip.
“Shall I lock you in my chambers?”
Alyssa paused for a heartbeat, determined not to let him see her trepidation. “No. I’m sorry.”
He stared at her for a long moment, his countenance cold as he studied her. Finally, he released her, and she immediately rubbed her arm. “Since you are bound and determined to do everything on your own, you can find your own way around.” She watched, open-mouthed, as he stalked away from her.
“Bastard,” she muttered under her breath. If she was stuck here, she might as well scope out the place. Maybe she could find another escape route.
She made her way from the foyer up the main staircase and found a few bedrooms, all containing large four-poster beds with dark bedding, nightstands, and armoires. The furniture looked old, but in excellent condition. She briefly wondered if the vampire had ever had very many guests.
Back at the stairs, she followed them up to the third floor. Among her discoveries was a room she liked very much. It was filled with all types of weaponry, from swords to axes to spears, pikes, shields, and an array of knives from lean stealth to big “I’ll cut you to pieces if you so much as glance at me wrong” steel. The floor was cushioned, perfect for training. Walking around the room, she studied the display more closely.
Choosing her weapon, she picked up the double-pronged, daggerlike sai and gave them a quick twirl in her hands before gripping the handles and crouching into position. She lunged, going through the motions of a mock battle. She focused on the task at hand, making every move deliberate and deadly. This was a fight for her life, the chance to avenge her family. The training she’d received from others who’d lost loved ones to vampires ‑‑ those who’d dedicated their lives to eradicating the species and who’d heard of the devastation of her family, then found her ‑‑ kicked in.
Perspiration beaded on her brow and body. She brought her leg up, balancing perfectly as she struck out with one of the sai to her right, then the other to her left. Lifting her leg over and down, she meticulously counted off steps in her head. Whirling around, her sai abruptly clashed with an extended pole.
Instinctively, she disengaged Damian, then moved quickly, striking and jabbing, although he deflected every thrust and advance. He wielded the fencing pole deftly, and her arms started to hurt with the continued blows and vibrations from the stout weapon. She leaped as he tried to swipe her feet from under her; she swung out an arm to slice at his face, but he bent backward, missing the wicked slash of the sai.
They came together again, their weapons between them. Her arms were straining; it infuriated her to see he hadn’t even broken a sweat. In fact, he seemed completely at ease. She ground her teeth, shoving against him, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he pushed forward, and she went reeling. Before she could hit the mat, he caught her. She gasped; she hadn’t even seen him move. One second he’d been in one spot; the next, he was holding her.
Getting her bearings, she jabbed up, aiming to bury the sai under his rib cage and through his heart, but he knocked her weapons from her and dropped her. Panting heavily, she pushed herself to a sitting position while he stood over her, still holding the pole in his hand.
With a blurred move, the pole suddenly hovered a mere breath from her throat.
“You’re dead.”
He could hear her heart pumping a wild rhythm in his head.
“You distracted me,” Alyssa snapped.
Damian’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t afford distractions. You need to be ready for anything if you’re going to hunt vampires. The fact that you’ve made it this far and this long surprises me. You’re weak. You may have a strong spirit, but you’re no match for a vampire physically.”
“I’ve killed quite a few of you already.”
He shrugged dismissively. “Fledglings who are vulnerable during the day. Trust me, you’d never be able to sneak up on me, much less stand against D’Angel. We’re both older and more powerful than those you’ve hunted and killed before.” He reached down to help her to her feet, but she smacked his hand away. Damian growled low in his throat, then jerked her up by the collar of her shirt. She yelped and kicked him in the shin. He cursed and released her.
“What do you care anyway? Why tell me all this?”
He shrugged, staring at her, purposely watching as he made her nervous with his steady gaze. “I’m bored.”
Eyeing him incredulously, she retrieved the sai and then continued with the routine he’d interrupted. He knew she meant to ignore him, but for some reason he felt like provoking her.
He’d listened as she’d wandered through the house, hadn’t believed it when he’d found himself in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he stalked her with his senses. When he heard her reach his training room and begin her movements, he’d had to come up and see what she was doing. Imagining hadn’t been enough.
He’d stood at the door watching her for quite a while. The way her breasts rose steadily with every deep breath she took. The way her long, dark ponytail swished across her back. When she’d lunged her arms in an “L,” her legs sturdy and spread, he’d found he’d wanted to walk across the room, wrap the length of her hair around his fist, and kiss her. The thought had been unbidden and he’d cursed himself. For so long, he’d avoided feelings at all cost. Emotions were for the weak.
It had also been quite clear she knew how to use the sai. Alyssa had almost looked as if she’d been born to be a warrior as she moved though a complex routine that he knew had come from Asia centuries ago. From part of her memories he’d shared last night, Damian was aware that the man who’d taught her had been well educated, patient, and skilled. The man had also hated vampires as much as Alyssa did, had gladly taken her under his wing. Unfortunately, Damian had been unable to gather from her memories where the man himself had trained. Her teacher had apparently never told her.
Now, as she leapt away from him, bringing one of the sai forward through empty air, he struck with the pole again. A loud crack echoed through the room.
She flung the other sai at him, and he stepped aside as it buried itself in the wall behind his head. “Stop it!”
He twirled the stick in his hands. “If you’re going to practice sparring, isn’t it best to practice against someone?”
“You aren’t someone; more like something.”
He flashed her a predatory smile, putting as much malice and contempt in the gesture as he could. If he’d been human, he would have missed the slight tremble that coursed through her body. Oh, yes, he’d gotten to her.
“Get this through your dead head. I don’t want to have anything to do with you. You’re nothing to me.”
