by Lucinda Dark
“Let me, Barbie,” he said against my face, his lips touching my jaw and sliding back up to my ear. Shivers chased down my spine. My hips shifted and he moved closer, a hand sliding behind my back as he canted my body forward until I slid down the length of his thigh. My clit ground against the inside of my jeans, sending volts of pleasure racing through me. It hurt so fucking good. I didn’t want to stop. “Let me feed you,” Torin said.
Feed.
Desire.
Hunger.
Fuck.
So close. I was so close to the fucking pinnacle, I was trembling beneath the weight of it. I knew all I needed was another touch. Something firmer. Something rougher. And I’d be there. He must have known it too.
Torin’s fingers moved down into the waistband of my jeans and straight past the elastic band of my panties until they touched my core. Thick, strong fingers slid through my folds, touching my wetness, and pressed against the button of my clit and fireworks erupted. I cried out as white blinded me. A mouth landed on mine—either to muffle the sound or drink it in, I wasn’t sure.
Torin barreled through until his tongue swirled against mine. His hand at my back urged me forward, closer to him. His fingers in my underwear played against me, not stopping long enough to let me catch my breath as I went skydiving into the next orgasm. It stole my very breath from my chest. I couldn’t fucking see. I couldn’t fucking breathe. All I could do was let myself be consumed by him.
It took several minutes for me to come down from the high and when I did, I regretted it almost immediately. Not because it had been him. Not because I hadn’t enjoyed it. But because as soon as I came down and my eyes opened, a spike of agony sliced through my abdomen. It took every ounce of willpower I fucking had to keep from screaming out. As it was, I felt wet fluid against my fingernails as I dug them into Torin’s shoulders. I’d drawn blood, I realized.
He hadn’t fed me at all. He’d just made it worse. I shoved him away without preamble and used the last of my reserves to stumble away from him lest I jump his fucking bones which was exactly what my body was demanding I do.
Even knowing that he could catch me had he wanted to, I sprinted for the exit. I didn’t even stop when I got to my car. I shoved my key into the door and then the ignition before fumbling for my backpack. I yanked the zipper open so hard that it snapped in my grip, breaking off. I didn’t give a shit. I reached inside, found one of Esperanza’s vials and popped the cap. I held my breath, pinched my nose and dumped the contents down my throat. It tasted like rotting rat carcasses, but I swallowed it.
As soon as the pain receded, I sank down into the driver’s seat and covered my face with my hands. This couldn’t keep going. I couldn’t keep this up. One way or another, I was going to break. Maverick or Torin. Whoever was there when I did would have no choice, no say in the matter.
They’ve already had their say, Satrina reminded me. And they want you as much as you want them.
I screamed and punched my steering wheel. “Shut the fuck up!” I snapped. “This is your fucking fault.”
There was a moment of silence and then she replied. As she spoke, her voice remained even. Impassive. Chilled. You agreed to the contract, Barbie. You can place the blame wherever you want, but I didn’t force you to sign. You wanted my power and I warned you of the circumstances. You didn’t heed that warning. Desire comes with consequences. Especially the desire for power.
I gasped as a wave of it hit me. As muted by the potion as it was, I still felt it. A typhoon in my body, pounding against the barriers I’d thrown up. Each time they hit, a little bit more was chipped away. Soon enough, I’d have no resistance at all and any choice I could make would be made for me.
I closed my eyes as scalding hot tears leaked out. They ran down my cheeks, and I lifted a shaking hand to cover my mouth. I knew what she meant. I knew what my body was saying. And as much as I hated it, the time for me to realize it was coming.
Resistance was utterly futile.
Chapter 20
Torin
I tore into the blood bag with a vengeance. My thirst was at an all time high. I sucked down first one and then a second bag in record time. Still, the hunger churned in my gut. Slapping the empty bags on the countertop, I took a step back and scrubbed a hand down my face.
