by L. E. Wilson
But she needed some time to recover if he was going to keep her until they got home. So instead, he’d spent the day staring up at the water-stained ceiling, re-living over and over in his head the way she’d come in his arms with such violent abandon when he’d offered his blood to her. He wanted to make her come like that again. And he would, once he got her back to Seattle and into the underground beneath the city where he dwelled. There, she could scream and beg and try to deny him all she wanted. No one would hear her, and no one would be coming to save her. He could do whatever he wanted with her, make her do whatever he wanted to him, before he bled her dry and tossed her body into the Sound with the rest of the humans that had been unfortunate enough to be invited into his home.
Just imagining her at his mercy in his feeding room made him hard as a rock, but he didn’t touch himself. Didn’t relieve the sweet agony of his erection. Oh, no. He was saving that for her. She was going to relieve that ache for him.
They entered the city going west on I-90 until they hit I-5, and then he directed Laney north. The tents of the homeless lined the grassy area next to the freeway ramp, the area lit by the distant lights of downtown Seattle. Dante gave his future meals a distracted glance. There was a lot of homeless in this city. It was one of the reasons he was glad Luukas had decided to make it the home of the Vampire Council of the North American territory. There were so many lowlifes wandering around, that when a few disappeared here and there, no one really cared or made much of a fuss about it, if they even noticed at all.
From his place in the back seat, Dante guided Laney through the downtown area to the high-rise apartments that he called home, along with Luukas and the rest of his Hunters. He had her pull into the underground parking garage, the same garage he’d been abducted from weeks before. A group of fucking humans in a black van had squealed to a stop inches from where he’d stood. One had distracted him while another had snuck around and jabbed him in the neck with a needle full of gods-knew-what, effectively knocking him out cold. He’d been out long enough for it to be day when he’d woken up.
His only consolation was that he’d managed to kill one of them and literally scare the piss out of another one before they’d managed to get him into the plane that he’d later jumped out of. Desert sand was not as soft as it looked when you hit it dropping from the sky with no parachute.
“Where should I park?”
Laney’s shaky voice pulled him back into the present. “Go down the ramp as far as you can, then just find a spot anywhere,” he answered.
She followed his directions, driving past another car that had their reverse lights on without stopping. He saw her glance in that direction, though, desperation clearly evident on her face, and was impressed at how much courage it took for her not to stop and endanger the lives within that vehicle.
The farther down they went, the more her hands shook on the wheel, and the more the stench of her fear filled the car. The dog sat up and whined next to him, clearly smelling it, too. Dante rubbed his head and ears, soothing the canine. When they got to the very last level, he pointed to an empty spot near the back elevator. “There.”
Laney pulled the car smoothly into the parking spot and shut off the engine. She didn’t move to get out, in spite of the fact that he’d released his hold from her shoulders. Her heart thundered so loud it echoed in the small space. At least, to his ears.
Ordering the animals to stay, he got out of the car and stretched, enjoying the moment. Tormenting humans this way was one of his greatest pleasures. The fear of what was going to happen was often worse than what actually happened. Not in his case, but usually. Where he was involved, the reality of what he did to his victims was way, way worse.
Dante opened the car door. “Get out.” He spoke quietly, but firmly, so she would know he wasn’t fucking around. The time for games was over. Thirst burned his throat as her scent drifted up to his nose. “Now,” he added.
The woman struggled to take off her seatbelt, and he let her be, enjoying her terror, though not as much as he thought he should be. She finally managed to release the latch and got out of the car, bringing her backpack with her. Before they left the vehicle, he felt the need to warn her one last time. “If you run, I will catch you, little mouse. If you hide, I will find you. If you happen to see another human and you try to get them to help you, they will die a bloody death right in front of you. And you will join them immediately after.”
“And if I do none of those things?” she asked in a whisper.
Dante tracked the tears that were wetting her cheeks, trying to figure out what the fuck that twinge in his chest was. “If you do as I say, and only as I say, I might spare you the pain.” Leaning over, he put his mouth right by her ear. “Dying by vampire bite can be a great fucking way to die. I once made a woman come so many times while I drained her that she didn’t even realize she was dying.”
Her spine stiffened as he straightened again and she looked him right in the eye, in spite of the silent tears running down her cheeks. “Is that supposed to make me feel better about it?” she spit out.
“It’s your choice,” was all he said before he took her by the arm and started leading her toward the elevator.
“What about Fraidy?” she asked in a small voice. “What’s going to happen to him and the dog?”
Reaching the elevator, he pushed the button and glanced around. It was an automatic thing to do, to scan the area for any type of threat that may be nearby. “They’ll be well taken care of,” he said absently. “I’ll keep them upstairs.”
She sniffed, and then, “Aren’t I going upstairs?”
He smiled down at her, letting his fangs fully show and the blood lust shine from his eyes. “No.”
The elevator doors opened, and he pulled her inside. Opening a hidden panel, he punched a button and closed it again. The elevator jerked slightly, and then started descending underneath the city. Dante stood to the left and slightly behind the woman, watching her with a curiosity that he couldn’t seem to contain. He found her uniquely fascinating.
