The doorknob turned. I peered at it like I had X-ray vision. But since I don’t, all I saw was the door swing open. More light gleamed in so I looked away, then I heard heavy footsteps slowly get closer and closer. I shuddered and pressed back into the wall, but there was no escape, nowhere for me to hide. I glanced back and there he stood, staring down at me. He smiled, a broad glistening expanse of teeth and fangs. His dark eyes drilling into me like bottomless pools trying to flood over me.
“Why are you sitting down there on the floor, Abigail? These chairs are in here for your comfort. Please get up and sit in one.” His words were deep and slow and very intimidating. He took a few steps toward me, his boots squeaking and crunching, and then reached out his hand. “Let me help you up.”
Even though I was terrified, the words “no thank you” escaped my mouth as I lowered my face toward the floor, not wanting to make eye contact any longer.
In a flash I was raised and pinned against the wall, his hand around my neck. My feet dangled beneath me, perhaps a foot or so from the floor. He held me eye level; his eyes were like black winter ice. His smile was gone. His voice was so loud I wanted to cover my ears but was afraid if I took my hands off his hand, he’d choke me to death: “I did not ask you. I told you. I told you to sit on those chairs and I told you to let me help you up. You will obey me! Do you understand?”
His grip around my neck was so tight, it left me unable to speak. I nodded my head, or at least tried to. To be sure he understood me, I tried moving my eyes up and down. They were trying to say, “Yes we understand, yes we will listen.”
The features on his face softened. He released me. I caught myself against the wall before falling and rubbed and massaged my sore neck. Without hesitation, I walked over toward the chairs. Each step was forced, like heavy weights were tied to my feet. After what felt like an eternity, I sat down and looked up at him. I wanted to slap that prideful expression right off his face. Fat chance right now, I knew. He came over and sat down beside me. Interrogation style.
He leaned over and pointed at my stomach, his finger just a few inches away. I didn’t move. “There is blood all over you. I will bring you some fresh clothes in a moment. I never meant for you to bleed so badly.”
My eyes welled up with tears. Just perfect. Now I was going to cry like a baby and not have my powers.
“What…have…you…done…to…me…Bronx?” I fought back tears between each word.
A smirk puckered his lips. He slowly pulled his pointing finger away. “Now Abigail, if I told you that, I would have to kill you. And it is very important that you stay alive for me. My plan cannot work without you.”
“What plan?” I demanded. Vague memories of the time Stone told me Bronx would use me for my powers began swirling in my mind. He’ll overpower you and use you with his mind control. He must need you for something, Abby, that’s why he turned you into one of us. No vampire has ever developed powers as great as yours.
“You will be with me forever. What part of that did you not understand?” His eyes slanted, piercing me with a spiteful glare.
“Where’s Lily?” I glared at him—hard. A few tears spilled. I knew I couldn’t hold them back forever. I cradled my arms around my chest and held on tight, hoping I could find some comfort. So far, it wasn’t helping at all.
“Do not worry about your donor friend. She is unharmed and will remain that way as long as you cooperate with me.” He leaned over and slid his thumb across my cheek, wiping off some of the wet trails. But more tears fell and replaced what he wiped. I couldn’t control it. “There is no need for you to cry. I will not hurt you again. I needed to be certain that you were powerless. Knocking you unconscious was the only way.” He cupped my face. I was too weak to pull away.
“How? How did you strip away my powers, my advanced senses? Am I human again?” I stared at his chin.
He grinned. A chuckle popped off his tongue. “Do not be ridiculous. You are still a vampire. You will be a vampire forever, unless, of course, you are killed. You can never be human again.” He slipped his hands away and leaned back in the chair. “I am not sure what you know, but I am certain you know how powerful you are. So tell me, what does your pyrokinesis feel like when you use it?”
Feeling my eyes widen, I quickly glanced down at the floor. “What are you talking about?”
“You hold no secrets, Abigail. Do not waste time lying to me.” His hand reached for my chin, pushing up, forcing me to look at him. “Answer my question.”
“How?” I said, my voice steady. “How do you know what power I have? How did you know?” I shook my head violently side to side, shaking free of his grasp. “You targeted me! You turned me into a vampire because you knew I would become this! How the hell did you know?” I swallowed hard.
