“I will also respectfully decline.” She shut her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck. It was tense, and the knot there was threatening to give her a headache. He was not helping the tightness.
“Remove your hair pins.”
“What?” She looked to him and furrowed her brow. “Why?”
“I prefer your hair down.” He paused. “Please.”
Maxine swallowed thickly and did not move. She glanced to the rest of the people in the restaurant but remembered they cared nothing for what she said or did. If she stood atop the table and screamed for help, they would carry on blissfully aware.
“You hesitate. Why? You have already touched my hand twice so far at my request.”
“Yes, for my own curiosity’s sake. This is different.” She kept her gaze averted from him. “I am of the distinct impression, Count Dracula, that you are not the kind to give up an inch once it has been given.”
“You will call me Vlad.” He chuckled darkly, pleased, and reached out to touch her cheek and turn her face back to him. She jolted at the contact. She was not accustomed to it, and it was jarring each time. “I returned you to your bed unharmed. I had you in my grasp. I had your lips against mine. I could have taken you, yet I did not. Why do I then let you roam free now? Why do I sit to converse with you? I could have you on your knees.” He grazed the tips of his sharp nails over her skin, and she shuddered in response. She knew she was blushing by the warmth that washed over her. “And such a beautiful sight that will be, my Lady of Souls.”
Her blush deepened, and she pulled away from him. “I do not know the reason behind your actions.”
“Because as you said, fealty by terror is a fragile leash. I do not want to break your knees—I want you to bend them. I want you to kneel of your own accord.”
“And why would I be inspired to do anything of the sort?”
“Because you wish it.”
She pulled out of his grasp. “No. I do not.”
“Are you so certain?”
“I am.” She paused. “We could trade. My life for the life of this city.”
He seemed intrigued by that. He watched her curiously, ponderously, then shook his head. “No. You would hold it against me all the same. You would bemoan my cruelty in time, claiming the only reason you succumbed to me was under duress. No, my darling. You are drawn to me, Maxine. In time, I will have you.”
“My blood and my body, very well. I admit those might be inevitable. I have never known a man, and you have a distinct advantage in your unique ability to touch me. But—”
“Is that the only reason you desire me? Oh, Maxine, again you lie to me.” He tsked, smiling wickedly at her.
She continued as if he hadn’t interrupted her. “But do you think you can win my heart? My soul? Do you think honestly believe you can if I choose not to give them?”
“You will offer them to me in time.”
“I am not so certain. You threaten the lives of everyone in this city. Thousands of lives. I have felt what it is to die, Vlad. I do not think you understand how deeply I wish to prevent this fate for others, especially if I can help it. I want to know you, Vlad Tepes Dracula. I wish to understand you. But I cannot do so while you plan to murder thousands.”
“I seek to feed my wolves. Do you bemoan for the fish you have eaten? Do you weep for their families? You are short-sighted. You think mortal lives to be valued higher than the rest. Humanity is a plague upon this Earth, and culling a few thousand is a paltry thing. You will continue to spread, to eat, to destroy, until this world has shrunk and there is not enough for any of you. I am doing you all a service.”
“Horrifyingly enough, I think you believe what you say.”
“I do.”
“And what happens when you are done feeding your wolves, and the livestock in the city are all dead? When you have made a metropolis of ruins, what then?”
“I will leave.”
“And will you leave me here in the tomb you have made? An empty corpse? Tell me what you would have me be to you in this world of bones and ash you would wreak upon this city. Speak to me of why you desire all this from me, and perhaps I will listen.”
“No. Not yet.”
“Then agree to my trade. My life, for this city.”
“You are convincing, Miss Parker. A truly skilled negotiator. I am tempted to take you up on your offer, and I am not a warlord who is easily dissuaded. But you do not wish for what you ask.”
“I believe I very much do.”
“Very well. I will trade this city for you.”
She smiled.
Her victory was only momentary. He grinned. “Strip yourself naked and kneel at my feet.”
“What?”
At her look of horror, his grin faded to a cruel and austere smile. “You have your wish, do you not? You can spare this city. You offered yourself up to me. Do you not want to make the trade any longer?”
He was right. The feeling of being commanded to do something to save lives was mortifying. She had been foolish to think it would be anything else. “I…”
“You find yourself disgusted already by the prospect of obeying my commands. Did I not say as much?”
“You did.”
“If you truly pledged yourself as my slave in return for this city, I could demand you kneel between my legs and pleasure me. I could have you bend over this table, and I could take you right here in front of all these witless fools. And to spare your city, you would be forced to do so. This is what I wish to avoid. It is this look on your face that you wear right now that I do not wish to see. Loyalty built on fear is fragile, but loyalty built on trade is a lie. To that end, I will ask you one last time. Do you wish to make such a bargain? Can you do it without it being built upon a falsehood?”
She shut her eyes and felt her hopes fade. She had failed. “No.”
“Good. It is a child’s bargain that you wished to make, nothing more.”
“Do not insult me.”
“I am not. Believe me, I am not. Kings, Emperors, and Pharaohs have offered me all the same. You are far wiser than they. You admit your mistake so readily. Fealty cannot be bought. What I want from you can only be given, not taken.”
