The Vampire's Prey

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The Vampire's Prey Page 12

by Vivian Murdoch


  Whirling back around, I take the steps up to Theophilus' office, barely pausing before I go through the door. "I need her number."

  Chuckling, he leans back in his chair. "Is she refusing to give it to you?" He sits back up and flits through a stack of papers on his desk. "Here.” He tosses the paper over to me before steepling his fingers under his chin. "I was just about to tell her to not bother coming into work tomorrow. I can't have someone miss that many shifts and still have a job. I don't care if she fucks a different vampire every night."

  I can feel my anger flaring up. "Or, she could be in trouble," I ground out. "Have you ever thought of that?"

  His eyebrow quirks up as he looks me up and down. "Isn't that what you're here for? Everyone knows you had her down at the club. If you care so much, why aren't you over there watching out for her?"

  "I have been damn it! But I’m not just going to barge in on her life if she does not actually want me there. I do not grovel.” I don’t even wait for a reply. Pulling out my phone, I dial her number as I head to the car.

  Voicemail.

  Damn it again. I need to get into her house, but I just don’t know how. My palms slam down hard on the steering wheel. How dare she make me worry like this. I intend to not let her sit pretty for at least several days once I get a hold of her.

  I race towards her apartment, talking myself down, so I’m not in a rage when she lets me in. If she lets me in. Within minutes, I'm back at her door. Everything is so eerily quiet. Even the bugs aren’t chirping. An ominous feeling of dread fills me as I knock on the door. I feel so stupid. I should’ve done this a few days ago.

  No answer.

  Dread coils in my stomach as I knock again. Finally, a faint shuffle sounds in her apartment. She’s at least alive. That is until I get through with her. The quiet scuff and shuffle of her feet ease my nerves. The tension I’ve been holding onto for so many days starts to bleed out the louder that shuffle becomes. Not dead. Thank the gods, she’s not dead.

  "I've already told you," her voice, weak and thin, "I've already found religion. I don't need any more.”

  She clicks open the lock and eases the door open a crack. The smell of dried blood and garlic hits me in the face from behind her in the apartment. Fear and pain slam into me as I stare down into her deep, chocolate eyes. Gone are the dazzling blue orbs that held me captive, that widened with desire. What the hell is happening?

  "Oh Fuck!"

  Her soft exclamation snaps me out of my thoughts. I’ll dwell on that later. Without thinking, I snarl down at her. "Let. Me. In.” I know compulsion doesn’t work on her, but I can’t help myself. I need to get in there. I have to see what is happening to cause all that blood. To my shock, she opens the door wider. I see her fighting the compulsion, struggling against the words, but, nevertheless, she caves to my demands.

  "Please come in.” Her voice is raspy from lack of use, but it does what I need it to. Pushing into the apartment, I scan the tiny area, looking for anyone who might be harming her. Confusion settles as I take in her studio. Immediately, my eyes zero in on the smashed mirror and dried blood. Narrowing my eyes, I look down at her hands and see where her knuckles are healing. Bringing her hand up to me, I ignore her feeble attempts at pulling out of my grasp. She is so incredibly weak. All I see are cuts but nothing severe.

  "What happened?"

  I truly look at her then. Now that I know she is alive, I can take my time to peruse her body at my leisure. She shrinks back from me, pulling a tattered quilt tighter around her body with her free hand. Her face is pale and slightly sunken, and her hair is in a tattered mess.

  "Let me look at you," I growl, releasing her hand.

  She takes a few steps back and shakes her head rapidly. Smirking, I stalk closer. "That was not a request, pet," I compel, eating up every bit of distance she keeps putting between us. The backs of her legs hit the bed. She knows there is nowhere left to run. Her eyes dart back and forth between me and the door, each glance becoming more pained as she assesses her options. Feeble fingers clench and claw at the blanket, and I know she is resisting. I just don’t know why.

  My voice is low and quiet, the authority snapping and sizzling in the air. I’m in no mood to play with her. Especially not when she’s injured. The blood I smell is too much to be the cuts on her hands. Something else is happening. Something is very wrong here.

