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Possessed by a Vampire

Page 4

by Susan Griscom


  I grabbed my coat, shrugging my arms back into it as I stepped toward Dorian when he came into my room, then placed my hand on his Kiton suit-clad chest as I gently shoved him back out the door. Luckily, I’d had the good sense to wear a cocktail dress to the club tonight, so I didn’t need to change for Dorian’s engagement.

  “I’ve been waiting for you, Dorian,” I said and then walked straight down the hall to the limo outside. I held my breath the entire way, not releasing it until he joined me inside the car and smiled at me, seemingly delighted at my feigned excitement at going to yet another chamber of commerce gala with too much alcohol and too many handsy men.

  Two blocks into our ride, Dorian asked Jace to stop the car at a mini-mart.

  “I want to get some smokes,” he said as he left the car. I hated when he smoked. It was a good thing that the nicotine didn’t bother vampires, or Dorian would have died from lung cancer years ago.

  I needed to pull myself together. That had been too close. I’d almost been caught returning from the club and I needed a few minutes to collect myself. Preston had been magnificent. I loved that he’d taken my suggestion to heart and didn’t perform an Elvis song first tonight. I knew he probably would in the second half of the show because that was his act. Everyone expected it. Everyone wanted it. I loved watching him perform, even when he was performing Elvis. But there was a part of me that wanted to see the real man inside. Elvis was an act, someone his friends told him he should be, and, unfortunately, I think the real Preston Knight became lost somewhere along the way. I was glad that I had gotten to see the real man behind the dark shades before I had to leave.

  I needed a few minutes alone without Jace, so I decided to take advantage of the situation and pulled out a tube of lip gloss from the pocket of my coat before I stepped out of the car behind Dorian. He stopped, immediately catching my wrist with his hand. His grip was too tight and I winched from the pain, but he didn’t let up.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Just to the restroom. I forgot to put some lip gloss on.” I held up the tube as I straightened. “Don’t be long. I don’t want to be late.”

  “It’ll just take a second, I promise.” He released me and I hurried to the bathroom before he could argue with me. We were in a public place, and I knew he wouldn’t use force on me when there was the possibility of witnesses. I stood at the small sink, dabbing a damp paper towel on my face and neck. The close call of almost getting caught had made my skin hot and clammy. I gave my cheeks one last pat with the towel, took a deep breath, exhaling slowly to calm my nerves, and headed back to the limo and luck was on my side as Dorian hadn’t returned yet. The last thing I needed was him getting angry with me because I took too long in the restroom.

  When Dorian re-entered the car, he sank back against the luxurious black leather of the limo’s back seat and put his arm around me, pulling me against him. He had his long, black hair pulled away from his handsome face in a tight, neat ponytail that gave him the distinguished and prominent businessman image I was sure he was going for. It accentuated his chiseled jaw and was a change from his usual carefree style with his dark curls flowing down over his ears to his neck. He smelled of lavender and licorice—a nauseating combination—that made me gag on more than one occasion. Sitting in the back of the car was at least quiet and peaceful; a break from the constant party that seemed to follow Dorian around like a lost puppy. I’d actually been looking forward to the gala tonight. Going out to a party meant there wouldn’t be a crazy orgy in the middle of the living room for once. After all, if Dorian wasn’t there, there was no party.

  “Babe, what’s wrong?” I hated when he called me cute little nicknames. I wasn’t his babe, nor would I ever be. I was simply a stand-in, a ruse to hide what he really was. “Why were you in such a hurry to leave tonight when I entered your room?” Dorian asked as he opened the mini fridge in the limo and pulled out two bags of blood. I shrugged, not wanting to fabricate another lie. He handed one of the bags to me, and I took it. Then he passed me a small straw that I poked through the tiny hole at the top of the bag. I didn’t want to answer him so I just began sipping down the blood. “I’m sorry I was so late.” He gently skimmed his finger down my cheek in a very un-Dorian-like manner, and I wanted to vomit at his touch, his false actions of affection made me sick. “Were you waiting long for me?”