What I’d done to Barbie today … I hadn’t been able to stop. My vampire had taken over so quickly that I’d had no time to stop it. But I could still remember the smell of her in my nose. The taste of her flesh, salty and delicious, lingered on my tongue. I could practically feel the pounding of her heartbeat echoed in the throbbing of my dick. She’d come so beautifully against my fingers and even after she’d run off, I’d stayed behind and I hadn’t been able to resist the urge to lick her essence from my hand.
My jeans tightened over the strain of my erection as I recalled it. With a growl, I yanked the refrigerator door open and snatched another blood bag, tearing into that as if it would lessen the desire hammering at my insides. Was it because Barbie truly was my vampire’s mate? I couldn’t deny that she not only roused him but gave him power over me that I’d never seen or felt before. Or was what happened in England the cause? I didn’t know what else had been done to me other than the experimentation of how long I could go without blood and remain sane.
A noise from the front of the house drew my attention. After a few minutes, I had drained my last blood bag and dropped the plastic into the trash container before following the sound to the foyer. Katalin stood with her arms crossed as servants loaded up a town car. Her long legs were encased in tight black slacks and despite the fact that night had already fallen, she wore a pair of large sunglasses that covered most of her upper face.
“Katalin?” She turned my way as I approached.
“I’m leaving,” she announced. “I’ve been requested in Europe.”
I fell silent, but my whole body tensed. “England?” I finally managed to grit out.
She shook her head. “Not this time, no. I’m going straight to Arrius.” She turned back as a servant paused by her side and handed her a ring of keys. It didn’t escape my notice that she didn’t tell me where the bastard was or where in Europe she would be going. I didn’t ask. I knew I wouldn’t receive an answer and I was not in the mood to either be lied to or ignored. “I don’t know when I’ll be back,” Katalin said. I nodded, but she remained where she was. Turning her head marginally, I felt the weight of her gaze through the thin plastic of the sunglasses. “You still haven’t heeded my warning.”
“What warning?”
“The girl, the boy, and the witch remain unharmed. I warned you, Torin. See that it is done. This is your last notice.”
“Your warning is duly noted,” I replied cautiously. “But I actually have another question I’d like to ask.”
One delicate brown eyebrow arched over the top of her sunglasses. “Oh?”
I swallowed and stepped closer. “What can you tell me about vampire mates?”
Katalin froze and for a split second, I thought she wouldn’t answer. Then, carefully—oh so carefully—she reached up and withdrew her sunglasses from her face. When her lashes lifted, cool human hazel eyes stared back. “Vampire mates are rare,” she said quietly. “A vampire in possession of a mate is both at his or her strongest and … their weakest.”
“What if a vampire has a mate but is unable to claim them?” I pressed.
Ever so subtly, her brow arched even farther and then lowered just as quickly as she folded her glasses and put them in the purse dangling from her arm. “A vampire in the vicinity of his or her mate but unable to reach or claim them will experience a rush of side effects. For example, I can’t be certain since you’re dhampire and not full vampire, but if you were to be in this situation, you would notice certain changes in personality. You see your vampire as other from yourself. You would begin to exhibit more vampiric traits. Higher bloodthirst, etcetera. A true vampire, uninhibited by human qualities at all, would not be ab
le to resist claiming their mate.” She met my eyes with a cold calculating stare. “Should you ever meet or come into contact with a possible mate, Torin, I suggest you do what I’ve already suggested.”
Katalin wasn’t an idiot. I knew as much when I asked the question. “How would I know if I came into contact with my vampire’s mate?”
In a silent turn of her head, Katalin closed her eyes and sighed before reopening them. “Your vampire would know,” she said, keeping her eyes lowered before lifting them. For the first time in my life, I saw true pity reflected in those depths. I couldn’t once recall, as a child, any sort of sympathy. Understanding, yes. Anger, certainly. Perhaps even caring. But never once had I seen pity as I did now. “It truly is the worst kind of cruelty to kill one’s mate.” The words were mere echoes of a whisper. A story wrapped in a single sentence of an action that may have long since passed, but whose agony still remained. “If you ever find her, Torin,” she said. “Kill her as gently as you can. Spare her what Arrius would do. Because if he were to get his claws into a dhampire’s mate, you would regret not doing it.”