“Sticks and stones, little one.”
She blew out a frustrated sigh and marched past him. Damian watched her go, then picked up the discarded sai and the one that was buried in the wall, cleaned the weapons, and replaced them in their appropriate locations.
As he headed down the stairs, he heard the TV in the “family” room. Alyssa sat on the couch, but she didn’t appear to be watching the screen. Knowing he shouldn’t delve into her thoughts, still he entered, a quiet shadow in the corner of her mind. She was thinking about her family ‑‑ and the ways in which she could escape him, preferably ending his life in the process.
He grinned at her overdramatic imagination, the stake through his heart, perhaps a swipe through his neck. The wiping of her feet for good riddance as she left.
Then, on the tail of that thought came another: the picture of him over her on the bed, his tongue gliding up her arm and over the wounds on her wrist.
The rhythm of her heart accelerated, her respiration increased. He felt her arousal, and her struggle to fight it.
He pulled away from her mind and noticed her face was flushed with embarrassment and self-anger. He knew she’d be horrified if she knew he’d been aware of her thoughts.
Retreating through the house, he left her to her own devices for now and went to his study. He needed to figure out what he was going to do with her. The fact that he felt such protectiveness toward her was unlike him.
The only one he’d safeguarded for centuries had been D’Angel. It was all he knew. And although he loathed D’Angel and what she was, for years there had been a glimmer of hope that she might change. He knew now she never would.
He sat in his leather chair and stared out the window at the expanse of beach and the waves that rolled up over the sand. How would he protect Alyssa? Would she allow him to, or would she always fight him?
He sighed and leaned forward in the seat, his elbows on his knees. There were many other things he’d like to do with her, but he knew she’d refuse him. She hated his kind too much to recognize they weren’t all evil. But how could he blame her? D’Angel had killed her entire family, and his own parents had gone insane because of a vampire. Even he thought himself unworthy of the light ‑‑ of any love or affection.
He looked down at his hands, clenching them into fists.
He was unworthy of the woman sitting in his very home.
He stayed there for a long time, torturing himself with secret desires till he could see the sky begin to pinken in the distance. The sound of the TV had been in the background of his head the entire time. Finally, he returned to where she still sat, motionless. Her stomach growled. Damian winced as he watched her arms instinctively cover her stomach, as if that could stop the loud rumbling. He hadn’t thought of food. Did he have any in the house? Why would he? He was unable to partake anything but blood, but of course she was human and too skinny as it was.
He knew she’d never lower herself to ask him for something to eat. Guilt warred in him; she must be terribly hungry after her workout and for not having eaten for at least twenty-four hours, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Damn, he felt like a cruel bastard, but the sun was rising.
“Come, Alyssa. It’s time for bed.”
She shook her head wearily, like an old woman. “I don’t want to lie down with you.”
The TV turned off with a glance. He picked her up, easily evading her punches by grasping both her wrists in one hand. “Stop it.”
Alyssa’s eyes were like icy daggers of hatred, but her pounding heart and excited breaths belied that gaze. He nuzzled her neck as he made his way to his chambers. She was stiff, arching away from him, but his tight hold didn’t let her get too much space between them. As he brought both of them down on the bed, he picked up the shackles. “Do we need to go through this again?”
She shook her head once more, so he dropped the chains over the headboard, pinned her with a stare, then entranced her and sent her to sleep.
* * * * *
Alyssa woke to an empty bedroom. She sat up and stretched, then checked the bathroom. She found no sign of Damian and decided to take a quick shower. If she was lucky, he was gone and she could get away. If she was luckier, she’d be leaving with a stake through his heart.
The water felt good, but she scrunched up her nose as she put on the same clothes from the night before and the night before that. Commando it was, then.
She went upstairs and found Damian in one of the rooms she hadn’t explored. He held a ledger in his hands as if he were going over figures and glanced up at her. When he did, her stomach growled lou
dly. Embarrassed, she laid her hand over her stomach and tried to remember the last time she ate.
Damian stared for a moment, blinking a few times as if to clear his thoughts. He wore all black again and seemed to blend into the shadows. She hadn’t looked too closely at his closet and wondered suddenly if he wore any other color.
He rose without speaking and waved for her to follow. Damn her own hide for obeying him like a dog. He walked through the foyer, then the dining room, and into a large, elaborate kitchen with a central island. The stone tiles were gray, with gray countertops and cabinets. No surprise there at the color scheme. There was also a refrigerator, microwave, electric stove, and oven. She thought it ridiculous that whoever had decorated his place had supplied these useless items. It wasn’t like he was human and would cook.
He walked over to one of the cabinets, opened it, and frowned. She scouted; the shelves, cupboards, and fridge were completely bare. He turned and shrugged. “I forgot you’ll need to eat. Come; you must be hungry, and I have no food for you here.”
He walked toward a side door, grabbed a set of keys from a small table. He held the door open for her; she could see it led into a garage from where she stood. She gave him a suspicious look. “Why are you doing this?”
Damian was silent. She didn’t think he was going to answer her. Finally, he spoke. “Because I can feel your hunger, and we need to get you some other clothes. Those are beginning to reek.”
Her face flamed, though she noticed he didn’t really respond to her underlying question. She also didn’t know why his insult hit her so hard; after all, it wasn’t her fault she was a virtual prisoner in his home. Her eyes narrowed, and she clenched her teeth. “If it bothers you so much, vampire, why not let me go?”
He ignored her words. “Come,” he repeated, obviously expecting immediate obedience. She planted her feet firmly, hands on hips.
“I have my own clothes. I don’t want anything from you.”