by L. E. Wilson
Laney watched it all, feeling as if she were in some kind of really messed up dream. Her stomach growled again, letting her know that this was, unfortunately, her new reality, and she barely resisted the urge to run over to the food and start shoveling it into her mouth.
When everything was on the table, he pulled out the chair. “Come here,” he ordered. “Eat.”
She contemplated telling him that she wasn’t hungry, but only for about half a second. Hangry was not a good look on her, and starving herself would accomplish nothing. Sliding off the bed, she made her way cautiously over to the table. She half expected him to grab her and sink his fangs into her throat as soon as she got near him, but he just motioned again for her to sit and even pushed in her chair.
“Eat,” he repeated.
Bypassing the burger for now, she grabbed a handful of fries and shoved them into her mouth, washing them down with some bottled water. When the worst of the hunger pangs were gone, she dug into the giant burger. She didn’t even care that it had tomatoes on it, which she hated, and took two big bites before pulling them off. The vampire hovered behind her the entire time, putting a damper on the enjoyment she otherwise would have gotten from filling her stomach.
“What is this?” Looking over her shoulder, she saw him holding her bag. In his large hand was the book she’d grabbed out of her nightstand before they’d left her apartment. It was a copy of the child’s book Goodnight Moon. The rest of the contents were spilled all over the bed.
“That’s mine.” She tried to sound casual. If he thought it was important to her, he might take it away. “It’s just an old keepsake. And I’d appreciate it if you stayed out of my stuff.”
One side of his mouth lifted in something resembling a smile. “I only wanted to know what it was that was so fucking important to you that you left me waiting in the other room.”
Laney remained silent.
He pointed with his chin to the food in front of her. “Eat.” Then he started putting all her stuff back in her bag, including the book.
Turning back around, she did as he told her, grateful that he hadn’t pressed the matter. Her nerves were frayed. She didn’t think she could handle going there right now if he had demanded an explanation. When she couldn’t eat another bite, she wiped her mouth self-consciously.
“Are you finished?”
Laney nodded, and he took the container from in front of her and put it on the floor for the dog to wolf down what was left. When the container was licked clean, he poured cat food into one side and water into the other, leaving it on the floor for the animals. For the first time, Laney realized that while she had been running like the hounds of hell were after her, the vampire had found their room and unloaded the car before bothering to come after her. Including Fraidy and his new friend. And he’d still caught up to her before she’d made it to the highway. Thinking about how he’d accomplished all of that in so short a time left her head spinning. She started to tremble uncontrollably, the fear that had been momentarily sated with food rushing back, for she’d just had a terrifying realization.
Now that her dinner was over, his was sure to begin.
Chapter 10
Dante was thirsty. So thirsty, in fact, that he knew the female, his main blood source at the moment, would not survive unless he fed her some solid food and let her regain her strength. Even with his blood to revive her, he’d be taking a chance. She was only a human, after all. And the fatigue she’d succumbed to while driving throughout the night had not escaped his notice. Her being too tired to travel any further was one of the reasons he’d opted to stop at this hotel for the day.
But now he wondered if the head drooping and the sleepy eyes had just been a ruse, a way to throw him off track so she could take off on him as soon as she’d seen her chance. A grudging respect was beginning to grow for this human. That little stunt of hers had taken him completely by surprise. Something that rarely happened.
The second reason he’d had her stop was because he didn’t trust her to drive through the middle of the day without yanking the blanket off him and letting him fry in the sun. She was frightened of him, but not frightened enough.
Starving her would only impede his own feedings, though. There were other ways to gain control over his little mouse—like that book in her bag. There was definitely more to that than she was telling him. It was important to her, and he would find out why…in time. First, however—
“Stand up,” he ordered. His new friend needed to go outside before they settled down for the day, and he didn’t trust the woman to stay put if he left her alone in the room. She would run again. He’d never been more certain of anything in his life.
A horrific ache hit him in the direct center of his chest at the thought of her getting away, stealing his breath. Startled by the feeling, and not at all liking what it fucking implied, Dante snuffed the emotion, cloaking it with anger. Tilting his head to the side, his fangs shot down and his upper lip lifted in a sneer as he waited for her to get her ass in gear.
Turns out, she wasn’t stupid. She immediately jumped up out of the chair at the sight of his displeasure. Or maybe it was the growl that visibly raised the hair on her arms that spurred her into action. Whatever it was, she obeyed and now stood waiting for more instruction. He took her arm and issued a silent command, telling the dog to follow. The cat meowed at him in question, and he let it know that it could come as well.
When the woman realized they were all heading to the door, she dug in her heels. “Fraidy doesn’t go outside.”
“He’ll be fine.”
She glanced back over her shoulder as he opened the door and forced her outside. “But what if he runs out into the road?” A thread of genuine fear was in her voice.
“He won’t.”
“He will. He does it all the time. Which is why I don’t let him out.”
