by L. E. Wilson
“Drink,” the vampire ordered, then pressed the open wound to her mouth.
Laney tried to turn her head away, but it stopped her by pressing its cheek against the side of her face and tightening its hold around her arms and body.
“Drink,” it commanded again, and rubbed its wrist against her lips until it was able to work its way between them.
Laney tasted the copper-laced tang of her own blood from her teeth cutting the inside of her lips as she tried to resist. But then something else mixed with it, something that reminded her of a well-aged, heady wine. Or at least what she imagined one would taste like. Thick and warm, it coated her tongue and dripped down the back of her throat. Without realizing she did so, she moaned aloud at the earthy flavor, swallowing before eagerly sinking her teeth into the wounds and sucking. The creature groaned, rolling its hips into her behind as its blood crept through her body with an erotic heat, slowly making its way down her arms and legs to merge within the very core of her, igniting every sensual nerve ending on its way. Laney moaned and writhed in the vampire’s arms, sucking harder, wanting still more.
The vampire growled low in her ear as her behind wriggled deeper into his lap, pressing against the sudden hardness there. With an audible click of its teeth, it pulled its wrist away from her mouth.
“Now sleep, little mouse,” it grated out.
Laney felt her eyes slide shut on command, and then there was nothing.
Dante studied the tiny human female in his lap as he breathed through the desire raging through him. He wasn’t adverse to much, but fucking unconscious women was not his thing. He preferred them to be awake, so he could see the flicker of fear in their eyes.
Even though there were no windows, it wasn’t completely dark in the little cave he’d created for them. He could see quite well by the dim light coming from the electric toothbrush that was charging on the sink. The back of her head rested against his chest once again, and her beautiful long hair tickled the inside of his arm. Even without the light, he would recall the vivid color—not an average brown, but with natural strands of red running through it—rich and warm and fragrant. It had tumbled around her shoulders as she’d knelt on the floor, begging for him to bury his hands and face in it.
She was strong, this one. Defiant. He’d been unable to control her until he’d managed to get her to drink from him again. But rather than anger him, the memory of her resistance stirred his blood. Her delicate jaw had been set with a stubborn mien in spite of the paralyzing terror that he’d seen in her tawny brown eyes—expressive, bedroom eyes full of heat and courage. For a few intense seconds, staring into them, he had been completely distracted from feeding. He’d like to see her looking up at him from her knees like that again, but for an entirely different reason.
All in good time.
First, he needed to figure out how the hell he was going to get them out of here. He needed to get the fuck away from this desert and go home. But even without looking in the mirror, Dante was well aware of how he must appear. He estimated it would take a few more days before he would be presentable enough to be seen by humans so he could get on a plane. Even if he covered his head with a hood, anyone that caught so much as a glimpse of his macabre face would run screaming in terror, and rightly so.
Everyone, that is, except the tiny human in his arms that had dared to stand up to him, and even tried to escape. It had been a foolish attempt. The sun wouldn’t save her from him. Nothing would save her now that he’d tasted her.
He briefly wondered if the fact that he’d killed her roommate would cause her distress, but then he shrugged it off. She would learn to accept it. Or not. It didn’t really matter to him.
The only reason she herself was still alive was for the sole purpose of feeding him. Her blood was potent. He would be healed very soon. His eyes roamed up her gorgeous legs, over her soft belly, and up to the bit of cleavage he could see down the front of her nightshirt. When he healed, he would add fucking him to the list of her reasons to stay alive. Once he’d had his fill of this one, however, he’d snap her neck just like the others. Or maybe not. Maybe he’d kill her slowly, let her screams of terror wash over him like a gentle rain before he silenced them forever.
At the thought of ending her life, Dante’s arms tightened around her protectively. The instinct to safeguard her momentarily confused him, but he brushed it off. He was tired, his mind spinning from one thought to the next.