“Now that is a question that I would love to answer for you.” He burst into a sinister laughter, his watchful eyes still on me. “The truth will hurt you, Abigail, which I do feel you deserve. You are mine and I will never share you with anyone else.”
I couldn’t speak. I just stared at him, wondering what he was talking about. Of course he felt I deserved pain and suffering. I did leave him. The only reason I came back to Florida was for Lily. I was supposed to defeat Bronx and had been so confident that I would. I’d never planned on losing all my powers and getting ambushed in the woods.
There was a knock on the door, the sound rippling through the silence. Bronx grinned, his cheek muscles rising. “You may enter.”
I stared down at the floor—all I could do was listen to the footsteps. But that didn’t identify my new visitor. I slowly raised my head and froze, one hand touching my chest. Oh my God, what the hell was he doing in here? I shook my head, unable to grasp what I saw, who I saw. “Oh…my…God!” Each word stretched out. I couldn’t believe it. Why would he be standing there? It didn’t look like he was here to help me escape. And he didn’t look scared of Bronx. My waterworks reignited. I couldn’t hold back the tears, even though I really wished I could. “How could you do this to me? I trusted you.”
Tyler stood a few feet away from Bronx. “I’m sorry, Abby.” He frowned, looked down at his feet.
I stared at him, anger flaring up in a rush. My head was about to explode. “Get out! Both of you get out! Now! Get out!” I cradled my knees against my chest, rocked back and forth, and cried. Who cared if I was being a wuss anymore. I sure didn’t. The amount of tears falling from my eyes could easily make a river and carry me away. Wishful thinking, I knew.
I heard receding footsteps and the door closing behind them. I held tighter around my legs, my body trembling and shaking. What was Tyler doing with Bronx? They seemed too familiar with each other to have recently met. But how far back did they go? Was Tyler working with Bronx when he’d kissed me? When he’d told me he loved me? But wouldn’t my vampire senses have picked that up? Wouldn’t I have noticed something was off? Off! I gasped, sitting up straighter in the chair. Something had been strange. Stone had noticed it too, but I’d shaken it off. I’d blamed Tyler’s ability; I’d even blamed my own guilt, giving Tyler the benefit of the doubt. But those weird vibes had been right in front of my eyes. How could I have been so blind? Damn it! I’d trusted him! I’d let my guard down with him, and I’d told him everything—well, almost everything. What I didn’t tell him, I bet he just saw in one of his futuristic visions. And then he conveyed everything to Bronx.
Tyler, Tyler, Tyler! Tyler was nothing more than a liar. He used me and then betrayed me to the one person on this earth that I needed salvation from. He never loved me. His touch, his kisses were empty. My chest tightened—perhaps the closest thing I could feel to a broken heart, but it still hurt like hell.
There were moments, while sitting alone in the dimly lit hellhole, when I’d try to convince myself that Tyler was just one of Bronx’s puppets and that he was under the influence of Bronx’s mind control. But in my heart I knew that wasn’t the truth. For Bronx’s mind control to work, he would need to be in close p
roximity to the one he was using it on. And I knew for a fact that he was nowhere near Tyler and I when we fled to Savannah. I would’ve sensed him if he had been.
All these questions left me so confused. I was lucky I knew up from down. The facts that I’d uncovered, willingly or not, cut into me like a knife. And then there was Lily. She’d been thrown in the middle of all this, like a fishing lure going for the big prize. And I took the damned bait. Tyler knew this would happen all along. Was this how it played out in his vision? What a fool I was for believing his feelings were sincere; his jealousy of Stone had seemed real. The vengeance he’d promised to help me achieve had been so believable. But it was all crap. His words were lies. His actions were empty. He’d been in alliance with Bronx all along. But why would Bronx allow Tyler to take me away in the first place? It just didn’t make sense that he’d willingly let another man take me away from him. Unless, somehow, Tyler had used his visions to convince Bronx that this would help his master plan. And that meant Tyler was even more involved in all of this.
