Bite Me (Blood Chord Book 2)

by Alex Owens

  “Age before beauty,” I smiled sweetly at him. That was probably my mistake. He was probably thinking I was going to stake him from behind or something. I wasn’t nearly as good at playing nice as I wish I was, so I’m sure it made him suspicious.

  Finally, he sighed and stepped into the darkness. I followed, feeling like I had ants marching around in my skull. It was not a pleasant feeling. One thing was for sure, I wouldn’t ignore that spidey-sense in the future, like I did in that moment.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I flicked the switch and the pale glow half-illuminated the open space.

  “I haven’t done much down here yet. Just bought a freezer...” I shrugged.

  He flipped open the box that should have been protecting my life force and frowned.

  “It’s empty. Where do you keep your blood?”

  “In my veins. Duh.” I deflected.

  He gave me a stern look and I felt a lecture coming on. I was so not in the mood, but I did need to keep him downstairs for a while longer to give Morgan a chance to run.

  “I know, I know. I need to find a source. Believe me, I’ve been trying. It’s easier said than done around these parts.”

  “I know. More than you think. That’s one of the reason for my visit.”

  Change of topic, coming right up!

  “Aside from the freezer, what else should I do down here? I’ve been thinking of having a hidden door to the outside installed. I mean, what if we’re under siege and its noon on a bright summer day? We’d need a way to get out, right? Or maybe turn it into a safe room with two-inch thick steel plates and a biometric locking system?”

  Okay, so I was talking out of my ass for the most part. Though some of the nonsense that fell out of my mouth made sense on a certain level. Especially given the fact that I had no real security to speak of.

  “I can have Crystal work up some ideas for you, if you’d like?” Clive offered, an amused glint in his eye.

  “Hell no. How dumb do you think I am? Certainly not stupid enough to give her the keys to my castle just so that she can come back and slice me up in my sleep.” I was stunned that he’d even suggest such a thing.

  “If you’d rather not, that’s fine. But she’s been my head of security for over fifty years and you have no idea how many people would relish the chance to “slice me up” as you say. She’s good at what she does. You don’t have to like her. She’s never going to be your B-F-F, but she’d never do anything to raise my ire.”

  While he was making a certain amount of sense, my brain was still stuck on him awkwardly trying to throw the BFF lingo at me, then turning around and using a word like ire. The combination had me fighting off a giggle fit like I hadn’t had in a very long time.

  “What’s so funny? Catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror?” Said a whiny voice behind me, one I’d know anywhere.

  Crystal stood at the base of the stairs looking like a petulant child.

  “God, what are you... twelve?” I asked.

  “Can I borrow you’re phone Clive, mine seems to be dead.” She ignored me completely.

  What a bitch.

  He pulled his cell out of his pocket and tossed it over to her.

  “The reception down here is horrible. Fastest way to kill a battery is to leave it on. That’s why I keep mine turned off when I’m here. Hell, it usually stays in my purse the whole time I’m at home.” I just couldn’t seem to shut up.

  Why the hell was I being so helpful? Probably because it was either keep talking, or suck the twat dry. I quickly counted on my fingers the number of days since I’d last fed. The count, too many. Thanks for nothing, iVamp.

  Crystal finally glanced in my direction. “So you don’t have your phone on you now, then?”

  I pursed my lips and shook my head.

  She turned and walked away without acknowledging me. I so hated her with a flaming passion. I’d like to stab her in the eye with a Spork. Or maybe give her a thousand paper cuts, followed by a lengthy bath of lemon juice.

  Just when I thought I couldn’t hate her anymore, she stopped half way up the stairs and addressed Clive. “It’s been about a week for you right? Since you’ve fed?”

  “If you say so...” he answered her. “You’d know better than I would these days.”

  To me, he finished, “Crystal coordinates with my assistant on trivial things like that.”

  “Perfectly sensible,” I responded in a proper British voice. Leave it to Clive to make so little out of something I considered to be the bane of my existence.