She stood tall as they descended to her death, her shallow breaths and silent tears the only signs that gave away what she was feeling. Her unusual mettle made him want to…he didn’t know what it made him want to do. A few weeks ago he would’ve said “destroy it.” Slowly. Piece by piece. If she were any other woman, he would want to beat her down until she was nothing but a bloody puddle of babbling fear on the stone floor of his feeding room. But the thought of breaking the spirit in this female left him with nothing but a sour taste in his mouth, and muscles tensed to kick the ass of the bastard who dared to harm her. But there was no one here to confront, except his own self.
The doors opened, and Dante led her out into the Seattle Underground where he made his home. The original city before The Great Seattle Fire destroyed over thirty blocks, it was built primarily of wood and was prone to flooding and sewage backup. So the powers that be had decided to rebuild the city one to two stories higher than the original, leaving a maze of underground alleys and basements to fall into disuse—except by creatures such as he.
Recently, they’d re-opened some of the underground city as a tourist attraction, but Dante turned left, heading deeper into the hidden city where humans were not allowed. This part of the passageway was lit by small squares of opaque purple glass placed in the ceiling at regular intervals, put there by the original builders to allow some natural light. Pedestrians on the sidewalks above walked over the glass, unable to hear or see what was going on directly below them. When he reached the part of the passage that was blocked off from a cave in, he swooped Laney up into his arms without breaking stride and jumped to the top of the pile of bricks and dirt. Balancing her in one arm, he found the hidden latch and released the boards at the top. They swung out on silent hinges, leaving a space just wide enough to crawl through. Pushing the woman through feet first, he dropped her down to the other side and then followed her through the opening.
She stood where he’d set her down, jumping when he landed beside her, his boots making a thud on the old wooden walkway. Her hand reached through the darkness, searching for him, looking for reassurance. Like he was the one that would save her from the monsters hiding in the dark. It made something clench inside of him. He shook it off. She had no right to seek comfort from him. He was the monster.
And he couldn’t save her from himself.
Ignoring her hand, he took her by the arm again. “Come.” Hurrying down the passageway, he kept up a quick pace, dragging her along when she stumbled in the dark. Anger filled him. Anger at himself for being concerned about her and her feelings. Anger at her for touching the last remnants of humanity left inside of him.
She didn’t make a sound the entire trip other than her heavy breathing as she tried to keep up with him. When he reached the room he’d made into his own years before, he shoved her up against the wall. “Stay.”
She reached for him again when he let go of her, and again he felt that vice tighten in his chest. Kneeling down, he found the matches he kept on a makeshift shelf in the wall where one of the bricks had fallen out. Striking one, he lit the candles around the mattress that he slept on—when he slept at all.
Laney blinked in the sudden flare of light, lifting her hand to shield her eyes. He watched her as she lowered it a few seconds later, taking in her reaction. He shouldn’t care what she thought of his home.
Yet, he found that he did.
Her eyes went from the brick walls to the wooden planks of the floor, interspersed with areas that had corroded down to the dirt. Then they found the mattress with the thin blanket on top and rested there a moment. They ended on him, where he still kneeled on one knee on the other side of the small room. She didn’t say a word, and he couldn’t read her reaction, which bothered him to no end. He wasn’t sure what he wanted from her. Disgust? Fear?
Pity?
Enough was enough. Dante stood and went to her, planning to take her down the narrow tunnel behind him that led to his feeding room. He’d dug it out himself. There were devices there that had taken him a lifetime to collect. Devices that allowed him to put his victims through a plethora of fun things before he killed them—from rough sex to something a bit bloodier. Or a lot bloodier.
But when he reached her, he stopped. He imagined her chained and beaten, her smart mouth silenced from the pain. Something he’d been looking forward to this entire trip. Or so he thought. Except now, the image made his stomach lurch.
This…hold…she had on him had to stop. And it had to stop now.
“Laney.”
She wouldn’t look at him, and he found himself focusing on the top of her head. Her scent rose up around him, the sweet fragrance tinged with the sourness of her fear and the saltiness of her tears. His gums burned as his fangs grew impossibly longer, his hunger for her so intense it was making him lightheaded.
He felt disembodied—watching from a distance as a male that looked like him lifted his hand to her ponytail and freed it from the band. Her long hair fell forward around her shoulders to partially cover her face. Instead of dragging her down to the other room as planned, he picked up a handful of the soft strands and brought it to his nose, breathing in the lavender scent. Lifting his other hand, he buried those fingers in her hair also, sliding them back until he was cupping her head with both hands.
She is only a human. One quick twist, and it would be over. For both of us.
As Dante contemplated that thought, he felt her fingers wrap around his wrists. Her eyes lifted to his—finally!—glassy from her tears, yet the challenge she offered within them was more than clear.
She was daring him to do it.
His hands tightened on her skull until he knew he had to be hurting her, but she didn’t make a sound. Just ground her jaw together and continued to goad him on with her silent defiance. Dante’s breathing quickened. Such fearlessness in the face of certain death was something he’d rarely seen before. Conflicting emotions ran rampant inside of him. Part of him wanted to break her, and part of him wanted to applaud her.