  I shook my head. “Not very long.”

  This was his way of consoling me so I’d perform admirably for him tonight; pretending to be the adoring wife Dorian thought he needed to prove he was a loving family man to all his business partners and supporters. He’d prance around with me on his arm, feigning his love. Maybe he was in love with me in some twisted fashion, but I was more of a possession. His love was hard and demented, and his vampiric life’s ambitions were twisted. With Dorian, it was all about the money and his investments—right or wrong. He didn’t care whom he stepped on along the way, and he didn’t look back. Though most times I felt like a prisoner, he did take care of me—in his own demented way. I had a roof over my head, and blood to sustain me most days. This was my life, my destiny. I’d accepted it long ago. Though, lately, after spending time with Preston, I was reminded once again how Dorian’s ways were not normal.

  The thought of Preston made me yearn for my freedom, and I rested my head on the back of the seat and closed my eyes, wishing things were different. Preston and I weren’t a couple, though our desires for each other were strong. I had to fight mine constantly.

  “Hey, you look sad. Did something happen tonight?” Dorian asked sweetly, breaking me out of my reverie. He came off so nice, a part of me wanted to tell him about Preston, except I knew his sugar was coated with venom.

  “No. I’m fine. I just wish you’d gotten home a bit earlier,” I lied.

  He chuckled. “Anxious for a night out on the town?”

  I nodded and smiled. Better he think I was excited about being out with him. My life was safer if he thought I enjoyed these events, giving the public a false sense of what type of man he actually was. I didn’t like being out with Dorian, but I had no other options. I had to keep pretending, or I’d lose the one person who mattered more to me than my own life. I was in this for one reason: to free Julian. Dorian kept me for two things: public appearances, and because he knew he could get me to do practically anything as long as he held my brother captive.

  One of the perks of being a vampire was the ability to shut down my mind and emotions. I could do this for Julian, even if I had to be a slave to the most powerful drug and human/vampire trafficking lord in San Francisco.

  Chapter Five

  Elvis, aka Preston

  Lily was gone. Dammit. Gage followed my gaze as I stared at the empty seat in the audience. As I strapped on my guitar, he clapped me on the back. “Better luck next time, bro.” Then he headed to the drums and sat on the stool. Picking up the sticks, he tapped them three times on the side of the bass drum, indicating the start of a song. I struck the first chord of Jail House Rock and went through the motions. When the song ended, I stepped back away from the microphone and let Lane take over. I was done.

  Why did Lily keep putting me off? What kept her from being with me? There had to be something else going on in her life. But what? Shit, was she seeing someone else? But why would she keep meeting me, kissing me, acting as though she wanted to be with me, yet holding out? Maybe their relationship was on the rocks and she was scared to leave or afraid to take that final step to freedom. Maybe she just got out of a bad relationship and now she was afraid to try again. Fuck. Lily had to be involved with someone else. I only wished she’d be truthful with me. But my guess was that it was someone not to be tested or trusted. That was the vibe I got. I knew we weren’t actually dating, even though I liked to think we were. We’d only kissed a couple of times. I’d hoped she’d come to her senses and leave whoever he was so she would be free to be with me, but I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries and push her—even though
I sensed that her relationship with whomever she was with wasn’t exactly a bed of roses. There had never been a woman whose mere presence excited me as Lily’s did. I’d almost forgotten how to be civil to a proper woman, since most of the women Gage and I brought home were sluts, for lack of a better term, begging for a good-time fuck. The vampires were the worst. But Lily was smart and beautiful. Any well-respected vampire would be proud to bring her home to meet Mom. Except, whatever Lily was involved in, whomever she was involved with, she didn’t want me to know about it, and I hoped she had a really good reason for not sharing.

  At the end of the night, I left the club and headed home. I was in no mood to stay and mingle with a bunch of grabby women—vampire or human—I had no interest in.

