Blood Slave
Page 31
Page 31
I vibrated, bounced, shaking with need. Oh God, he was so close. I could feel his bite in my neck, the sting of his tiny, little needle point fangs, how wonderful it would be in his arms again. All my problems would be solved, all the pain and suffering washed away. All I needed was Enrique. Nothing could keep us apart this side of death.
‘Ding’, the elevator chimed and I shot out onto the landing like a rocket heading into orbit. I hit the front door to the penthouse, bouncing off when I couldn’t slow down. I punched in the door code over and over until the electronic locks clicked open. I knew exactly where to find him – his office.
I slipped and slid on the polished hardwood floors as I raced to him. Slamming through his office door, I saw him. Beautiful, dashing, and debonair as ever. He caught me up in that inhumanly powerful embrace. Finally.
After forty-eight hours of hell, I was home. Against all odds I had made it back. Like the cat from that creepy little song, “Hope came back. We thought she was a goner, but Hope came back. She just couldn’t stay away. ”
Enrique’s face was grim. I didn’t care. He could scowl at me all he wanted. I was elated to be home, nothing else mattered. He started to ask, “What the hell happened …”
I interrupted him, gasping to catch my breath. “Bite me now!”
He frowned deeply, but complied, latching onto my black and blue, bruised neck with those wonderful little razor-sharp fangs. Heavenly euphoria. All the pain, worry, fear, degradation, anxiety washed away in a tsunami of euphoria. “Oh God I love you so much. ” I blathered as I melted into his embrace in sublime happiness.
He gave me a moment to collect myself and then the questions started. “What happened Hope? Who did this to you? Where have you been?”
I started to regain some vestige of my sanity, but I could hardly figure out where to begin. “Arana … he … beat me … raped me … I was tied up. It was Lia! She did it!” I didn’t make much sense.
“What’s all this business about Arana? What does Lia have to do with it? She said you left her at the Blue Smoke!”
“It was Lia! She called Arana. She set me up! He’s one of Faustino’s Traquetos. He tried to kill me, but Lia set it all up. She’s lying to you!”
At the point I’d caught my breath, clear-headed enough to speak coherently, I picked up on Lia’s thoughts. She was nearby and coming in fast. By the time I read her intentions, she’d made it through the office door. She had her tiny little twenty-two pistol in one hand, and a huge chef’s knife in the other. She stood five feet away, pistol aimed at the back of Enrique’s head.
She wanted to kill me. Enrique’s authority blocked her. The only option left was to kill him. I heard her click the trigger and I screamed, “No!” as I shoved Enrique down.
Wired on adrenaline and high on venom, I guess I’m a little stronger than I thought. Enrique went flying across the room sprawled on his back. Her first shot missed, but she adjusted her aim and fired over and over. I saw one shot nail him in the shoulder before I hit her screaming at the top of my lungs in rage. Without thinking, I had tackled Lia. We both went down in a tumble, her gun sliding across the floor. I couldn’t think of anything but stopping her. I couldn’t let her take Enrique from me. I just got him back. I couldn’t lose him, not to her, not like this.
We grappled, spinning and flopping. I rolled to the top position, punched her in the nose, and went for her eyes. Then I felt something cold and sharp cut into my belly, the chef knife. I grabbed her wrist to stop her, but she was so damn strong. That little Asian psycho was stronger than a man. I couldn’t stop her. That huge knife plunged in and out, over and over, fast and mechanical like the needle of a monstrous sewing machine.
Then all of a sudden I was up and flying through the air backwards, snatched up from behind. I landed on my back, my head crunched against the steel file cabinet. A real bell ringer. My vision blurred, doubled, wouldn’t focus. I saw a shadowy blur of Enrique and Lia grappling on the floor. I tried to get up. The world tilted and spun. Game over for me. I collapsed, my vision turned black. My life bled out onto the beautiful, custom hardwood floors as I passed out.
* * * *
Chapter 22
I dreamt of Enrique, of being in his arms, bitten over and over. My dreams vacillated between scenes of wonderful ecstasy and periods of agony. My whole body ached and throbbed, and my guts burned as though branded with an iron. I’d press a button and the pain would die down, but it was ever present beneath the surface, lurking, waiting to return as soon as the button medicine wore off. Enrique disappeared for hours at a time, and then he was there, biting me, holding me, whispering to me.
I dreamt of Arana and Lia, nightmares. They chased me. Arana’s eye sockets were vacant gaping wounds, lidless. He caught up to me and held me down. Lia came and stabbed me in the belly with her knife, over and over. In other nightmares Lia had me tied down, waiting for Arana to come back and beat me again. Maybe he’d kill me this time. I struggled with the cords wrapped around me, and then a woman appeared, trying to calm me down. I begged her to untie me, to let me go. I told her Arana’s coming, he’ll kill us both if I don’t get away. I told her help me find Enrique. She assured me everything was fine, and then she pressed the magic button. The pain and anxiety drifted away.