Dante stopped and glared down at her, calming his rising temper with effort. “The fucking cat will be fine.”
She glanced over at her pet where he was sniffing around the edge of the parking lot with the dog. “But—”
“He won’t leave. I told him to stay by us. And unlike his human owner, the cat will actually follow my orders.”
Her eyes snapped up to his face. “Unlike his owner, you’re not sucking the life from his veins every chance you get, either.” A look of horror crossed her features as soon as the words left her mouth, but then she took a deep breath and her jaw set in that stubborn way he was beginning to recognize. Crossing her arms, she refused to back down. Dante narrowed his eyes, but held his tongue. He wasn’t about to waste his time arguing with this human, and turned away before he did exactly as she’d accused just for the fuck of it. And if he took her vein out of anger, he’d kill her for sure. Or, at the very least, have to wait days for her to recover, which he couldn’t afford to do. With the shape he was in, he’d do best to feed daily. And he needed to get home. Finding a new traveling companion didn’t appeal to him, either.
“Why don’t you just use your vampire mind control and make me do what you want?” she asked, purposefully provoking him.
He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled down at her. “Because that would take all the fun out of it, little mouse.”
The woman paled and looked away. But then she surprised him. Again. “My name is Laney.”
Yes. Laney.
The name meant “torch of light,” if he remembered correctly. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a light anywhere in the world bright enough to pierce the darkness within him. But he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to return the gesture. She wouldn’t live to tell anyone about him anyway.
“I am Dante. Dante Gabor.” Not wanting to give her any ideas that he was getting soft, however, he added, “Not that you’ll ever have the chance to tell anyone about me.” He mentally called the animals back to him and ushered them all back into the room before she could say anything else.
Once inside again, the woman—Laney—stood awk
wardly to the side as he made sure the heavy curtains were pulled across the blinds that covered the one and only window. The bed was off to the side, and there was little chance the sun would hit him there, but he didn’t like to take any chances. Then he locked the door. When he turned around, he found three pairs of eyes looking at him expectantly. He pointed to the corner of the room, and the dog obediently went over and lay down. The cat followed at a more sedate pace, sitting next to it and swatting at the tail that couldn’t seem to keep from wagging.
Dante inhaled deeply. Fear. He could feel the female’s fear. Could smell it from where he stood. It beckoned to the darker side of him, to the ancient predator inside of him that he exulted in letting out. Her fear aroused him. He liked her afraid. He wanted to devour her, literally. And sexually.
And yet, at the same time, the intensity of his cravings for her made him…uncomfortable. He didn’t want her to run from him. He wanted her to desire him the way he desired her.
For he did desire her. He wanted her blood, yes, but also her body. Possibly even her soul. The realization was eye opening, and left him staring at the woman trembling in front of him in amazement. Her eyes shifted away when she noticed his unwavering stare, and Dante growled with displeasure that he was no longer the object of her attention.
He approached her as one would approach a cornered animal, admiring the way her spine straightened and how she stood her ground in spite of her diminutive size, and the way her blood pounded through her veins. He could hear it—every beat of her heart. Each step he took made it beat faster until he could visualize the blood rushing through her arteries. By the time he was within touching distance, her breath came in short, erratic pants.
Stopping just inside her personal space, he waited for her to look up. But she refused, keeping her eyes on the center of his chest. “Look at me, little mouse.”
Still, she refused. So he took her chin between his fingers and forcibly tilted her face up until she had no choice. He looked into her brown eyes. The rich color tinged with green specks of fear. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Where the fuck had that come from?
But he found that it was true. At least for tonight. Slowly, so as not to make her run, he allowed himself to do what he’d wanted to do since he’d found her collapsed on the kitchen floor. He dropped his hand, palming her breast through the thin material of her shirt. Her nipple puckered into his palm, even through her bra, and he cocked his head and smiled as the blood rushed into her face. He pinched it between his fingers—hard.
Instead of pulling away, her body lurched forward into his touch. She caught herself right away and tried to cover the reaction by stepping back out of his reach, but it was too late. He’d seen her response. He’d felt it. He could smell the scent of her lust rising to mix with the stench of her fear.
Dropping his arm back down to his side, he taunted her. “Are you afraid of me, little mouse?”
She didn’t answer him, but her eyes skittered away.
“Good. You should be afraid. I could kill you instantly with little more than a flick of my wrist.” Her trembling returned, and a tear leaked from her eye to run down her cheek. Dante tracked it, following its path down over her fragile jawline. It disappeared as it followed the curve of the bone, and then reappeared to make its way down her graceful throat, only to disappear again under the neckline of her shirt. He mourned its loss, jealous of its ability to touch that soft skin so intimately.
Grinding his jaw, he reminded himself that she was not his to care for. This human…this woman…was more. She was better than that, deserved more than his depraved existence could give her. Dante recognized her worth, in spite of her being a lowly mortal.
And that made him hate her. Made him want to bring her down to his level. Made him want to prove to her that she was no better than he was. She was human. She was inferior. She was nothing.
