Enslaved By the Others

Home > Other > Enslaved By the Others > Page 2
Enslaved By the Others Page 2

by Jess Haines


  I hoped my work had gone unheard. Not knowing what might be on the other side, I slowly opened the door a crack and peered through, checking for any sign of Max or his cronies.

  The small slice of the hallway I could see was empty. Emboldened, I edged out the door, taking in my surroundings.

  Like the house in upstate New York where Max had once kept me trapped, the floors were a highly polished hardwood, this time accented with a gold design that glowed by the light of intricate gas lamps. I was unnerved to see that there were numbered doorways spaced evenly up and down the hall. Many were shut, but based on the uniformity and the outer locks on most of the doors I had no doubt these were all prisons identical to the one I had just escaped. There was a carpeted staircase at one end leading up, but I couldn’t see what lay at the top. At the opposite end of the hall was a set of double doors, one open a crack, light shining through the thin gap. Both options were a long way off from where I currently stood. There were faint sounds of conversation coming from behind one or more of the doors—hard to tell which—but no one was in sight.

  Since the damp chill and stale taste to the air made me pretty certain I was underground, I headed for the stairs, hoping no one else was trapped down here. I wasn’t sure yet that I could save myself, let alone other victims Max might be exploiting.

  The staircase was curved, so I couldn’t tell how far up it went. I trod as quietly as I could, peeking around each corner before working my way up the next set of steps. Still, every whisper of my socks on the carpet, every gasped breath, sounded too loud to my own ears. I prayed no one was around to hear me.

  I approached a landing at the top of the stairs but I couldn’t see where it led. I waited, keeping quiet and still while I strained to listen for any company. It seemed clear, so I crept quietly up those last steps—and stopped.

  There was another door all right, but this one didn’t come with a lock I could pick. Next to the thick, handle-less security door was a numbered keypad. The pad had two small lights: a red one, which was blinking, and a green one, which was off. Cracking security codes has never been my forte, and I wasn’t about to risk setting off any alarms.

  The security camera staring down at me from the corner might have made my worry about alarms moot, though.

  Fuck.

  I had no way to know if I’d been spotted but, considering my luck, I was reasonably certain I was in for a world of trouble. The best I could do at this point was delay the inevitable.

  I rushed back down the stairs, taking them two at a time. The door at the other end of the hall was still open, so maybe there was another way out.

  Taking no care to be stealthy, I booked it, forcing deep, even breaths so I wouldn’t develop a stitch in my side. The doors blurred by on either side, and I could have sworn I heard crying coming from behind one of them.

  Bursting through that door was a bad, bad idea. I came to a screeching halt, nearly falling on my ass as I skidded in my socks on the smooth hardwood.

  Max and several other vampires were lounging in an expansive room full of soft pillows, Greek statuary that depicted more sexual acts than a XXX-rated movie, and a few naked men and women chained between the figures who had the glassy-eyed gazes of people drugged or too apathetic to know or care where they were. No—not just men and women. There was a golden-skinned creature vaguely similar in form to a human that hung limp, unconscious in chains, right next to a doe-eyed wood nymph. That poor creature’s leaves and bark were browning at the edges, all the flowers in its hair shuttered up tight or wilting. Dying.

  It was like a surreal art show. The people—and otherwise—were on display as much as the statues, lit by tiny, soft spotlights that highlighted every asset they had.

  One of the vampires turned to Max, a smirk curving his lips as he swirled his wineglass, the red liquid inside looking a bit too thick to be wine. His accent was a genteel Cajun drawl, somehow fitting perfectly with the unusual burgundy suit and thick dreadlocks. “You didn’t mention anything about a redhead for sale.”

  “Have you been holding out on us, Euphron?” another chimed in, rising slowly to his feet. “This one seems more lively than the others.”