  “I will catch you before you even make it a step. Now. Show yourself to me.”

  I put a bit more compulsion into my order, and it clearly pains her as she tries harder to resist.

  Slowly, the quit drops to the floor. I gasp as I take in her pale form. Bruises dot her skin in odd areas. They appear as if someone has been hitting her in random areas, but they are much smaller than a man's. The smell of blood hits me harder. Not all of it is old. She turns around and my stomach flip-flops as I take in the lines and streaks across her back.

  "Who did this to you!" I fight hard to keep the rage in check. I cannot scare my delicate prey right now. That would do neither of us any good.

  "I did," she whispers, her head tilting down towards the bed.

  I am too stunned to speak for a moment.

  "You? How? Why?"

  Before she can answer, I look around the room. For the first time, I actually see what is all around me. Cloves of garlic hang in each corner with a garland draped over her bed. Silver crosses hang strategically around the room alongside different incantations in various languages. Fuck me. She knows. Finally, I draw my gaze back down towards the bed. Laying near the edge is a small, leather flogger. Its falls are black, and so I can’t actually see any blood on there. But I don’t have to. It would take an idiot to not put two and two together.

  Careful to not upset her, I ease her around to face me again. Pain lances through me at every wince marring her face.

  "Why? Why would you do this to yourself? If someone else did this to you,” I pause to regain myself. The thought of anyone laying a hand on her is enough to make me bellow to the heavens. If you’re protecting someone else, don’t. They will never touch you again. I will make certain!

  Her skin bunches up in my hands as she fights my grasp. Weak as she is, she’s still fighting me. I let her go before she damages herself trying to get away from me. If I let myself think about it too much, the pain of her rejection comes creeping back in.

  "But you can't keep me from touching you," she wails, throwing herself at my chest. "You are my temptation. I must flee!"

  "Sit down!" I roar. I am no longer playing nice with her. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I will get to the end of it. "You are leaving with me tonight. What do you need to go?"

  She hesitates, looking around the room, then looking back at me in surprise. "How did you get in here?"

  "I don’t understand. You let me in.” Now I'm feeling even more concerned. Perhaps she has a concussion? I reach out to feel her scalp when she flies up from the bed and rushes towards the sink.

  "I shouldn't have! I revoke my invitation.” She turns around to look at me, and her jaw drops. "Didn't you hear me? You're not allowed in!" she shrieks.

  Turning back towards the sink, I watch her fumble to get her contacts in. It takes a few tries because her hands are shaking so badly. I cross my arms as she turns back around to face me.

  "It doesn’t work that way darling. This isn’t some horror movie where the heroine gets out of a scrape by tossing the monster out.” I cross my arms and level my sternest glare. “I am not going anywhere. But you are for sure coming with me now."

  "You can't make me!"

  If the situation wasn’t so dire, I would have laughed in her face. There she is, barely able to stand, telling me that I can’t make her. It’s priceless. One day, I hope to have a good laugh with her over it. Now is definitely not the time though. I make my way towards her, my long strides eating the distance quickly. Grasping her chin in my grasp, I stare down at her intently.

  "As much as I love your
sass and spunk, now is not the time to test me. You can either gather your things and come with me quietly, or I will throw you over my shoulder and take you anyway. But with the second way, all your things stay behind. You have a choice to make, and I suggest you do it quickly."

  I watch as the wheels crank in her head. Thankfully, she doesn’t put up a fight. Relief flows down my spine and out through my limbs. She is already fragile enough. I don’t wish to push her over the edge. Once she’s healed though, we are going to have a very long talk. I walk back over to the door to guard the entrance. It is the only way out, and I am not allowing her near it without me there.

  She scurries around, throwing stuff into a ragged-looking suitcase. Most everything she just tosses in without taking much care with it. However, the quilt she wore around her body earlier is gently laid in last. Her fingers brush over the raised design for a moment before she snaps the lid closed.

  "I'm ready," she whispers, fidgeting with the bag in front of her.