  Crystal directed her questions back to me, “And you’re getting all twitchy and pale, so I’d say you’re about due too. Oh, and I know the freezer’s empty. Thanks for giving Clive a tour of the house so I’d have time to double-check. Have fun you two.”

  And with that she was gone. I heard her slide the deadbolt on the door, effectively sealing us in.

  “What the...” I sprinted up the stairs to check, and sure enough the door was bolted from the outside. I turned back to Clive, who stood still in the middle of the room. “What...have you... done?”

  I stomped down the stairs and stopped five feet from him. I didn’t trust myself to get any closer. This stunk worse than the marsh at low tide.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.” Clive looked around the room, suddenly nervous it seemed. He was right to be nervous. My anger was beginning to radiate off me in waves. Maybe he didn’t have anything to do with what she was pulling.

  “Why did she lock us in here?” I gritted my teeth.

  “I’m not entirely sure, but I think I can take a few educated guesses.”

  “Well?” I crossed my arms over my chest and waited.

  “She took my phone, asked us how long it had been since we’ve both fed and locked us inside of the basement in an otherwise empty house. I presume she thinks this is going to turn into some sort of cage match.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “At some point, we will get hungry enough to turn against each another. I don’t know what you did to piss her off, but clearly this is her way of making me kill you.”

  “As if. And I didn’t do a damn thing to her. I don’t even know her.” I scoffed. “What makes you think I won’t kill you first?”

  “I’m older, stronger and more cunning.” He smiled smugly. “You, baby-vamp, don’t stand a chance.”

  “Okay, for arguments sake, let’s say I manage to blunder my way into killing you. What then? She finally lets me out and I inherit your kingdom, snazzy cufflink collection and all?”

  “It doesn’t work like that, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s probably for the best. The first thing I’d do is stake that bitch and then I’d have to interview a bunch of people for the open security position, and all of that sounds awfully boring.”

  He chuckled at that and looked around the room, focusing on a large pile of crap I’d never unpacked after the move. He pulled a bunch of boxes aside and stacked them neatly along one wall. Unearthing a threadbare loveseat I’d forgotten about, he sat on one side and patted the space next to him.

  “So, what do we do now? I don’t feel like killing you just yet.”

  “Now,” he said, “we get comfortable and wait.”

  “You do realize that it could be days before anyone comes looking for me, right?” I hopped to a seated position on the top of the freezer. “My daughter is on vacation with her dad—they won’t be back until next weekend. And Morgan...”

  “You sent her away.” Clive finished my sentence for me.

  “How did you know that?”

  “Vampire ears, Claire. You should know that background noise will not keep someone as old as myself from hearing your conversations.”

  Ah, and there I thought I’d been a clever little vamp.

  “Anyway, Morgan won’t come back until I call her, which I can’t do because I don’t have my phone.”

  “What about your little dog man?” His face was blank, bu
t I detected a wicked glint in his eyes.

  “He’s not my... wait, how do you know about Linc?”

  My mind flashed back to my last date, where I’d run into Crystal in the restaurant bathroom. “You had me followed?”

  “I told you we’ve had to keep an eye on you. How else did you think we’d been doing that? By crystal ball? I admit, I prefer the old ways for most things, but I’m not that dusty.”

  “Whatever, he won’t be coming around either. And I’m done talking to you right now.” I leaned back against the concrete wall and assumed a meditative position. I knew I should have joined Morgan at her medi-yoga-laties classes. I could have used a big dose of inner tranquility right about then.

  Clive kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the love seat. His legs hung over one end, but he didn’t seem to mind. He closed his eyes and I looked away quickly. Appearing to be sleeping made Clive look too human, too vulnerable. And that wouldn’t do at all.

  Each time I forgot that Clive wasn’t a total monster, it ended badly. I wouldn’t be making that mistake again, no way.