  If I hadn’t already been so stunned by the contents of the room, I quite possibly would’ve been shocked immobile by the palpable interest of over a dozen—old—no, ancient—vampires locked on me. This included Max, whose steely gray eyes had widened as he sat up in the oxblood leather chair he had been lounging upon, clearly taken aback by my spectacular entrance. The weight of age in this tiny room was crushing; a football stadium would be too small to contain the power they were unconsciously radiating. It only took a few seconds for me to figure out that, whatever the hell they were doing here, obviously they now considered me part of the menu. I hastily backed up, using my arms to cover as much of myself as I could, while Max schooled his own features into a passably blank expression.

  “Of course,” Max said, his smooth voice carrying only the tiniest hint of irritation as he eased back in his seat and nodded in my direction, “I had not intended to showcase her so soon, though I don’t suppose there’s any harm in it. She is newly arrived, and has not been groomed properly for servitude yet. I doubt you would be interested in one so fresh, Kyle.”

  I skittered back, but a guard who had been standing to one side of the door barred my escape and I backed right into him. He laughed at how I jumped at the unexpected contact before giving me a little shove in Max’s direction. I pivoted and darted to the side so I could press against the wall instead.

  No weapons, no way out, and surrounded by vampires. I was on the verge of hyperventilating, and Max didn’t seem keen on stopping the guy he’d addressed as Kyle from approaching me.

  This new vampire was well dressed in a tailored I-make-a-thousand-dollar-suit-look-like-cheap-trash way. He set aside a cane with a freaky demon-looking thing crouching on top with what I would swear were real diamonds for eyes before approaching me. The power of his mien paled to the invasive metaphysical touch that brushed over my skin, tasting some intangible part of me and making me want a piece of sandpaper, a pumice stone, and the world’s hottest shower to scrub the feel of it off of me. His manicured nails were blunt, shining as brightly as that whiter-than-white smile when he ran a smooth fingertip over my cheek, the other hand lifting to toy with one of my bra straps. I flinched and batted his hands away before twisting aside and putting some much-needed distance between us.

  “Mm, perhaps you’re right. Aside from being fresh, she’s got facial scars. I do hope you weren’t intending on offering damaged goods.”

  Though I wasn’t often hung up about my looks, his comment sent my hand flying to my lower lip in reflex. I often did my best to forget about the scar left behind when Peter bit me, nearly tearing my lip in half in the process of assaulting me.

  Another vampire spoke up, his tone dripping disdain. “Look how scrawny she is. No meat on her where there should be. And that skin of hers is a wreck—the mark on her face is not the only one I see.”

  And another. “This one is disappointing, Euphron. Very disappointing.”

  Scowling, I dropped my hand away and balled my fingers into tight fists of rage at my side, finding the condescending laughter of the others in the room too much to bear. Max started speaking but I cut him off, shouting loudly enough for most everyone to flinch.

  “I’m not a fucking pet, I’m not your fucking plaything, and who gives a flying fuck if I’m scarred? Ask Max how it happened. I got it while I was busy killing one of your own, you fucking leeches.”

  Stunned silence followed my pronouncement, and I took advantage of the moment to dive for the door again, shoving the surprised guard out of my way.

  “Stop.”

  The word was quiet but forceful. Every muscle in my body went rigid and I found I couldn’t move.

  “Come here.”

  The other vampires watched with interest as I turned around, breaking out in a cold sweat as I fo
ught the command. I managed to hold out until I made the mistake of meeting Max’s eyes. Though I didn’t want to do it, one foot lifted, then the other, bringing me closer to him. After three steps, I was back in the room—and found at that point that I could stop, though I couldn’t withstand the power of his spell enough to run again.

  “Extraordinary,” commented another vampire that had been quiet up until now, his fangs glinting as he favored me with a wolfish grin. “I do believe this one doesn’t care for you, Euphron.”

  A few of the others seemed to find this funny, smirking or making wry comments of their own. Catty bastards. Max frowned, but didn’t push for me to come any closer. The other vampires had their attention locked on me, but my world had narrowed down to shoring up my steadily eroding will, and maintaining the precious few yards that separated us. Every muscle in my body was twitching with the strain of being locked in place so I wouldn’t move any closer to him; it was painful to stay where I was, but I fought the urge to close the distance between us with every last shred of self-control I had left.