  I smirk and point to her naked body. "Is that so? I guess you plan on giving your neighbors a good show then."

  Her face lights up with the prettiest blush as she sets her bag down and rummages in the closet for a moment. My cock began to stir as she hops about, tugging various items on. It feels so wrong to desire her right now, especially with the weight of what is happening hanging between us. With a quiet groan, I adjust myself and grab her bag. Holding out my other hand, I wait for her to take it before turning to the door.

  "Listen to me. There will be no antics outside of this door. You will not alert anyone in any way that you are leaving. Do you understand me?"

  "Yeah," she sulks, rolling her eyes.

  Frowning, I drop her hand and grab her chin again. "Young lady, do not test me right now. You and I are already going to have a long talk. Do not make me add a punishment onto it. Because we can either sit and talk like polite adults, or we can talk while you are over my lap receiving a sound spanking."

  She opens and closes her mouth a few times. "You wouldn't dare!"

  I smirk. "Just like I wouldn’t make you go down to the club naked? Just like I didn’t ram a piece of ginger up your ass? Trust me, I can be very creative with my punishments. So, let’s try this again. Do you understand?"

  Her chin drops to her chest. "Yes sir."

  My damn cock gets even harder. Reaching out, I grab her hand once more and leave the apartment. After she locks up, I take back her hand and lead her to my car. She is either mad or thinking. Unfortunately, with her being so pale and drawn, I cannot read her as well as I would like. Silence looms in the car as we make our way to my house. What exactly am I thinking? I can’t keep her a prisoner. Yes, you can. She belongs to you. It is your job to make sure she is safe. Okay, but safe from what?

  I glance back over at Evangeline. Tears pool in her eyes but never fall. Her blood still stings my nose, demanding I take her right then. It takes all my training to keep the car on the road. Besides, I don’t know the extent of her injuries. Any blood I take could have disastrous effects.

  The drive takes way longer than I would like. Normally, the open scenery calms me. Tonight, it just makes me anxious. The longer it takes for me to get her to my home, the longer it is before I can take care of her. I wish that my motives were pure, but if I were to be honest, I want her to talk. I don’t care as much about her getting better at this moment. I need to know what is going on inside that convoluted mind of hers.

  “Are they prescription?” I ask, just trying to break the silence.

  She grimaces and rubs at her eyes for a moment before looking over at me. “Yes. I’m a bit nearsighted.”

  Something about her answer doesn’t ring true, but I won’t push it right now. “Why are they a different color?”

  A light blush tinges her cheeks. “Haven’t you ever wanted to change something about yourself? Shit brown eyes don’t exactly get you the guys.”

  I frown at her words. “I happen to think your eyes are gorgeous. But if you feel more comfortable...”

  “I do,” she interrupts before plucking at her shirt.

  We descend into another uncomfortable silence. Why is she putting up so many walls? Doesn’t she realize it would be so much easier to just let me in and let me help? She’s so small, so fragile right now. I don’t even want to breathe in her direction for fear of shattering her.

  After what feels like an eternity, the white brick walls of my house loom into view. A part of me is happy to see it. The other part dreads what’s coming. Looking over at my little prisoner, I see her eyes widen in awe. A small bit of satisfaction worms its way into my heart. Of course, I love the place, but for some reason, seeing her also like it makes me feel warm and fuzzy. Her eyes keep darting all around, taking in all the details, that she does not even notice when we stop. I give her a few more moments as I gather my thoughts and plan out how things are about to go down.

  "Time to go," I whisper, stroking the back of her hand. She looks over at me, the look of happiness fading from her eyes. No matter. This is what has to be done to keep her from harm, even if it’s harm from herself.

  She doesn’t resist as I open the door and guide her out of the car. I guess she’s not completely resigned to her fate, but I do not like this either. I want her willing and eager to be at my side. I grab her bag and lead her into the front foyer.

  Once we are both inside, I set the alarm and arm the door bolt. This way, no one can get in or out without my approval. A slight sway catches my eyes, and I’m reminded about how much of an ordeal she has gone through.