As soon as the sun went down, he would wake the woman he held and find out if she had a car. If so, she could drive them to Seattle. It was the easiest solution. At his age, as long as he was covered from the sun, he would survive the trip. That way, they could leave right away, and he could bring his new canine friend with him.
Maybe he’d even take the cat. The dog seemed fond of it.
With a plan decided upon, Dante closed his eyes and fell into a healing sleep.
Chapter 6
Laney awoke again, this time to the sound of the shower running. She sat up, pushing her damp hair out of her face and pulling her nightshirt out from where it was stuck under her breasts. She was disoriented at first as she tried to see through the minimal light and the cloud of steam that filled the small room.
The vampire’s clothes were lying in a pile on the floor in front of her. She couldn’t see him through the curtain, but she could hear him splashing around under the spray. Her eyes immediately went to the closed bathroom door. Hesitating only for a brief second, she got to her feet as quietly as she could and crept over to it. Laney was right next to the shower curtain now, and if she wanted, she could pull it back just enough to peek at the vampire while he bathed himself.
For an insane moment, she was tempted.
Laney frowned at her wayward mind, wondering where the hell that thought had come from. Shaking it off, she wrapped her hand around the knob, and very slowly and quietly began to twist it to the right.
“I wouldn’t do that, little mouse,” came a gravelly voice from behind the curtain.
Throwing caution to the wind, Laney immediately yanked the door open and ran out into the other room, praying it was still daylight. A few steps from the bathroom, she pulled up short, arms pinwheeling like a cartoon character. The sun had set, and the only illumination came from the flickering streetlamp outside. However, it wasn’t the lack of sunshine that had interrupted her escape, but rather the chaos that greeted her sudden exit from the bathroom.
The dog from earlier jumped down off the couch where it had been sleeping, leaped over Sasha’s body, and charged her. Laney stood absolutely still as the dog barked at her, trying to decide what would be worse: a bite from a dog or a vampire. Fraidy Cat took that opportunity to stroll over to her with his tail straight up in the air and weave in and out of her legs in greeting.
The water shut off behind her, spurring Laney into action. Deciding a dog bite was definitely the lesser of two evils, she scooped up her cat and ran toward the front door, the dog nipping at her heels the entire way. She was still wearing nothing but her nightshirt, but she had no time to grab something to cover herself with. Not if she wanted any chance at all of escaping. She felt surprisingly energetic, considering she’d spent the last twenty-four hours providing meal after meal for the leech in her bathroom and napping on the floor.
Or rather, on the vampire.
As if the mere thought of him had conjured him out of thin air, he suddenly appeared before her, dripping wet and wearing nothing but her lavender towel wrapped around his narrow waist. Laney had no time to stop the forward motion of her body. She slammed right into him, squishing Fraidy Cat, who yowled in protest, between their bodies.
She immediately regained her balance and tried to go around him, hanging on for dear life to the fat cat squirming in her embrace. One muscular arm flashed out and caught her around the front of her shoulders. Wrapping it around her, the vampire spun her around and pulled her back against his body. The water from his chest and stomach quickly soaked
through the back of her thin shirt.
“Where are you going?” he asked in her ear.
To her surprise, he didn’t sound angry. As a matter of fact, he sounded genuinely curious and rather amused. The dog continued to bark at their feet, but the vampire made a shushing sound, and the mongrel immediately sat down and cocked its head to stare up at him with worshipful brown eyes.
Laney gave up the battle to hang on to Fraidy and opened her arms. He landed on his feet, gave her a glare over his shoulder, and went over to touch noses with the dog before sitting down next to it. His topaz eyes held less worship and more disdain as he looked up at her.
“What the hell is going on here?” she whispered. Laney wasn’t sure if she was asking herself or Fraidy.
“They seem to like each other,” the vampire whispered loudly in response.