“I will not stop trying to find a way to spare my city.”
“And I will not ask you to. You have taken the hunters who seek to end my life in under your roof, and I have not once asked you to spurn them, now, have I?”
She paused. No, and she hadn’t even realized it until he pointed it out.
“I do not fault you for your nature. I ask that you do not fault me for mine. Now…please, remove your hairpins. I find this modern hairstyle disappointing when it comes to you.”
She reached up to her hair and pulled the pins that kept her long, wavy hair in its loose bun on the back of her neck. She let it all tumble loose. Placing her pins on the table next to her plate, she resumed eating, despite her stomach being tied in a knot. “There. As you requested.”
“Now you are upset with me for that I beat you in this game of chess.”
“Yes. And I suppose it is childish for me to feel that way. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised I have been outplayed by you.”
He sighed. “No. This is not how this evening is to go. I will not have you despondent and hopeless.”
“How am I supposed to be, faced with what I now know? That you will have all of me, to what ends you will not say. That my city is doomed, no matter my fate? How am I supposed to feel?”
“I can be a gracious and giving creature, Maxine Parker, should I find the inspiration.”
“And do I inspire you?”
“Oh…very much.”
His insinuation sent her face rushing in heat. Something shifted in the room again, and she looked up to find him gone. Missing. His chair had not been pulled away. The mystery did not last for long as a hand settled on her shoulder.
Gasping, her hand flew to one of her hair pins. She brandished it like a weapon.
&nb
sp; He laughed quietly, a sound that was both sinister and dangerously alluring. He leaned down over her, and she felt his lips graze against her ear. His hand slid into her hair, combing through it, before gathering the strands in his fingers and holding it in his grasp. “You would think to stab me?”
“I have little other recourse.”
“Draw my blood, and I will have to spend yours in return.” He let out a low hum, and a sound like an animalistic purr joined it briefly. His lips ghosted over her cheek, and he tilted her head, baring her throat to him. “Go on, then. Please defend yourself.”
“Don’t—”
“I wish to taste you, my beautiful little empath. I wish to feel you on my tongue. I find the wine a poor alternative.” His other hand ran slowly down her arm before it reached her wrist and took the pin from her hand. She was shaking too much to fight him. She did not resist as he placed the adorned metal stick back on the tablecloth.
When he kissed her throat, she gasped. She writhed in his grasp, and she could not deny that his touch set her on fire. It sent a heat coiling deep inside her that threatened to consume her. And there was nothing she could do to resist it. He was inevitable. He was a force of nature. He wanted her, and she suddenly realized she did not wish to tell him no.
She wanted him.
What he could do to her.
The feel of his soul sent hers begging for more. For a different kind of union.
But she was terrified of it all the same. “N…Not here, please.”
“Ah, I see. You are shy. You do not want witnesses as you feel my kiss for the first time.” He chuckled and placed his lips against the skin of her neck where it joined her shoulder. She jolted beneath him. “They will not remember a single moment of this.”
She scrambled for excuses. She struggled to find any reason he should stop. “I—I—”
“Although I find I must agree. This place lacks a certain…mystique. Your first experience with my true kiss should be a memorable event.” He straightened and released her hair. “I will grant your request. This will not happen here. But it will happen tonight, Miss Parker.”
She was trembling as she watched him disappear from her view. Like a dark shadow slipping over the room, he reappeared in his chair as if nothing had happened.
It would happen tonight.
She knew there would be no convincing him otherwise. Her hand traced her throat at the spot where he had kissed her, as if she would find something. “Where will it happen instead?”
“Somewhere more suitable.” The statement was so vague that she shot him a pointed glare. He laughed at her expression. “I find I prefer your ire to your fear. Fascinating. This is not a normal occasion for me. Tell me, Miss Parker. Do I frighten you?”
“Yes.”
“Yet you find the conviction to argue with me. To debate the nature of loyalty. You vie to sell yourself to me in trade. You ask for concessions from me. You want me. I can see it in your eyes. But you also want to kill me to save your city. I find it a heady and intoxicating mix. You belong to me, and somehow I find myself uneager to ruin you.”
“I do not belong to you.”
“Another lie you speak unwittingly.” His lips pulled back in an expression that was both a sneer and something animalistic, showing his pointed teeth. “You come to me not simply to avoid violence but because you desire to know me. You said it yourself.”
Now it was her turn to be angry. “You do not own me.”
“Ah, but I do.”
She glared at him. “There is nothing you can say or do to convince me that I—”
Glass shattered beside her outward onto the street. The window in its frame exploding was the first thing she grasped had happened. The feeling of a thousand wings battering at her, at tiny claws scratching at her skin surrounded her. Vlad had exploded into a swarm of bats, filling the restaurant and surrounding her.
The feeling of movement, and she was swept away once more.
Maxine screamed. Rather, she tried. No sound came out. She realized she was not being carried by the bats—no, she was as they were. A thousand pieces of herself. He had changed her form even as he had changed his own. She was helpless but to feel tumbled about as though she were falling and flying in the same breath.