I let go of my legs and grabbed my head, pressing into the temples, trying to release some of the pressure. I felt angry, hurt, and torn. And to top them off, I was growing weaker.
After fleeing from Bronx, I’d developed my powers and learned how to use them. If I were still with Bronx when that happened, I could’ve easily escaped. And perhaps killed him in the process. Did Tyler’s visions show that to Bronx? Maybe Tyler had only gained my trust to give Bronx time to figure out how to take away my powers. And with that knowledge, I was ambushed in the woods—because Tyler had already seen me traveling there in his freaking visions. That’s the only way Bronx would’ve known where to find me. Tyler really did have a huge role in all of this.
I wrapped my arms back around my legs, rocking back and forth, my heart maxed out with despair and sadness. The truth about Tyler blared out brighter than the sun, or at least as bright as I remember it. All the tender moments we’d shared weren’t real. The passionate kisses really meant nothing. Flashbacks of the time spent together in his Savannah house—if it was even his house at all—tore through me like a sharp sword slicing me into pieces. Bronx would’ve never allowed Tyler to kiss me or tell me he loved me unless it was only to gain my trust, which he’d done successfully. But Tyler had earned my trust without all those things. I guess he’d just used the romance to keep me distracted from sensing the truth.
My insides were a pit of emptiness, hollow and numb. I was weak and needed blood, but didn’t care if I ever tasted it again. I tried to get up but felt dizzy and fell back down. My fingers rubbed my eyes, which burned and stung, but at least I wasn’t crying anymore. My neck and shoulders felt heavy; perhaps the muscles were fatigued. It really sucked not being able to heal myself. And that wouldn’t even begin to happen unless I got blood, a lot of blood. So to relieve some of that pressure, I started to massage my neck, pressing my fingers deep into the skin. Something hard and cold whisked across my fingertips. The necklace Tyler gave me! Remembering the loving moment when he gave this to me made my stomach roll. Nausea crept up my chest. Frantically, my fingers traced the necklace, searching for the clasp so I could remove this horrible gift and throw it at him or Bronx the next time I saw either of them.
Tugging and shifting the silver chain seemed endless—the clasp never made its way around. Maybe my fingers skipped over it, so easy to do since the clasp was about the same size as the rest of the chain pieces. And I was getting weaker by the second; that surely wasn’t helping me. Then I felt something sharp, a tiny prick on my finger. The clasp. I strained to pull the chain forward so I could get a good enough grip on the lever, but it wouldn’t budge. What the hell? I tried again, nothing.
The doorknob rattled, then the door slowly swung open, an eerie creaking noise that you’d hear in a horror movie. Roll the scary music now. I froze in a panic, and then quickly dropped my hands to my knees. The last thing I wanted was to be caught fondling with this stupid necklace, not until I got it off and could use it as a flying projectile. I watched my fingers nervously trace and poke at the holes in my jeans.
“Abigail, come with me.” Bronx’s voice was like a drill sergeant.
I slowly raised my head up, avoiding his eyes. “I’m not sure I can get up. I’ve already tried.” Then, I tried again anyway to prove I was telling the truth. Placing my boots on the floor and my hands on the seat of the chair, I pushed with all my strength but barely moved at all. Completely exhausted, I leaned back.
Bronx walked over to me and bent down, then cradled his arms around me like I was a baby, one arm around my back, the other under my knees. In a flash, he stood up; my head fell backwards as he did. I tried to lift it up but was too fatigued. “I am going to get you cleaned up. Please do not get any ideas of escape while we are away from this room,” he warned.
I’m not sure where he took me, but I assumed it was a bathroom. He sat me on a short bench with my back against the wall. My left side leaned against something cold and hard. It reminded me of a bathtub. After numerous failed attempts to focus my eyes, I decided that closing them would be best. The back of my eyelids looked like curtains in a dark movie theater—only I knew the motion picture wouldn’t be playing soon, the weight of the curtains too heavy to lift. The curtains started swaying and flowing, like running blood.
I felt something damp, and a little rough, wiping my face. “You are worse off than I thought,” Bronx said, his voice soft. “Can you hear me?”
