Blood Betrayal (Deathless Night Series Book 4)

by L. E. Wilson

  It took them a while to convince her that she had.

  Turning away from the memory of the girl with the haunted eyes, she started running water in the old bathtub. It was best to forget her. That innocent girl didn’t exist in those eyes anymore, and never would again. She reached down to remove her shirt, and realized she didn’t have one on. So she shimmied out of her skirt and G-string and left them lying on the floor.

  Lowering herself into the lukewarm water, her mind wandered to her most recent “customer”. He must have a lot of money to afford private performances, for he had been here a lot the last few weeks. She frowned as that tight feeling in her chest stirred inside of her again. No. That didn’t feel right. The vibes she got from him when she was dancing almost felt as if she were torturing him instead of pleasuring him.

  Was he here against his will too? It seemed plausible in her state of mind. He was in a lot of pain. She knew this even though she couldn’t see him through the one-way mirror in the performance room. She also knew that it was always the same guy. She could feel him there, could feel the weight of his eyes on her as she danced. But not just watching. His emotions were so much more than she’d ever felt from anyone before. It was more than appreciation. More than lust. It was almost like he was…hungry. Starving…

  An angry knock on the door shook her from her thoughts of the man, and she tried to hurry and finish, but her limbs didn’t want to cooperate with what her anxious brain was telling them to do. Another angry knock was accompanied by a string of curse words spoken in Spanish.

  “I’m coming!” Ryan shouted. At least she thought she had shouted.

  Lifting herself out of the now chilly water, she grabbed the meager towel allowed to the girls and patted herself dry. Her skin, in direct contrast to the numbness she felt inside, was too sensitive for a vigorous rubdown. Behind the door hung a selection of clothing, each more ridiculous than the last, and all too revealing to wear anywhere but working the pole. Ryan grabbed the first thing she saw — a cut-off jersey shirt with orange stripes around the sleeves and a big number “10” on the front, along with a matching thong and knee socks with matching orange stripes along the elastic. White platform shoes completed the ensemble.

  She was Sporty Spice today.

  Ryan felt nothing as she turned to the stranger in the mirror and pulled her hair out of its messy updo, then fixed it into pigtails. All she needed was a lollypop to complete the fantasy, but they weren’t allowed to have anything sweet here. They barely fed their girls at all. Some kind of grainy mush and water was offered to them twice a day if their stomachs could handle it, and that was it. But the drugs…the drugs were abundant. She guessed it was easier to keep them compliant that way.

  As soon as she opened the door, the matron dug her bony fingers into Ryan’s thin arm and threw her halfway across the room. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her only friend, Josefina, huddled in the corner with her head down. She was very still, trying her best not to bring attention to herself, and the other women were gone. Catching herself in the doorway, Ryan turned around and asked, “Where is everybody?”

  The matron spun her back around. “No questions, puta. You know where to go.” The door slammed in her face and she jumped. She willed herself to move before she was pushed around again, but eventually she realized she was alone in the dimly lit hall. Her head turned in slow motion and her eyes widened in dawning horror as she realized the matron hadn’t come out of the cell with her, but was still in there with Jose.

  Ryan approached the door and pressed her face against the window. Her blood froze in her veins at the scene playing out before her, and then the numbness faded and her emotions returned in a rush. The matron was standing over Jose, a leather belt in her hands as she prodded and then kicked the young girl with her foot. Jose huddled in the corner, trying to make herself as small a target as possible. Her eyes were wide and filled with unshed tears as she caught sight of Ryan.

  She could feel Jose’s fear like it was her own. Banging her hand on the glass, she tried to distract the woman from the child. “You bitch! Leave her the fuck alone!” She grabbed the handle and rattled the door. “Leave her alone!”