With one step, he was on her. A quick tug had the hair band out of her hair. The dark strands tumbled around her shoulders, thick and soft, as the fragrance of her shampoo wafted to his nose. Dante cupped the back of her skull, took a handful of that silky hair, and yanked her head back. Laney winced, but didn’t cry out. His eyes travelled over her face—eyes tightly shut, but her jaw clenched in defiance—and his admiration for her grew. His eyes dropped to her exposed throat. A groan escaped him as he studied the blue vein pulsing in her neck, clearly visible to him through the near translucent skin. Thirst burned his throat and cramped his still-healing muscles. His hand tightened in her hair, eliciting another wince. He needed to feed. Just enough to ease his suffering.
Drawing his fist in toward him, he brought her closer, and lifted her throat to his waiting fangs. His other arm wrapped around her body to hold her tight against him. She resisted, her hands pushing against his chest even as her feet dangled a foot from the carpet.
“Please,” she sobbed. “Please don’t kill me.”
With an animalistic growl, he struck her throat. The first mouthful of her blood was fucking heaven. The second was even better. He fed from her like a male starving, each swallow hitting his gut and then spreading through his starving body, sending healing power into his emaciated muscles. Nerve endings sparked to life as her blood burned through him in the very best possible way, igniting his senses. His manhood swelled, throbbing within the confines of his pants. Smells became stronger, his sight became clearer, his skin more sensitive until he felt reunited with the elements around him.
Until he nearly felt as one with the woman in his arms. Almost.
MINE. Caught up in the blood lust, the word crashed through him, reverberating like thunder.
“Dante….”
Her plea broke through his sense of euphoria, the sound of his name on her tongue causing him to moan in pleasure.
“Dante, please,” she whimpered.
His hand loosened in her hair, just enough so that he wasn’t hurting her. He extracted his fangs, licking the wounds to heal them. Before he realized what he was doing, his lips had replaced his teeth, and he was kissing his way down her smooth throat, following the trail the tear had made. He could still taste its salty essence. Laney made a little sound in her throat, part distress and part passion.
Dante tightened his hold on her, carefully, so as not to break her fragile bones, and carried her the short distance to the bed. He didn’t stop to think about what he was doing. And even if he had, it wouldn’t have stopped him. He just knew that he needed to be closer to this female. Laying her across the bedspread, he released her to pull his shirt up and off. Then his hands went to the waistline of his pants, quickly undoing them to ease the pressure there, but he didn’t take them off. Not yet. He wouldn’t be able to control himself if he freed his sex pulsing painfully within.
The entire time her eyes travelled over him as if she was just as caught up in the spell weaved around them, her brown eyes wide in her pale face and darkened in passion.
“Take off your clothes,” he ordered huskily.
She blinked. Once. Twice. The haze in her eyes cleared. Then she frowned and shook her head. “No. I won’t.”
Dante’s upper lip rose in a sneer, exposing his fangs. “I said, take them OFF.”
“No.” Pushing herself into a sitting position, she stared him right in the eye.
Dante cocked his head and studied this small female. She had just managed to do something no one else had done for as long as he could remember—knock him for a loop. The color was gone from her skin, and she was so weak that she swayed where she sat, yet she stared up at him with eyes that sparked with glorious defiance.
And Dante found he could do…nothing.
He was caught in a quandary. He wanted her naked. He wanted her naked five fucking minutes ago. But yet, he was hesitant to force her because he knew it would hurt her. Something he’d never had an issue with before.
No, not just hesitant. He really couldn’t. He opened his mouth to tell her again to strip, but no words came
out. He reached out with his mind, but she had raised her mental shields, and he could find no way around them without the influence of his blood. He couldn’t even bring himself to force her to feed from him. For the first time in his long life, he cared about what his victim wanted.
It completely fucking unnerved him.
Turning on his heel, he strode out of the hotel room, slamming the door shut behind him.
Chapter 11
Laney watched Dante stomp out of the room with his pants still undone, jumping when the door slammed loudly behind him. The dog immediately ran over to it and stood there whining, not happy that he’d been left behind. Fraidy lifted his head, but didn’t bother getting up, content to let the dog do all the work.
She started to tremble uncontrollably, her teeth chattering so hard that it hurt her jaw. Scooting over on her butt until she was sitting on the edge of the bed, she attempted to stand on wobbly legs. Laney wasn’t quite sure what had just happened, but she wasn’t going to just sit there on the bed and wait for him to come back and finish what he’d started.
Bracing herself against the nightstand with one hand, she bent down and picked up her pack with the other and took it into the bathroom with her. She knew she wouldn’t get very far if she tried to leave right now. Even if the vampire wasn’t nearby, she was in no condition to escape. So she’d settle for the protein bar in her back, some water, and a fast, hot shower. Very fast. The last thing she wanted was for him to return and find her exactly how he’d wanted her.