I had nothing to respond with. No words would come to my lips. No action to my limbs. And Katalin didn’t wait for a response. She simply turned and strode for the front door, letting it swing closed behind her. The sound of her goodbye reverberated throughout the empty house.
I knew Katalin cared for me as much as she could care for another person. But still, with what I’d asked and with what she already knew, I wasn’t so naive to think I could keep all that I had. Maverick or Barbie. I needed to tell Barbie what I knew, and I needed to find a way to kill my father. I had little doubt that sooner or later, he would know everything. Katalin was as strong as she could be and I knew that even if she wanted to keep my secrets, she wouldn’t be able to. Arrius was old enough, powerful enough, that the truth would be forced from her now that she was within his reach.
And she would cave and bow down to him as pawns were meant to do to their king.
Chapter 21
Barbie
I was a liar. So much so that it was damn near compulsive at this point. When I came home after what happened with Torin, I was lucky enough that no one had been home, but by the next morning, I wasn't over it. I told Beth and Jon I was sick. I said I wasn’t sure what was wrong, that my head hurt, my body ached. Perhaps it wasn’t so much lying as it was directing their perspective of the truth. My head did hurt and my body did ache. But not because of any illness. I hid out like the fucking coward I knew I was.
The behavior lasted. I didn’t go to school for the rest of the week. I didn’t answer my phone even to talk to Olivia when she texted to tell me about Ben approaching her. Maverick knocked on the door and I refused to crawl out of bed to answer it.
On Friday night, I tossed and turned, sweating profusely as yet another dream landed me smack dab in the middle of my soul, right in front of the bitch that had started it all.
Tall octangular columns spanned the sides of a dining room rich in golds and reds. And in the middle of the luxurious space sat a table covered in white lace with a pristine floral tea set. A crystal chandelier dangled overhead as the woman with the dark corkscrew curls and the mismatched eyes arched a brow at me and delicately sipped from her cup.
"Did you know that in the mid-1800s women weren't allowed to dine in a restaurant without an escort?" Satrina asked as she settled her teacup back in its saucer.
I approached slowly and took a seat across from her. "I didn't expect a history lesson when I came here," I said.
She shrugged and reached for a tray of small scones. The scent of lemons rose as she bit into it and chewed thoughtfully. "There is much to be learned from history," she said. "For example, historically, those who have been possessed by demons don't generally make it out alive."
I blinked. "If you want to go there, then historically no human makes it out alive because ... well ... humans die. It's kind of our thing."
"Ahh, but demon-possessed humans tend to die much earlier than anticipated," she said, setting the rest of her scone back on the tray. Satrina lifted her head and looked me right in the eye. "You don't realize how lucky you are," she said.
"Lucky?" I echoed. "What the fuck do you mean 'lucky?’"
"What human kills several vampires and lives to tell the tale?" she countered.
"I lost my family," I reminded her, my fingers curling into the lace tablecloth. "My parents. My brother. My home. My fucking life was ruined. All I did was survive. None of that was lucky."
"Perhaps it may not seem that way to you," she replied. "But no human can outmatch a vampire—"
"I did," I interrupted her. "Or else I wouldn't be here."
"They underestimated you because of what you were. That has nothing to do with your skill, darling. Vampires think of humans as cattle. To their minds, humans cannot beat them. It's just not possible. It would be like a human thinking a mouse could slit their throats. It's not possible."
"Well, I have power now," I said. "Your power, in case you've forgotten. I'm not completely human anymore."
Satrina leaned back, her breasts pushed upward with the tight cinching of the corseted dress she wore today. "And yet you refuse to use it. Merely containing the power of a demon within your body sets you on edge. You refuse to do what you must to release it." She arched her brows. "Or have you changed your mind?"