Mostly I dreamt of Enrique. I told him how much I loved him, how much I missed him. He’d hold me. He kissed me where it hurt and the pain went away. When he left I missed him endlessly. The man was everything to me. I couldn’t imagine my world without him.
I awoke one day in a hospital bed in my room. The couch had been removed. The new bed took its place. I felt groggy-drugged, morphine or some other opiate pain killer. At the edge of my thoughts floated some vague anxiety related to something vitally important. It nagged at me, something unresolved. I couldn’t focus, but it pressed at the edge of my awareness.
I tried to recall the issue, something about Enrique? I had to tell him something … about … what? What was I supposed to tell him? And where was he? I could sense him nearby in the penthouse, in his bedroom. Why wasn’t I in the bedroom with him?
The past filtered into my consciousness piecemeal, Lia, Arana, rape, torture, escape with Conchita, the fight with Arana, all the way back here to the penthouse. Lia! Lia wanted me dead! She wanted to kill us both!
I sat up in bed. The world spun and then slowly righted itself. My heart rate jumped up, the monitor beeped double-time. I had to get to Enrique, had to stop Lia. I tried to get out of bed, but the monitoring wires and IV’s had me tied up. I ripped them off, tossing it all on the floor. A woman barged into the room wearing a nurse’s smock, the woman I had dreamt about, my nurse.
“What are you doing?” She ran up to me and grabbed on to my arm. She tried to push me back onto the bed.
“I have to get to Enrique!” I growled at her. “Get out of my way!”
“He’ll be in at seven. You need to get back in bed!” She wouldn’t back off and tried to push me again.
“You don’t understand!” I shoved her back and headed for the door.
She grabbed my hand. “You need to take it easy, calm down. ” I back-handed her with a whip crack of my left hand. She went flying and hit the floor with a smack-thud sound.
“Leave me alone!” I screamed.
Lia might be coming any minute now. She could be anywhere. I ran out of the room into the hallway. I knew where to find Enrique, but I couldn’t go to him unarmed. The bitch was too strong to take on without a weapon. I had to protect Enrique. I found a brass lamp, tore off the lampshade and hefted its solid weight in my hand. It felt like a good five pounds, might do the trick.
Then I remembered her knife. That’s what I needed, a knife! My turn to cut into that bitch. See how she likes it. As soon as I thought of it I pulled up my hospital gown to look at my stomach. There were bandages wrapped around my torso.
“Ha! Thought you killed
me! I’m not so easy to kill, bitch!” I smiled, something like that wicked fat cat from Alice in Wonderland, a Cheshire cat grin.
I found the block of knives in the kitchen, the large chef knife missing. The bitch still had it. I grabbed the next largest knife, a wicked seven inch blade.
I made my way to Enrique’s room, watching and listening carefully, scanning everywhere for any sign of someone in hiding. In his room with the door locked closed behind me, my exhaustion set in. I wanted to lie down and sleep right there on the spot. His room was pitch black, not a hint or speck of light. I groped for the light switch, lamp and knife held ready. Nothing moved, the room was dead silent. Enrique lay in bed asleep, alone.
After a moment of utter silence I slinked around the room, checking everything, the walk-in closet, under the chairs, the bathroom and shower stall. I checked every nook and cranny that might possibly hide a five foot tall Asian vampire cunt from hell. She wasn’t there. I imagine I looked pretty wild in my open-backed hospital gown creeping around with a brass lamp and a knife.
I decided the room was secure, so I might as well barricade us in. I had a steady burn in my gut and my bandages turned red by the time I finished moving the heavy oak dresser in front of the door. As I threw the dead bolt on the door, it occurred to me how weird that was. Who the hell has dead bolts on bedroom doors? Fucking vampires.
Enrique was totally out, in that dead-like comatose sleep. His body felt cool to the touch. I couldn’t really tell if he was alive apart from an ever so slight air flow out of his mouth. He still breathed, he must be okay. It seemed like there was the faintest heartbeat when I put my ear to his chest.
God he was such a beautiful man. He looked flawless, a sleeping beauty of dark hair, pale white skin, and neatly trimmed black goatee. I loved looking at him. But I was so tired, and my belly hurt, and I just couldn’t stay awake no matter how hard I tried. It occurred to me, if Enrique slept for the day …. then so did Lia. Nothing to worry about.
I awoke to Enrique’s hand on my forehead, a concerned look in his eyes. He was saying something, I caught pieces of it. “. . . should be in your bed …. where’s your nurse? . . . ”