  The belt rose and whistled through the air as it came down on Jose’s tender flesh with a loud crack. Ryan flinched and Jose yelped, drawing her knees in closer and trying to protect her face and stomach. The belt came down again, catching her across the outside of her thigh. A large welt swelled up where she’d been hit, the brown skin turning white at first and then darkening to a purplish-red.

  The matron lifted her arm to swing again, her eyes wild with bloodlust and the sick pleasure she got from beating those smaller and weaker than her.

  “I’ll fucking kill you! You hear me? I’ll kill you!” Ryan fought with the rickety handle of the door but it was dead bolted with her key from the inside. She screamed with Jose as the belt cracked across her back, the thin slip she was wearing doing nothing to protect her.

  A red haze of rage and pain came down over Ryan’s eyes, blurring everything in her vision except for the bitch with the belt. Seething with hatred, she focused on the sick woman that got pleasure out of the pain of children. She never came after the adult women, only the young girls. But this was the first time she’d gone after Josefina.

  Ryan nearly choked on her wrath as she watched her young friend being abused, her pain becoming Ryan’s pain. “I’ll fucking kill you,” she snarled.

  “Yes.” The whispered reply was accompanied by a soft caress on her cheek, her shoulder, down her upper arm.

  “Yes,” Ryan consented, and the touch was gone as suddenly as it had appeared.

  The matron raised her arm to strike again. She was covered in sweat both from the heat and her exertions and she was beginning to get tired, but the gleam in her eyes as she gazed down at her victim told Ryan that she wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon.

  Ryan smiled as those crazy eyes flew wide. The matron’s body suddenly seized, the belt falling from her hand as her other hand grasped at the material covering her chest.

  A few seconds later, she fell dead to the floor with a loud thump as her skull cracked off of the cement floor, leaving a smear of blood on the cement. Jose raised swollen eyes to Ryan and smiled. Ryan smiled back.

  Leaning over, Jose spit on the body lying next to her in disgust.

  Chapter 5

  Christian heard the door open and close at the back of the room. Gritting his teeth, he managed to flop over onto his stomach. He lay there for a second, absorbing the pain that was shooting though his body. Pulling his legs underneath him, he struggled to his hands and knees as his muscles cramped and screamed in protest. His nerve endings were so sensitive, the slightest movement felt like flames licking across his skin, but he had to see. He had to see if it was the female, come to entice and torment him some more.

  Lifting his head, he blinked the sweat out of his eyes and tried to control his breathing and work through the pain. It was her. She was back.

  His fangs exploded from his gums at the sight of her sauntering towards him in what should have been a ridiculous getup. But on her, it was only incredibly sexy. She made her way slowly into the room in her white platform boots, looking slightly confused, and Christian noticed for the first time that no music was playing. The music always started as soon as she entered the room. How was she going to dance with no music? Because he had to see her dance, no matter the agony it caused him.

  A horrific sound rent the air, startling him: A male’s cry of pain and grief coming from another location in the building. The female paused only briefly when she heard it, and then picked up her pace until she was right in front of him on the other side of the strange glass. She knelt down until she was at eye level with him. Lifting one hand, she placed her palm on the glass between them and shut her eyes. This close, he saw her eyebrows were the same pastel orange as her hair.

  “I can feel you,” she said in a strange singsong voice. “I can
feel your lust, and your pain. But I don’t know why you hurt because I can’t see you.” She opened her eyes and looked right at him. “I can’t hear you either. But I know you’re there.”

  “Please,” Christian hissed. He wasn’t sure what he was asking for. For her to get him out? Or for her to run away before he brutally ripped open her throat and drained her dry? He’d never hurt anyone since he’d been turned, unless they’d threatened his maker or his friends. And in that case, they’d totally deserved it. How would he live with himself if he ever hurt this gentle female? It didn’t matter what he was going through. Hurting her was not okay.

  She turned her head slightly and nodded, like she was listening to something or someone he couldn’t see. Christian glanced around and tried to quiet his rasping breaths so he could listen, but he couldn’t pick out what she was hearing. He struck out at the glass in frustration. He was a fucking vampire! How could she hear something that he couldn’t?