  I fumed on my perch for what seemed like a very long time, lost in my own thoughts.

  Why, whenever the Triad was involved did things always turn to crap? I mean seriously, you’d think I would have learned my lesson before that moment. I should have kicked Clive out the minute I realized he’d broken into my home.

  And that bitch Crystal would get hers. She was trying to kill me after all, albeit via Clive, but that was splitting hairs. Bottom line: she wanted me dead and that was a threat. If this plan of hers didn’t work, who knows what she’d try next.

  She’d probably try to use Quinn to get to me. I couldn’t let her get that far.

  Close to coming unhinged, I caught myself giggling.

  “What’s so funny?” Clive didn’t bother to open his eyes.

  “I can trust her, huh? Crystal would never do anything to piss you off, you said.” I flicked a spider off of my pants leg and watched it fly across the room.

  “Tell me Clive, is your ire raised now?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hours passed. Many, many hours, and Clive had been powered down for most of them. That was a blessing really. I was having enough of a discussion inside my own head, I didn’t need to add aimless small talk in there too.

  Mostly, I thought about my conflicting feelings about Clive. I hated him one minute, and I understood him the next. Out of the three Triad members, Clive was the only one I acted like myself around. When I was with Gregor I had felt like a silly lil’ school girl, doodling his name on a scrap piece of paper. And honestly, he’d not shown any interest in getting to know me outside of the bedroom (or private strip club room, if I’m being totally honest.) I’d also been around him before I’d learned to block other’s emotions, so the odds were good that my feelings hadn’t been my own.

  The same went for Bette. It was impossible to separate my true feelings for her from the overwhelming tide of her Vamp glamour and other emotions. I probably wouldn’t know how I really felt about her until we met again. And worse, she held most of the control where I was concerned, so I felt like I was walking on eggshells with her. She was well-traveled and dazzling, powerful and direct—all the things I was not. I didn’t see myself as her equal, so if I ever managed to get past my anger towards her, any relationship we might have would always feel lopsided to me.

  I did know one thing—that I was comfortable living in the land of bisexuality all on my own. Bette may have shown me the other side, but she hadn’t used her powers of persuasion to get me there, which was some comfort.

  A noise made me look up. My roomie was trying to get more comfortable it seemed.

  Clive... well I didn’t care what he thought of me. I said what I wanted to, when I wanted to and if he didn’t like it, well then, he could kiss my alabaster ass. You have no idea how freeing that was.

  Also, he was also the only one out of the three Triad members that hadn’t tried to use his persuasive gifts to influence how I felt about him. It was like he wanted me to see the real him, fangs and all. (Sorry, sorry. Bad pun, I know. But accurate.)

  The drawback to giving him a little credit in the likability bank? Clive the Terrible was the one I was most comfortable around. How messed up as that?

  Rolling my neck, I stretched out my legs, flexed my finger tips and cracked my back. Boredom had long since set in. I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my cropped blazer, hoping to find something, anything, to occupy my mind for the next few dreadful minutes. And what do you know, I found it.

  I pulled out the creamy, expensive feeling envelope and wondered, how’d that get in there? It was the envelope that had come with the violin—Bette’s letter that I’d pocketed and then forgotten about.

  I let the weight of it settle in my hand, steeled my nerves and slipped a fingernail under the flap. Pulling slowly, so as not to wake Clive, it took me a full minute to get the darn thing open. Freed from its wrapping, Bette was only seconds away from being in my head.

  I wasn’t sure I was ready for that, but it’s not like I had anything better to do. I unfolded the letter and began to read.

  My Dearest Clara,

  I hope this letter finds you well and that you are settling into your new home. From all accounts, you seem to be doing just fine with the transition despite my absence. For that, I do apologize. I truly want to earn the chance to make it up to you someday.

  You may be wondering why I’ve sent you the violin and I am unable to answer that question with ample clarity. I apologize for that as well.