  “As I said,” Max addressed Kyle, though he kept his gaze locked on mine, “she is newly arrived. She may not be a pretty showpiece, but her looks are not what makes her desirable.”

  Despite myself, a hot flush of embarrassment warmed my skin, no doubt reddening my cheeks. He might as well have called me an ugly cow—and no woman, no matter who says it or how true a statement it might be, likes to hear that she’s unattractive.

  “This is Rhathos’s little pet hunter.”

  The vampires gave a collective intake of hissing breaths. Max’s satisfaction with the statement was undeniable, as was the sudden, intense flare of interest from the rest of his guests.

  “Better yet,” he added, “she has not been permanently bound.”

  The man in the burgundy suit came close enough to press a calloused fingertip under my chin, tilting my head up so he could peer into my eyes. His own flashed a dull red that matched his suit, burning deep down in those sloe eyes, but they held no draw for me. I would’ve pulled away if I could have, but I was still locked in paralysis from Max’s command.

  “Fascinating,” he said, brows lowering as he regarded me with a curious, puzzled expression. “I do wonder how you managed to get your hands on such a prize piece. Better, how you intend to capitalize upon such a windfall.”

  “Name a price,” said Kyle, withdrawing a cell phone that looked like it might double as a tiny laptop. It didn’t take me long to figure out he was using it to pull up a banking program to transfer funds. Great.

  Max shook his head, holding his hand out to me. I couldn’t help stiffly edging over to his side, taking his hand, and letting him pull me into his lap. Not content to have me on the edge of his knee, he snaked his arm around my waist and tugged until my back was pressed against his chest, his other hand lightly twined with mine. A clear message for the others: I was his possession for the time being. I would’ve gladly disproven any assumptions that I was anybody’s property, but my body wasn’t in a cooperative mood.

  “No sale. I’m not prepared to release her to another yet.”

  Oh, wasn’t that just darling. I wondered when he would be “prepared” and just what made me so valuable in the eyes of these vampires. Worse, what Max thought he could wring out of me before he turned me over to someone else.

  “Pity, Euphron,” said the one who had earlier been busy toying with his wineglass. “I wouldn’t mind getting a taste of that one. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to part with her for a night?”

  My stomach plummeted. Max waited so long to answer I nearly passed out from holding my breath.

  “I’ll consider it,” was the dismissive reply.

  Talk turned to how he had gotten his hands on me, and his estimate as to how long it would take to make me tractable. It wasn’t a question of if, or how, but when.

  Something about his hold had left me unable to speak. It didn’t stop the helpless tears or the sick feeling twisting my stomach in knots as they calmly discussed my fate. Max assured the others that he would “personally” see to my “education,” whatever the hell that meant, and that he had no intention of wasting this opportunity.

  If I had to go down I’d do my best to take him with me. That was the only consolation I had to keep from going utterly mad in his arms while they talked about destroying everything that made me ... me.

  After awhile, the talk turned back to the people chained between the statues. My fear and impotent fury grew when I realized they were here to be auctioned off to the highest bidder and that Max was selling them for hundreds of thousands of dollars apiece—and the ones with Other blood for even more. Some of the “assets” that prompted the vampires to drop more money included quirks of lineage, artistic skill, and, in one case, a gift with languages. All of my fellow humans, I was irritated to note, were smarter, more talented, and better-looking than me. Though I wasn’t sure I should be so thrilled about that, considering Max had alluded to putting me up on the auction block at some point.

  It felt like a long time before the vampires were done. Max’s fingers occasionally shifted, making my muscles seize up in renewed terror, though I couldn’t withdraw from his touch. He never strayed toward inappropriate territory, but the constant reminders that I was trapped and helpless was doing plenty to fray my nerves to the breaking point. I figured out before long that he was doing it on purpose to rattle me. A silent reprimand that no doubt would be followed by something worse once he was done dealing with his guests.