  The mansion was quiet when I entered via the back door. Even the help was gone. They only worked in the daytime while we slept, leaving Ari, our human confidante, to deal with them. I strolled through the kitchen, noticing that the dark, Italian marble floor gleamed from a recent buffing. Vicious, Chelle’s puppy, came barreling through the opened double doors of the state-of-the-art kitchen and slid across the polished tile on her belly, nose-diving into my feet. Her long tail wagged with a soft thumping sound against the floor as her tongue lapped at my hands when I bent down to rub her tummy as she lay on her side. She was getting big.

  “Hey, girl. What’s ya doing? You lonely left here all by yourself?”

  “She’s not alone.” My head jerked up at the sound of Chelle’s voice. “Josh and I are here.”

  “Ah. Yes. Now I remember not seeing you at the club.”

  “What are you doing home so early?” she asked. Her multi-colored, short crop of hair stuck up as if she’d just been fucked, and I smiled and shrugged in response.

  “Didn’t feel much like partying tonight.” I glanced at Josh, whose hair was just as messy. “Sorry if I interrupted you two.” I patted Vicious on the back, indicating that she should get up because I was finished rubbing her tummy. Walking to the fridge, I reached in and grabbed a couple of bags of blood and handed one to Chelle.

  “Thanks.” She grinned and looked at Josh. “No worries. We’re good. I was just coming in here for this.” Chelle took the package and opened it, sucking the red liquid into her mouth.

  Josh made a disgusted face and grabbed a beer from the fridge. “Anybody want one?”

  “Yeah. I’ll have one.” I drained the rest of the blood from the plastic and threw the bag in the trash, then took the beer Josh held out for me. “Thanks, man.”

  I left the couple in the kitchen right after Josh sat on one of the chairs around the table and Chelle crawled up onto his lap. Not that it bothered me or anything, I just wanted some alone time. I had a feeling that the rest of the gang would be coming home soon, and I didn’t want to be where I could be found. It never failed . . . as a family unit, when one of us was miserable, everyone wanted to help. And I didn’t feel much like sharing my misery with that sort of bonding tonight.

  I was still warm from the performance, so I shrugged off my jacket and shirt before walking out onto the veranda. The cool ocean breeze licked my nipples, and they hardened almost instantly from the chill. It was a clear night, and I could see all the way across the bay to the hills behind Tiburon. The city lights twinkled and the quarter moon sat high in the night sky surrounded by clusters of stars. My eyes widened at the sight of a shooting star. If I believed in fairytales, I’d have made a wish. Which made me think of Lily.

  I polished off the last of the beer and headed back inside. Grabbing my shirt and jacket, I shrugged them back on and de-materialized.

  I reappeared down in the Tenderloin district. I knew I was grasping at straws, but I wanted to see Lily so badly my chest hurt. I could only hope she’d come by. Unfortunately, there was no sign of Lily at The I.V., so I strolled down the street a short distance and thought about taking in some more nourishment. It had been a grueling, hot night on stage, and because I didn’t know if I’d get to spend any time with Lily tonight, I was a bit depressed. Nothing like a little fresh blood to boost my spirits.

  The only problem was, I didn’t run across anyone who looked appetizing enough out there on the street. I stopped walking when I reached the front of an old movie theater. Why not? I went to the ticket booth and bought a ticket. I didn’t even look to see what was playing. The theater was old and small, with only one screening room. Not like those giant, multiplex cinemas with fourteen or more screens boasting IMAX and 3D features these days.

  I strolled down the aisle of the dark theater, passing row after row of vacant seats. The movie was already playing—the original Star Wars. There were a man and a woman sitting up front, but I didn’t want to disturb them. Plus, they were too close to the screen, and I didn’t want any witnesses from behind. I turned to look at the back of the theater again and saw her: a lone woman sitting in the back row, chomping on the contents of a bucket of popcorn. I headed toward her. The closer I got, I saw that she was about mid-forties with a pretty face, long red curls flowing over her shoulders. But I was only interested in her blood. Lily was still too much on my mind to want anything more. As I sat down next to the woman, she glanced over at me, concern igniting a spark behind her eyes, but I managed to capture her gaze with mine and held her attention as I smiled, silently willing her to like me. The silent compulsion flowed into her mind. I had a talent for compelling humans that way and it came in handy in places like these.