  Upon returning to my home, the enchanted instrument has given me nothing but grief. Every day since we’ve parted, it has begged for my attention. No, that’s not quite right; it has demanded my attention. It makes music in the dead of the day, pulling me from the deep, dreamless slumber of our kind. It refuses to stay put; I’ve returned it to the display case on numerous occasions, only to find it later resting throughout the villa in the most absurd places: in the library on top of a stack of books, under my bed covers, inside my walk-in cooler, and nested between my orchids in the greenhouse.

  The harassment has been unrelenting. Finally, it has pushed me to my limit. So I asked it, what is the problem? What do you want from me?

  And do you know, it answered me in a fashion. Not with words, no, but with an overwhelming knowledge that it wanted to be where you are. And so you see, I had to send it to you. I’m positive once it is in your care, it will be no further trouble. And perhaps, it will be a beautiful reminder for you, one from the story of how we first met—the beginnings of our relationship.

  I’ve said more than I wanted to, so I will leave you for now. Just know this: I think of you often and a part of me is there with you, even now. I’m including my contact information as well, in case you have need of anything.

  Until Someday,

  Bette

  I folded the letter and tucked it back into the envelope. I couldn’t bring myself to put it away. Instead, I stared at the script of my name, tracing it with my eyes over and over again. Studying the flourish of the letters, the little curl at the top of the “C” and the slant of the “I” in my name. It was as if by examining the way Bette scripted my name, that I would be able to glean her true feelings.

  I sighed at the absurdity of my line of thinking.

  “What do you have there?” Clive said.

  I shook my head and dropped the letter in my lap like it had burned me.

  He sat up and straightened himself out. I had to look away while he fussed with the material pulled too-tight over his hips. By the gods, I’d been cooped up for far too long in the basement for sure, if Clive and his bunched trousers were making me all twitchy.

  “Nothing, just keeping myself busy with the contents of my pockets.” I hopped down from my perch on the freezer, stuffed the letter back into my pocket and paced the length of the room. My legs felt spindly and I hoped that was from sitting in one pl
ace for too long, but I was starting to suspect it had something to do with my rising hunger.

  A stabbing pain to my gut confirmed my suspicions. And it was a doozy. I’d never gone this long before, which was scary enough on its own. Coupled with the fact that my only hope at a decent meal sat on the couch, eyeing me cautiously, and I had a strong feeling that the odds would not be ‘ever in my favor.

  Clive stood and watched as I circle the room, occasionally pressing a hand along the concrete block wall for support. The bricks were cool under my fingers and grounded me somewhat—the room didn’t feel like it was going to go spinning apart so long as I held contact with it. Kind of like the ol’ foot off the bed drunk trick.

  “Come here,” he pulled me tightly into an embrace and placed a fingertip on my forehead. Tapping twice, he asked, “You have a shield up here for blocking, right?”

  I bit my lip and nodded.

  “Here’s what I’m thinking,” he wrapped both arms around me and my legs felt like they were ready to give out completely. We swayed together for a moment before he continued. “You can borrow talents; I’ve seen this first hand. And you soak up emotions like a chamois, so there’s a chance that you can...”

  My stomach felt like a super-heated cannon ball had been dropped into it. I fought to focus on what Clive was saying, it seemed important. “Can what?”

  “Well... I have to wonder if you could use that ability to take one thing and turn it into something else.” He stared at me expectantly, like I should be following his logic.

  I didn’t have enough neurons firing at the moment. “Now’s not the time to be obtuse. I’m shriveling up here.”

  “More direct then, right.” He pulled in a deep breath and spit it out. “I think that you could feed of something other than blood. Things, actually.”

  That piqued my interest. “No more bloody mishaps. No more blood, period? I’m in.” I slurred. I sounded like a diabetic on the verge of a sugar crash.

  Clive pulled me over to the couch, sat and pulled me into his lap. “Mind you, I don’t know that it will work, but we are out of options here. Now would be the time to go out on a limb.”