  Suddenly she smiled. “Yes,” she said.

  Her long pigtails blew forward and back in a sudden gust of wind he couldn’t feel from the other side of the barrier between them. It never occurred to him until later that there was nowhere for a breeze to have come from. There were no windows, and never once had he heard or felt an A/C unit kick on.

  Her smile widened, showing straight, white teeth with the slightest gap between the two in the front. “Hang in there, soldier,” she told him. “We’ll get you out.” Her features twisted in disgust. “They can’t hold us here anymore.” Then her eyes became worried, skittering around on the floor in front of her. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay. I’ll deal with it.”

  Who the fuck was she talking to? She was the only one here beside him, but he had the uneasy feeling she wasn’t talking to either of those two choices.

  A loud “clank” sounded off to his left and the unbreakable glass in front of him lifted an inch off the floor and slammed back down. Then it started lifting again, and this time it kept going. Dropping his head back, Christian could see it rolling back over the metal top of the box he was in. It moved at a snail’s pace, but it was moving, lifting off of the floor in front of him like a garage door. In no time at all, he’d be able to slide underneath of it.

  Cold fear flashed through him, dousing the fires that were burning him. Not for himself, but for the female. No one would be able to save her once he was out. And he would kill her if he got to her, of that he had no doubt.

  Bending to the side, she peered through the opening at the bottom of the wall. It was at about four inches and rising steadily. “Ah. There you are,” she said as his hands came into view. “Don’t be afraid.”

  How did she know he was afraid?

  “Get away!” he rasped. “Get the fuck away from me!” When she didn’t immediately obey him, he scuttled back away from the opening. The farther away from her he got, the more his body rebelled until he was coughing and gasping with the pain. “Please,” he sputtered. “Get away. Hurry.” The acid burned through his veins until he felt like his organs were going to incinerate.

  The wall had risen to about eight inches now.

  She reached under the glass. Her hand was slender and graceful. When she didn’t feel him there, she bent over until she could see. “Why are you way back there? Come on. We’re getting you out.”

  Why wasn’t she running away screaming at the mere sight of him? He was panting through his open mouth, his long fangs fully exposed, and he could tell by the way his eyes felt that they were as bright as emergency flares. She had to see that he wasn’t a normal man.

  When he didn’t move, she sat up with a jerk of impatience. As she did so, her ponytails swung back and forth again, and Christian caught the faintest whiff of her scent. He froze where he was, his fangs bared in a snarl. He took a deeper inhale. Gooseflesh broke out all over his body that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room.

  Gods! He’d never smelled anything like the scent of the female in front of him. A low growl echoed off the walls and he jerked his head around searching for this new threat, until he realized it was coming from him.

  Lord help him. He was well and truly fucked.

  The wall continued to rise, and although he fought the blood lust with everything in him, it was no use. Moving too fast for her to track, he was underneath it and launching himself at the girl. She grunted as he landed hard on top of her, his weight knocking the breath from her lungs. One of his hands slid behind her head, protecting it from hitting the hard floor, and the other arm was beneath her waist with his hand sprawled across her bare ass. He held her tight to him and ground his hips into hers as that mouth-watering scent of hers rose up to surround him like a cloud.

  He tried so hard to fight it. He really did. Whispering, “I’m so sorry,” he reared back, preparing to strike.

  Quick as a cobra, he went for the pounding pulse in her throat, but he wasn’t fast enough. He’d barely nicked her skin when unseen hands gripped him by the shoulders and legs. They yanked him up and off of her and tossed him across the room. He landed hard on his back and slid into the far wall.

  What. The. Fuck.

  With a roar of frustration, Christian flipped his body forward and back up onto his feet. He ran towards her at vamp speed, only to be deterred again. This time, the hands didn’t just toss him, but held him spread-eagle against the wall. No matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t free himself. Something between a scream of anger and a cry of heartbreak tore from his throat and echoed around the room.