Laney felt her face heat as fear was replaced with anger at the blasé tone in his voice. She felt like she’d been thrown into an episode of The Twilight Zone, made even more terrifying because it was real, and he was…amused? The vampire chuckled when she dug her nails into his arm and tugged, trying to get him to loosen his grip on her, but she might as well have been trying to remove the steel safety bar of a roller coaster after it was in motion.
Then the bar suddenly released her, much as she had done to the cat.
For the second—or third—time since she’d met him, Laney landed in a heap on the floor at the feet of the vampire. Jumping up, she spun around to face him, and almost stepped on the cat, eliciting an unhappy hiss from her pet. Fraidy stayed right where he was next to his new friend, however, not deigning to actually move. But he did bat at her leg to let her know he was there.
Laney, on the other hand, felt the need to move far, far away, and put as much distance between herself and the large male in front of her as she could.
For that’s what he was. Male. Completely and utterly male.
The monster that had attacked her the night before was nearly gone, and in its place was something that looked like it had just stepped off the cover of Iron Man Magazine—the sadistic, scary vampire issue. The lavender towel that was wrapped tightly around his waist split up one powerful thigh and barely concealed the bulge at the front of his hips. An eight pack of muscle rippled up his abdomen to a wide chest topped with shoulders that looked like they could easily handle the weight of the world and then some. But the thing that drew Laney’s eyes the most was the black ink of the tribal tattoos that covered the entire left half of his body, from his temple all the way down to where they disappeared beneath the towel, only to reappear again on his left leg. She hadn’t noticed them the night before. Or maybe she had and it just hadn’t comprehended. Maybe because he’d been wearing clothes, and she’d been more concerned about the fangs coming at her. They weren’t anything like the other tats she’d seen of that sort. These seemed to have a pattern to them, almost like they were symbols from some type of language or something.
“Are you going to run, little mouse? Or are you just going to stand there and squeak at me?”
Laney’s attention snapped back up to his face. Eyes like black holes met hers with an unflinching stillness. No, she corrected herself. It wasn’t the color of them that reminded her of space, it was the utter lack of any type of warmth. There was no soul behind those eyes. And that menacing tattoo twisting up the side of his throat, decorating the edge of his left cheek and temple where it flared out to partially cover his shaved head, only added to his sinister look.
“Are you going to kill me?” Surprisingly, her voice barely shook at all, in spite of the terror running through her veins.
“Yes.” There was no hesitation in his voice, not one ounce of remorse on his ruggedly handsome face. “But not today, little mouse.” He gave her an ominous smile.
“Why not today?” she asked in a flash of sudden boldness. Or maybe it was stupidity. “Why not just get it over with?” What are you doing, Laney? Shut up!
“Because today I need you to drive me home. Do you have a car?”
Okay. Not what she had been expecting him to say. But no way, no how, was she taking this guy anywhere. Lie, Laney. Lie. And she tried to. But Laney felt the pull of his control on her mind, trying to force the truth out of her. Gritting her teeth, she fought against it. Her head felt heavy, like it was bolted to her neck, but somehow she managed to shake it back and forth. “No,” she told him.
Those black eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms over his wide chest. She noticed then that he wasn’t, in fact, completely healed. His skin still hung a bit loose on his large frame, the color still a bit…off…and that was what gave his face such a rugged look. “You’re lying.”
“Yes,” she answered before she could stop herself, then she clamped her jaw shut before she could admit anything else. Of course he knew she had a car. She’d driven away in it the night before.
He cocked his head to the side and studied her, much as the dog had looked at him earlier, but without the adoration. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want to drive you anywhere except back to the gates of hell.” This time, she needed no mental prodding from him to tell the truth. And then, as long as she was at it, “And then I want to kick your blood-sucking ass right through them.”
Something shimmered in those black eyes for just a fraction of a second, and then it was gone again. Was it anger? Amusement? Laney braced herself for his reaction to her reckless words. But he just headed back to the bedroom, taking her by the hand as he passed, and pulling her along with him. The animals plodded along behind.