My lips slightly parted to answer him, but I couldn’t speak. I forced a little noise out of my throat that sounded like a hoarse growl. Every minute that passed, I was progressively getting weaker. I felt sick, so sick, unlike any cold or virus I’d ever experienced when human. Thoughts of a final death floated to the surface of my mind. Every moment that passed, I was one step closer.
“Tyler, come in here! Now!”
Like a herd of cows, loud footsteps rushed in. “What is it, Boss?” Tyler’s breathing was deep and short. I envisioned the vein on his neck pumping with each gasp. Oh, how easily I would bite him now, after everything he’d done to me. I no longer cared to preserve his innocence, which he’d already showed was nonexistent due to his alliance with Bronx.
“What is wrong with her? She is not supposed to be so sick!” Bronx continued to wipe my face, neck, and arms with the rough, damp cloth.
“She’s been trying…powers…every time she tries…the weaker she will get…” Tyler replied. My consciousness was fading in and out.
“But I need…healthier…this!”
“Then you’ll…feed her. Should I…get…girl?”
An eerie moment of silence filled the room. My mind stopped fading in and out, but I still felt horrible. Bronx finished wiping me and began to pick at my hair with what felt like a comb. “This hair color is horrid! Why did you allow her to do this?”
“It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, sir.”
“Then you should not have a problem changing it back.” Bronx was making progress with the comb as strands of hair began to flow through its teeth. They tickled the side of my face.
“Yes, sir.”
“Go get the girl.”
“If you want her hair color changed, shouldn’t I do that before she feeds?” Tyler’s voice was anxious, stressed.
“No, go get the girl now.”
“But sir,” Tyler begged, “I can’t be in a room with her after she feeds! She’ll kill me after everything she just found out!”
“Yes she will.” Bronx burst into that sinister laugh again. Then my consciousness started wavering. “I never said…you would not…punished for…advances…if she chooses…kill you…then…is your sentence.”
The last thing I remember thinking was if Tyler would return with “the girl” before it was too late. Or maybe it already was.
21
Face-to-Face
HER MELODIC VOICE WAS LIKE that of an angel, and her tender touch on my cheek felt like silk. “
Abby, are you okay? Abby, it’s me. Wake up. Wake up and bite me.”
I couldn’t move, my eyes were sealed shut, and I didn’t want to bite her anyway. Why live? Why should I want to live? To be Bronx’s slave all over again. He would use my power and I’d never be able to defend myself.
What had Tyler done to me? How had I become so helpless, so defenseless? After all that fighting and training, I couldn’t even use those moves. Would drinking from Lily change that? Mostly likely not. Bronx had demolished me in the woods; whatever was happening to me had already taken me down. No powers, no senses, and no longer a will to fight.
“Abby, please,” Lily begged, “please Abby, bite me. I need you, don’t leave me here.” She brushed her neck against my lips, back and forth, trying to taunt me.
Her skin was so warm, inviting, alive. The vein thumped rapidly; vibrations danced through her neck. My tongue swelled, saliva moistening it. I parted my lips to release some of the pressure. Her neck was right there. Closer than I’d realized. My tongue stroked across it. I couldn’t stop now. I opened my mouth wider. In one swift movement my fangs pressed out, then down into her skin. The warm delicious liquid flowed like a river and my stomach was the mouth to the ocean. I could feel Lily’s body trembling. I raised my arms. They moved with ease—I was getting my strength back! I held onto her head, her soft brown hair mashed in my hands, and I drank feverishly. I was feeling better, stronger. I twisted her head slightly to the side, dug my mouth deeper into her neck. She gasped, then released a very happy sounding sigh.
I drank from her a short while longer and then sealed the wound and gently laid her on the floor. I looked around, getting my bearings. Immediately I recognized where I was: the master bathroom at Bronx’s house. Memories of trying on clothes, laughing, and talking with Lily flashed in my mind like a home video. I also noticed that some of my advanced senses were back. I took in the fragrance of Lily’s blood mixed with the lavender-scented lotion she wore, the musty smell of my dirt- and blood-stained clothes, and Bronx. He was in the master bedroom, most likely waiting to see me when I came out. At least he let me enjoy a meal before making me sick all over again.
Crimson Groves Page 21