  "When did you eat last?"

  Again, she looks at the floor, shame coming off of her in waves. "Since before work."

  It takes a moment for me to process what she is saying. "You have not eaten since then? Have you at least kept yourself hydrated?" Once I nurse her back to health, she has one hell of a spanking coming. How dare she treat herself so poorly.

  "I am allowed fluids while fasting.” She looks up at me, her eyes narrowing, daring me to contradict.

  "Fasting? That’s what you were doing?" Snorting, I stare her down. “I take it that means you kept nutrients on hand to make up for the loss from lack of eating?” Nothing. “You might be surprised, but I’ve also fasted before, and I can guarantee you I didn’t walk away looking like a corpse.” The look she shoots me is downright murderous.

  “Oh, I’m sure it was exactly the same. I’m sure you’ve actually “truly,” her fingers do that annoying air-quote thing, and it sets my teeth on edge. “Fasted. What do you really know about religious fasting? It’s obvious you’re a heathen of the highest degree.”

  I stare at her for a moment. Should I be flattered or insulted? Tension creeps up the back of my neck. I’ve never heard of vampires getting headaches before, but maybe I’m just the lucky one. "Either way, it ends tonight. I don’t care why you are doing it. We’ll get to that later. Right now, you are going to let me take care of you, and that starts with a bath. Take off your shoes.”

  I pull mine off and set them on a stand near the front door. Instead of doing what I command, she stands there staring at me.

  "Did you not hear me? Or must I take them off for you?"

  I walk back towards her, and she backs away from me. Fear and anxiety still pour off of her. Damn it. What in the hell happened over those few days? Any ground I gained feels like it not only disappeared but put me in the negative.

  "No, no! I can take them off myself.”

  She makes quick work of her shoes and hands them to me. I grab them and place them next to mine. Oddly, the pair look right together.

  "First rule in this house is shoes are taken off immediately at the door. It is a matter of respect for this house."

  "Respecting the house?" she giggles.

  Her fingers fly up in front of her lips as if to take back the laugh after it escaped. I allow it though. At this point, I might allow any number of things just to hear that beautiful laugh spilling from her lip
s.

  "Yes," I raised a brow, my lips quirking in a repressed smile, "respect for this house. There are several rules you will obey while you are here, but those will come later. For now, I need to get you cleaned."

  She crosses her arms and tilts her head. "I can clean myself."

  "Obviously.” I walk over to her and take a tangled strand of hair into my fingers. "You have proven that you can most certainly take care of yourself."

  She opens her mouth to protest, but I ignore her and scoop her into my arms. Her body spasms up as her back touches my arm. That will also need to be attended to. I do not need to keep smelling her blood, calling to me like a drink to an alcoholic. I take the stairs three at time, barely pausing as I go through the guest room and into the adjoining bath. Easing her down onto the closed toilet, I turn and lock the doors before turning on the water.

  "It's not like I have anywhere to go," she sighs, looking pointedly at the door. "You live in the middle of nowhere. No way I can walk anywhere to tell them you've kidnapped me."

  I look at her, incredulous at her statement. "Kidnapped you? You are seriously going to sit here and say that?"

  A small prick of conscience tugs at me, but I slam it down. It may be kidnapping technically, but it’s for her own good. Without hesitation, I yank her up and pull down her pants. Her blows against me feel like nothing, even more of a testament to how frail she is right now. Setting her back down, I point out all the bruises marring her legs.

  "Tell me how you got these?"

  Her mouth thins as she tries pulling away from me.

  "Oh no you don’t.” I grab her hips to still her. "And your back. Who did that to you?"

  She looks everywhere but at my face.

  "It seems to me that if I never showed up, you might have died in there. Who knows?"

  "I do," she yells back, trying hard to push me away. "No one has ever died from a penance. That I would be so lucky."

  I pull back. "You have the audacity to tell me that you don’t even care if you die or not?"

  "Of course, I care. But penance is the only way to... To be free of you.” Her whisper is so soft. I was only able to catch it because of my inhuman hearing.

 

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