Once in her room, he pointed to her bed. “Sit,” he commanded.
Laney sat. So did the dog. She scowled down at the ugly thing.
“Don’t move,” the vampire told her. She re-directed her scowl at him, but he had turned his muscular back on her and was rummaging through her small closet. After perusing her small selection of clothes, he sighed. “There’s nothing in here that will fit me.”
“No?” she replied sarcastically. “Imagine that. Maybe you should’ve picked on somebody more your size.”
He stiffened, and then his massive shoulders began to shake. Laney was certain that this time the end was nigh. Damn her big mouth. When the vampire turned around, he wasn’t laughing, but nor did he look like he was about to add her body to the pile he’d started in the living room.
“You might be right.” Planting his hands on his narrow hips, he looked around. “Do you have a washer and dryer?”
Laney shook her head. “There’s a laundry mat by the office.” She paused. “I don’t have any quarters, though.” Like that would stop him from hanging around, or convince him to leave her here.
He shrugged. “I guess there’s no help for it.” Leaving the room, he was back in a few seconds time with his dirty clothes. Shaking the sand out all over her freshly vacuumed rug, he laid them on the blue comforter next to her, then he unfastened the towel from his waist and dropped it to the floor.
She tried not to look, really, she did. But he was right there. And her eyes were pulled in that direction by a force so strong it could not have been her own, and maybe it wasn’t. Either way, she couldn’t honestly say she was sorry.
The vampire’s hips were nearly at a level with her face, adjoined by rock hard abs and powerful thighs covered with just a light dusting of dark hair. That strange tattoo, she could now see, continued without a break from head to foot, but it was what was in the center of those hips that drew her attention the most. Even in its semi-hard state, his cock was impressive. Laney swallowed hard as her body reacted to his, a slow burning ache intensifying with each breath deep within her womb. Painfully aware that nothing but a thin nightshirt covered her naked body, she squeezed her thighs together and tore her eyes away to stare at the open bedroom door while he pulled on his pants. Clearing her throat, she managed to mumble, “I’d like to get dressed also.” She absolutely refused to say “please.”
She felt his eyes on her as h
e fastened his pants and reached for his shirt. “Go ahead. But be quick. And don’t try anything,” he added. “It won’t end well for you.”
Jumping up from the bed and away from his imposing presence, she quickly found a pair of jeans and a green button-down shirt. Grabbing some underthings out of the drawer, she started heading towards the bathroom.
“Where are you going?”
Laney stopped. “I’m going to the other room,” she said without looking at him.
“No.” His tone was final. “You’ll change here.”
Laney gritted her teeth. Enough was enough. She spun around to face him. “I have to use the bathroom. There’s no window in there, as you well know, so you have nothing to worry about. And that’s where I’m going to change.” He lifted one dark eyebrow, but said nothing else, so she stomped into the bathroom, and shut and locked the door. Leaning against it, she released a shaky breath, her bravado swiftly leaving her now that she was alone.
“Don’t take too long, little mouse, or I’ll come in after you,” he said from right outside the door.
Jumping away from that coarse voice, Laney switched on the light and checked that she had locked the door. Not, she supposed, that it would keep out a vampire if he really wanted to come in. She wasn’t sure just how strong they were, but she had a feeling she didn’t want to find out.
Laney took care of her most pressing needs, brushed her hair and teeth, and had her clothes on in record time. Finding a hair band, she pulled the unruly mass back into a low ponytail. Her eyes immediately went to the exposed skin of her neck. He had removed her bandage from the first bite, and there was no evidence that she’d spent the day feeding the creature in the other room, and for that she was grateful. The thought made her rethink the ponytail, but in the end she decided to keep it. It would keep her hair out of her way when she escaped. He wanted her to drive him somewhere? Fine. She’d drive him right into the morning sun, and then she’d stake him for good measure. But in spite of her ballsy state of mind, her stomach clenched and her hands shook. She wiped her clammy palms on her jeans.