  Moving slowly, the female got to her feet. Her eyes never leaving him as she lifted one of those graceful hands and touched the side of her neck. Her fingers came away streaked with her blood. A few drops trickled down over her collarbone.

  Christian’s tongue touched the tip of one fang, then shot out to lick her blood from his lower lip. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head as the sweetest ambrosia he’d ever tasted tickled his taste buds just enough to tease him.

  MINE.

  She tasted like the finest liquor, the sweetest honey, the juiciest pear. But underneath all that, he could also taste why she was acting so strange. There was some type of opiate in her blood, along with something else, something he’d never tasted before. It wasn’t just a normal speedball she was on. Exotic dancers were, after all, some of his favorite pastimes, and many got through their shifts with a little help. He knew the taste well, although he didn’t much care for the aftereffects.

  Her eyes grew larger with every second as they ran over his face, down his body to his muscles straining beneath his shirt, to the bulge in his jeans, and back up to his face. She took a few steps closer, blinking her eyes hard. She was finally seeing him. Really seeing him. Crossing her arms over her chest and hugging herself, she studied him much as he had been studying her all of this time.

  Christian tracked her every tiny movement. He was running on pure instinct now, waiting for the opportunity to break free of his bonds and strike. His body warred between needing her blood and needing to be inside of her. Licking another drop of her blood from his lips, his cock pulsed painfully and a surge of strength shot through him, his need for her overcoming the agony he was in. Lunging forward, he managed to free one arm from the invisible hold. With a roar of triumph, he threw himself forward again.

  The female jumped and stumbled backwards. Swallowing hard, she appeared to finally realize the danger she was in by staying there. Dropping her arms, she spun around on her heel and rushed from the room as Christian cried out after her in agony and need. She disappeared out the doorway and ran to the left. Less than a minute later, he was suddenly free to move.

  He was on her trail in a flash, following her down the hallway to a door marked “salida”. He didn’t stop when he reached it, but threw his body into and through the barrier separating him from his female.

  Blinding hot sunshine blasted him all over, and Christian screamed as he backtracked as fast as he could. Even so, small fires had erupted on his fa
ce and arms just in the short time it took him to get back inside. Acting quickly, he yanked his shirt up over his head and used it to smother the flames, then pulled the burnt cotton back down again and collapsed against the wall.

  Son of a bitch!

  He threw his head back, smashing it into the plaster behind him. He was trapped. And his female was running around in nothing but a thong and a cropped up jersey shirt with her tits practically hanging out. Anything could happen to her out there. Wherever “there” happened to be. Anyone could get a hold of her. She could be raped. Murdered.

  A surge of possessiveness hit him at the thought of any other male laying his hands on her, the feeling so strong it almost made him pass out.

  MINE.

  The thought didn’t strike him as odd from where he was standing. She was the only other being in his world at the moment. And he was hungry.

  Christian glanced towards the exit again. There was no way he could risk going back out there. Especially not in the condition he was in. He’d been starved for what…weeks? Months? He didn’t even know. Kept in that fucking room and tortured with her semi-nude form, yet unable to get to her. To smell her. To feel her.

  He hadn’t gone this long without sex since Luukas had been taken and this strange affliction had overtaken him. He fucking hated it. Hated this need he had, hated using females like he did. Hated this obsessiveness with them that distracted from everything else that was going on in his life. Important things. Like doing his job as a Hunter. If it weren’t for his fucking dick, he wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with.

  Sucking in a ragged breath, his mind veered back to the girl that was now roaming around a strange town in her stripper-wear. He’d have to go find her. As soon as the sun went down, he would go find her. Make sure she was okay, and wipe her memory of what she’d just seen. But before he did that, he would find someone else to feed on. Someone society wouldn’t miss if he became a bit overzealous.