I didn't immediately answer her. What could I say? That yes, I was starting to doubt my own stubbornness? Both Torin and Maverick seemed willing enough, but wouldn't it change our relationship if I let them help me in this way? How could I trust them? What if something happened? Would doing this—having sex with one or both of them—change me?
Before, it'd been a stupid mistake. A drunken lonely night with a boy who'd been just as uninvolved. We were two orphans pushed together by circumstance. He'd left afterwards and I hadn't cried or felt a thing. There were no feelings involved, but with Torin and Maverick, I knew it'd be different. That boy hadn't known anything about me and I hadn't known shit about him. But Torin and Maverick ... they knew me. They knew about my family. They knew about my past, my guilt, my shame. They knew about Satrina and they knew what I would do to achieve my vengeance.
Feelings would be involved.
"Running away is such an unattractive quality in a person," Satrina said.
I snorted. "You're a demon. Don't they cut and run if it'll keep them alive?"
She shrugged. "I suppose," she answered. "But that doesn't mean we don't admire the quality of courage in humans." She grinned, her face lighting up. "You'll never know the aphrodisiac of knowing your partner will soon die on a battlefield. Oh, the men I fucked the night before their own demises." She sighed as if lost in some fond memory. I frowned. "Those about to die are always willing to do anything and everything in the pursuit of pleasure. Perhaps it's the adrenaline or perhaps it's the knowledge that they may never get another opportunity to feel that way ever again."
"That's disturbing," I deadpanned. "And morbid."
She laughed, the trickle of sound reverberating up into the rafters of the arching ceilings. The crystal ornaments dangling from the chandelier trembled with the noise. "That's life," she said when she'd finally calmed down. "And death."
"I—"
Satrina sat up straighter and turned her head to the side as a door opened in the distance. I turned but saw nothing but fog accumulating on either side of the room. "What is it?" I asked. A tingle of alarm raced up my spine.
"Someone's here," she said, quietly getting up from the table. Her gaze remained on the fog as she stepped around her chair and stood tall. I shoved back and stood up as well.
"Are they—?" She held out a hand, stopping me from talking further as she scanned the area. She must have seen who it was because in the next instant, she lowered her arm and all of the tension in her body leeched away.
She let out a small chuckle and shook her head. "I never expected to be interrupted in here," she
said lightly, unconcerned as she turned my way. "But somehow I find myself unsurprised."
"What—"
"I'm going to head out," she interrupted again, earning an irritated growl from me. With a snap of her fingers, the Victorian dining room disappeared and was replaced with a bedroom complete with a twisted wrought iron bed frame and gauzy curtains.
“Wait, what?” I reached for her, but she twirled away with a giggle and as my fingers closed over her arm, she vanished into thin air, leaving me reaching for nothing at all.
“Was that the demon?” I jumped at the gravelly voice at my back and whirled around.
“Torin.” Shit. I took a step away from him as he approached from out of the fog, the backs of my knees bumping into the bed. Well, this explained why that was there. I closed my eyes and cursed Satrina. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m checking on you,” he replied, moving closer.
I put my hand up and he stopped. “You could’ve called,” I replied.
He arched a thick, strong brow. “I have. You’re not answering.”
“Probably because I’m sleeping!” I hissed. “You can wait until I wake up.”
“Don’t lie to me, Barbie,” he said. “I’ve been calling. You won’t answer whether you’re awake or not.”
“I still haven’t forgiven you,” I said, looking away as I lowered my hand.
“For giving you more of my blood or for what happened at school?” I’d thought that even with my hand down he would keep his distance, but it appeared that I thought wrong. With no physical sign deterring him, Torin stepped even closer until his chest was against mine. I sucked in a breath, expecting a bolt of pain but there was nothing. No agonizing claws ripping through my abdomen. No spikes being shoved through my ribcage.