  Their chatter shifted to talk of politics and investments. I made mental notes of incriminating mentions of their names and businesses on the off-chance I might get out of there someday. Never mind the lack of a retainer fee. Hunting down each and every one of these sick fucks pro bono, as a favor to the rest of humanity, would be my pleasure. Focusing on a future that might never come was better than pondering what Max might be planning to do to me as soon as this meeting was over.

  While they discussed their business, one by one, the people were freed from their chains. Half a dozen men entered to usher them back to the rooms in the hall. The newcomers were all dressed in suits much like the ones Max’s men wore the day I was kidnapped off the street, back when I had met him the first time. The rapid, efficient way his people moved gave me the sneaking suspicion that this human trafficking business was something they did often.

  Worse, none of the captives spoke a word or did a thing to struggle for their freedom. They moved where they were bid, but slowly, further cementing my suspicions that they were drugged. Please, God, don’t let them be so broken that they couldn’t fight for their freedom anymore.

  Don’t let that be me someday.

  Chapter Three

  Some time later, Max pushed me off his lap so he could stand to see the other vampires out. Once they were gone, escorted by the security guards to their rooms or to pick up their “purchases,” he turned to me. I still couldn’t move. Though I strained every muscle to back away, I couldn’t retreat or even cry out as he closed the distance between us. Instead of touching, he circled me, shark-like, considering before speaking. All I could do was stand there and tremble, following him with my eyes.

  “How did you get out?”

  The words spilled out before I could stop myself. “Picked the lock.”

  A casual, backhanded slap sent me tumbling to my hands and knees on the floor, blood dribbling between my lips. Max absently licked his knuckles, tasting my blood. He paused, glancing at the smear on his hand with a frown before narrowed eyes refocused on me.

  “You disobeyed me, pet. I told you to calm yourself and consider your options. Are you so eager to be given to another?”

  Something inside my head loosened; I recognized that feeling. It was him retracting his mental claws long enough to allow me to answer him without forced compulsion.

  “Fuck you.” I spat, getting blood on his gold-tasseled loafers. He tsked.

  “I sup
pose I should be glad of your interruption. I do believe Kyle has taken a new interest in my stock. Thank whatever gods you pray to, girl. Your punishment will be easier for it.”

  I closed my eyes and rested my brow on the floor, unable to reply. His fingers knotted in my hair, dragging me up to my feet. At the last possible moment, I straightened my legs and threw everything I had into punching him in the jaw.

  It was like striking iron. My knuckles and wrist ached from the impact. For his part, Max flinched—which was satisfying—but that was all.

  Well, not all. His eyes narrowed, and a hint of red came to his pupils, his fangs peeking out between his lips as he spoke. “My. You do like walking the hard road, don’t you?”

  Before I could retort, he had me twisted around so my back was cradled against his chest, and he had my wrists pinned at my stomach with one hand. The other was at my throat, his thumb digging under my jaw to force me to tilt my head to the side and expose my jugular. His fangs scraped over my skin, and a scream was dragged out of me as I struggled vainly against his hold.

  “Ah, yes, I remember now. This is what you fear, is it not?”

  My only answer was to increase my helpless squirming, a thin sound of pain and terror dying in my throat.

  “Well then, pet, since you’re not much impressed by pain, perhaps this will deter you.” His cool lips trailed upward, rubbing against my skin like melting ice until they brushed against my earlobe to whisper his threat. “Every time you disobey me, I will bite you. Make no mistake, the last time I did so was in haste. From now on I will make every effort to make it last. Each ... and every . . . time.”

  As those last words trailed off, he struck, his fangs piercing my skin so quickly and cleanly that all I felt was pressure, not pain. Then, whatever the hell it is in vampire saliva that makes it feel good kicked in—and this time I was writhing against his hold for a totally different, far more shameful reason.

 

‹ Prev