  “Great movie,” I whispered. “May I?” I asked, holding my hand over the bucket she held. When she nodded, I dipped my hand into her popcorn and grabbed a small handful. Tossing several kernels into my mouth, I chomped them down and then leaned into her, whispering close to her ear. “First time?”

  “Huh?” She frowned and looked at me in question.

  “The movie.” I gestured toward the screen and inched a bit closer to her. “First time seeing this?”

  She laughed. “Heavens, no. I saw this movie the day it came out. I was five years old. I’ve seen it at least twenty times since, maybe more.”

  “Ah.” I nodded. “Me, too.” I smiled and slipped my fingers into her shoulder-length, red hair, swishing it away from her neck. Her vein throbbed as she sat watching Han Solo switch the Millennium Falcon into hyperspeed.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Judy.”

  “I’m going to taste you now Is that okay, Judy?”

  “Yes. I would like that.”

  “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

  “Okay. That’s good.”

  Without further ado, I sank my fangs into her vein but froze after tasting her. This didn’t feel right. My mind drifted to the beautiful whiskey laced eyes I wanted to be gazing into. I pulled back and gently slid my tongue over the small puncture wounds I’d made, not ingesting any more of her blood.

  I sat back and sighed.

  “Thanks, Judy. You won’t remember any of this.”

  “Okay. And you’re welcome.” She smiled at me.

  I picked up her hand and pressed my lips against her knuckles. “Again, thank you very much,” I said as I stood and walked out of the theater, leaving her there, focusing on the movie.

  I wished I knew where Lily was.

  Chapter Six

  Lily

  Daylight had begun to illuminate the sky, but the shades in my room at Dorian’s high-rise building hadn’t begun to close yet. This was just one of several buildings Dorian owned around the city and a few more were still under construction.

  This grand suite took up the entire top level with hardwood floors throughout, expensive vintage area rugs strewn around the space, and soft, plush, dark red leather furniture in the living area. There were gorgeous views of the city from every room. He owned the entire building, and most of his minions had apartments of their own at various levels. My bedroom—yes, I had my own room; though at times it felt more like a prison—was done in dark, cherry wood with rich red drapes and a plush, velvet bedspread. It l
ooked more like a whore’s boudoir than a place for sleeping, but that was how Dorian wanted it. The theme was pretty consistent throughout the suite, though; most every room had the same type of décor.

  “Dorian, didn’t you change the time of the shades to daylight savings last night?”

  He glanced at me for a brief second then back at the rolling, brass cart he’d had brought into my room for the evening. Picking up a decanter half filled with brandy, he poured the golden brown liquor into two dainty cordial glasses. When he didn’t answer me, I added, “You know, spring ahead or fall back, depending on the season? This is fall. You should have adjusted the timer for the shades to close an hour earlier.”

  “Right. I’ll get on that in a moment, my sweet, but first, I have a surprise for you.” He wore black silk lounge pants and no shirt, showing off his chiseled chest and abs and smooth skin. The tattoo of a pocket watch covering his left breast reminded me of a warning that he might blow up as time ticked on. Though, I knew it was to represent the passage of his time on earth, which was, as far as I knew, several centuries by now. If he were a decent man, I’d almost find him sexy.

  “Please, shut them now, Dorian,” I begged. “I don’t want to have to hide under the bed for the next hour, or wake to have all my energy drained from my body, rendering me helpless when the sun blares in here.” He didn’t seem to be concerned at all, and that worried me. For all I knew, he’d leave me in this room alone all day with the shades up and the sun blaring in.

  “Fuck. You worry too much. But, okay.” He strolled to the little electric timer switch on the wall by the door. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small key and unlocked the lid, flipping it open. He placed his finger on one of the buttons and then shut and relocked the lid. The shades slid closed, and I sighed with relief. I hated that he locked that lid.

 

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