In the end, he kissed her.
It wasn’t a tender kiss. It was too full of thirst, of hunger, of need. Her tongue met his with a tentative touch, and Dante groaned deep in his throat. One hand stayed gripped in her hair while the other fell to her ass and pulled her up and into his aching body. He wanted her to feel what she was doing to him.
She rubbed herself against his erection. It was nearly his undoing.
Enough!
He needed to take control. Breaking off the kiss, Dante put his hands on her shoulders and shoved her to her knees on the floor. Her eyes went immediately to the bulge in his pants, and when they flicked back up to his face they were hungry.
Dante’s breath caught in his throat. “Do you want this, little mouse?” He palmed the hard length through his pants, rubbing the heel of his hand over his manhood until the zipper cut into him.
She shook her head. “No.” But her eyes were glued to what he was doing. And as he watched, her little pink tongue flicked out to wet her lips.
“You’re lying.” Releasing her hair, he undid his pants and pulled out his sex. It was thick and long, filling his palm and then some. He guided the head to her sweet mouth. “Take it,” he demanded. Her eyes were on his swollen head. Her nostrils flared and her tongue wet her lips. Dante gritted his teeth. He had to calm down. He was too excited, having imagined this very scenario so many times over the last hours, he didn’t know if he was going to last long enough to actually feel her lips close around him. When she shook her head again, he cupped the back of her head and forced her to him. “Put your mouth on me, Laney.”
He probed her lips with the wide head, and with a moan of defeat, she opened her mouth and took in just the head. Her mouth was hot and wet, and as he pulled out, she ran her tongue around the tip. He pulled her to him again, and this time she opened her mouth wide, sucking hard as he slid inside.
Dante’s hips jerked forward as a shout was torn from his throat. Much as he tried to control it, to contain it, the pressure to come continued to build. Exposing his fangs, he hissed in pleasure. Laney’s hands went to his hips, and he thought she was going to push him away, but as always, she surprised him. Twisting her fingers into the sagging waistband of his pants, she pulled his hips closer, taking the length of him as far as she could. In and out. Faster and faster. The scent of her desire rose in the air, and he knew that if he touched her now, she’d be wet and ready for him. He was almost tempted, but the pleasure of what she was doing was too good to stop.
Low growls ripped from his chest as he watched his manhood sliding in and out from between her soft lips. The experience wasn’t anything like he’d imagined. His plan had been to shame her, to show her how worthless she was, that she was beneath him. A human. There for him to use or abuse as he saw fit. Good for nothing except sex and food.
Instead, she was bringing him to his knees.
Keeping his hold on her head with one hand, he moved the other to his balls and forced her to squeeze. She made sounds of protest in her throat, but he wouldn’t let her stop. Pumping in and out of her mouth, he forced her to cause him pain.
His orgasm hit him sudden and hard. Releasing her hair, he jerked out of her mouth and twisted away just in time. Sinking his fangs into his own arm to stifle his shouts of pleasure, he ejaculated all over the wall next to her.
When it was over, he licked at the self-inflicted wound and tried to catch his breath. He could feel the female’s eyes on him, but couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He was too shaken. Too raw. This place that had been his safe haven for so many years suddenly felt stifling, the walls closing in on him. He had to get the fuck out.
Storming past her, he hit the passageway and ran.
Chapter 13
Laney stumbled to her feet and looked around without really seeing the barren room that contained nothing but a misshapen mattress, a thick book with a plain
black cover, and a few candles. Relief that the vampire had left battled with the raging lust screaming for release that he’d left behind. Laney pressed a hand to her stomach and took deep breaths. She had no idea what had come over her, but she could still taste his sex in her mouth. And she wanted more.
For the hundredth time since she’d been attacked in the desert, she wondered what the hell was wrong with her. There had to be something wrong with her. No normal woman would feel this way. She couldn’t seem to decide whether to be terrified or aroused when it came to the monster that had chosen her as his prey.
And he couldn’t seem to make up his mind, either. One minute he was threatening her life, and the next he was kissing her like he would never let her go. His emotions, or lack thereof, were giving her whiplash. The outcome remained to be seen, but she wasn’t planning to hang around waiting for him to make up his mind. Her very life may depend on it.
Picking up her backpack, a pack of matches, and the tallest candle, Laney cupped her hand around the wick to keep the flame from going out and went back to the passageway the vampire had just tore down in his eagerness to get away from her. Walking as fast as she could without causing the flame to extinguish, she tried not to think about what else might be living down there. Things like bugs. Or worse—rats.
It seemed to take her forever to get to the cave-in. Setting the candle down on the wooden plankway, she eyed up the pile of debris, searching for the best way to get to the top. The right side was the least steep, so she walked over and attempted to get a handhold to start pulling herself up. But every time she grabbed onto something, it would cause a small avalanche of rocks, dirt, and bricks, and she would have to jump back out of the way or risk being buried alive.