When the world rebuilt itself around her, she would have collapsed to the ground, save that she was already lying on something that felt like cold stone. Her head spun and reeled. She felt nauseated. Slowly, piece by piece, bit by bit, the world stopped its wheeling about.
She sat up slowly and looked around to try to discern where he had brought her. She groaned. Vlad had promised to bring her somewhere that suited her better. He had a wicked sense of humor.
She was in a graveyard. It was a snide statement on her fate, perhaps. Or his state of being. The graveyard was one of the older colonial ones in the center of the city. It was surrounded by the buildings on three sides, and trees lined the yard between her and the street. She knew no one would see her.
Or him.
A hand twisted in her hair and pulled her back down to the stone. Forceful, but not violent. She gasped as she looked up at the Vampire King. He towered over her, standing at her head, crimson eyes glinting in the dim light from the moon and the gas lamps at the street. He was barely discernable from the tree above him in the darkness. He leaned closer, emerging from the shadows like a nightmare.
“A shame you will have missed dessert.” He grinned devilishly. “But I shan’t.”
She screamed and struggled, swatting at his hand, and tried to roll off the stone. She was lying on one of the stone tabletop tombs in the cemetery that marked the entrance to a larger underground vault. The grit of the weathered granite dug into her as she fought, but she could not care less.
And as quickly as her fight began, it ended. He released her hair, but suddenly—appearing there all at once—he was atop her. Supporting his weight with an elbow next to her head, his hand was on her cheek.
Her eyes met his, and she felt him slip into her mind like venom from a snake. He shushed her, soothed her, and silently promised her there was nothing to fear. His thumb traced a pattern slowly over her cheek before drifting to rest against the hollow of her chin beneath her parted lips.
The feeling of his soul against hers worked stronger than any hypnotism he could have ever used. He needn’t use it to calm her any longer. Something else now held her in his thrall. Something far more poignant and longer lasting than his illusion now kept her in his clawed grasp.
His desire.
“Do not be afraid. You will enjoy this, I promise you.” He lowered his head, ghosting his lips over hers. “Make no mistake, Maxine Parker. You may struggle against me. You may fight me. But you…are mine.”
And with that, he kissed her. He took her with the same passion, the same need, the same driving hunger she had felt the night before. But now, he seemed to know he would have what he wished for in the end. He took his time.
Her mind was free of his control. But she could not push him away. Part of her knew she couldn’t budge him, and the other part didn’t want him to stop.
His tongue flicked at her lips, and she willingly granted him entry. Her eyes slid shut as she felt him wash over her like an ocean wave. As he claimed her mouth, he slid deeper into her mind. The lines between them became blurred. All at once her lips were against his, and his were against hers.
She felt her fear. She felt her desire. She felt her fascination with him, how her back arched and pressed her up against his chest. She heard herself moan through his ears. Wanton and furtive, afraid and angry, unsure and bold.
“I want her, and I will have her. She will love me.”
The thoughts were not hers. But they might as well have been.
Vlad?
He broke off the kiss, growling in his throat like a hungry beast. It allowed her the blessed chance to breathe. “I will learn to curtail that gift of yours in time.” He smirked. “My little prying child. You ma
y hear more than you wish you had.”
His lips descended on hers again, uncaring for what would follow. He slipped closer to her, his body filling the space between her knees as she spread them for his presence. Clothing separated them, but he was over her, surrounding her, inside her mind, his tongue dancing with hers as he explored her.
Her hands were tangled in his coat and vest, and she moaned again. She writhed beneath him as she felt his desire mingle with hers. It was too much. She was too warm. She sought more of his touch a in the need to cool down.
He chuckled, and his hand drifted from her cheek down to her throat. Her heart was pounding beneath his touch.
“So many years of sorrow in such a young body. So much sadness. Such a rare jewel. So beautiful. So curious. Mine.”
His thoughts were still hers. They turned toward her, addressing her. “You hunger for this as much as I, don’t you?”
He broke away from her again and tilted her head to the side until her cheek rested against the cold stone beneath her. Her chest was heaving as she greedily filled her aching lungs with air. She wished she had not done up her corset so tightly.
When his tongue slid up her throat, she whimpered and writhed beneath him. Her hands were on his chest, but they were not pushing him away. They were clinging to him like a raft in the ocean. She was going to drown in him. She wondered if she would die happy that way. He was nestled against her hips, and she found herself pressing up into him, seeking the feeling of his weight against her.
His lips lingered by her ear. His breath was no longer freezing. Somehow, it was warmer than before. A puzzle she registered but had no time to think on, as his dusky and rumbling voice filled her thoughts.
He hummed approvingly and let his tongue flick against her ear before he murmured to her. “I will take a moment to point out it was you who pulled me close.”
This heat inside her body was her own fault, then. His lips found the hollow of her throat below her ear, and she gasped, arching up into him. She did not bother to deny that which they both knew.
He meandered his kisses down her throat, his lips now hot against her. She slid her hand to his neck, and there beneath her fingers, she felt a pulse. Slow. Thick. But it was there.
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