Blood Slave: The Beginning
By
Eden Wildblood
Licence Notes:
This ebook is licenced for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please destroy it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
PLEASE NOTE
This story depicts explicit sexual relationships between consenting adults, including elements of coercion and intimidation, which may be a trigger for some readers.
This story is not suitable for those under the age of 18.
Cover art by LM Cover Designs
Cover photographs courtesy of www.depositphotos.com
Prologue One
“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me,” Wynter told her very recently dumped ex-boyfriend Dominic before finally kicking his cheating arse out the door of her small townhouse. And she really did feel a fool. And ashamed.
He’d done the same to her months earlier and had come home grovelling with his tail between his legs, insisting it was nothing but a drunken mistake. That she ‘meant nothing.’ She’d tried her hardest to forgive and forget and had thought they were getting somewhere, but then he’d only gone and done it again. So, that was it. The straw that’d broken the camel’s back, and her heart.
As she watched him beg for forgiveness, Wynter felt an icy chill run not only down her spine but also into her heart as he pleaded for her to take him back, but it really was no use. She wasn’t angry or upset with him. If anything, she felt indifferent to Dominic and his puppy dog eyes. There was nothing there any more. No desire to try again and no fear of being alone. The last time, that was the only reason she’d taken him back. Being alone had seemed scarier than being locked into a relationship with a cheating bastard, but not this time.
She just guessed it was her way of coping, or some kind of defence mechanism getting to work on healing her from the inside out. Shutting off seemed the best way to deal right now. Closing that door and locking it tight was working, and she nourished that feeling of indifference. Part of her marvelled at how the human heart could close to someone it’d once held so dear, but hers really had. She wanted nothing more to do with Dominic, or any other man right now. Wynter simply wanted to be alone and so shut him out.
But then, she shut everyone out. In the aftermath of their break up, the iciness set in and became permanent. It spread to all other parts of her life and Wynter had no idea just how much she’d changed. She failed to notice how all of her relationships were affected, not to mention her love life. Besides, there was no such thing anymore, only one-night-stands and a beast of a dildo to keep her company on those nights she chose not to entertain the pretence of real.
She’d come to realise how her mother had been right. All throughout her childhood she’d told Wynter how men were nothing but monsters. She’d been burned too many times. Been treated like an afterthought by those she’d loved and discarded so easily for the younger, newer model. By her early thirties, her mother had sworn off men entirely, and Wynter could finally see why. It was just a shame she had gone on to become bitter and twisted, and a recluse who’d never let another man come near her again. Even Wynter barely had a thing to do with her. She’d moved across the country for Dom, and for some reason had chosen to stay even after they were over. She and her mum caught up in their few and far between chats via text and Wynter knew her mother liked it that way too.
She could see her life going in the exact same direction.
Those lessons had been hard to learn as a young woman, but even harder to overcome. As a teen, Wynter had somehow convinced herself she wouldn’t suffer the same fate. She had done everything she could to work through the mixed emotions she’d had when it came to relationships and intimacy. She had wanted both and had followed her urges over the years, trying to have it all, but time and again the same fires that’d hurt her mother so damn much had burnt her too.
Men—they could all go to hell as far as she was concerned. Even her friends were selfish and self-centred. Her best friend only ever called or text when she needed something, but when Wynter had needed help, no one had been there.
She decided she was going to become like them.
Cold.
Manipulative.
Selfish.
She wasn’t going to give anyone anything. Only take, and if they didn’t like it, then all they had to do was take a look in the mirror to figure out why she’d done it.
Prologue Two
Blood. Rivers of it were cascading over him in waves of hot, thick crimson, and he could taste the various qualities in it. Emotions were distinguishable as always. The sensations and undertones like subtle hints to the most deliciously flavoured wine he had ever tasted.
And to top it off, he could taste in the air the most delectable of scents. A woman with ice in her broken heart. He reached out into the ether and shared the feeling with her, like a dream that felt so real she would have to tell her friends about it the following day. She tried to fight it, unsure of what was setting her body on edge, but she was his to control and so he would. Over and over again.
Even in the haze of drunkenness, it would be the most wondrous thing she had ever experienced, and yet he knew she’d go home and tell herself it couldn’t be true. She couldn’t become this man’s plaything. This monster.
But the dark man had forced her. Persuaded and manipulated every moment to bring her to this place where the world ended and darkness prevailed.
With a smile, he showed her a glimpse of the future. A time and place where eyes the colour of glowing sapphires haunted her.
She stumbled away, looking over her shoulder, feeling eyes on her.
He had memorised her scent and Wynter knew he would always find her.
He would even prey upon those she loved to punish her if she didn’t return. Maybe even force her to love him.
And to top it all off, she’d go willingly. Like a foolish little girl who had thought she was strong enough to outwit the most cunning creature who had ever lived, she would play his games and lose time and again.
One
“And finally, we have the boss’s office on the fourth floor, which is where I leave you. Please take a seat and someone will be here to interview you shortly,” the burly security guard, David, declared and, with a smile and a nod, he was gone again. And just like that, she was one step closer to the job of a lifetime. A chance to start anew and really get somewhere. To be someone else.
Wynter stood staring at the open doorway with a frown. This all seemed too good to be true. There had to be a catch. Jobs like this didn’t just present themselves out of the blue.
Everything in her life had fallen flat, and there was no way this was going to be any different. The list seemed to go on and on, and to top it all off there was that odd drunken dream she’d had the night before. Rivers of blood that tasted like wine… No, she wasn’t letting herself so much as think about that right now. Too many vampire movies, that was the problem. She’d sworn off men and instead found herself fantasising about fictional anti-heroes and bad boys her psyche was trying to convince her could be saved. Or maybe she’d thought they could save her too? Jeez, this was exactly why she didn’t like to let herself overthink shit like this!
Real life was
bad enough without her somehow adding other strange woes into the mix. She’d broken up with Dominic two years before, who’d then gone on to marry the slut he’d cheated on her with. And all the while Wynter had simply grown colder towards men, rather than ever let one hurt her again. She’d used them up and spat them out before things got serious, or often only let them stay for one night to avoid any awkwardness at all. Her heart wasn’t broken any more, but it was locked away. No key. Just a wall of rock solid ice.
Her job prospects had been dwindling after being passed up for promotion in her current role as Junior Graphic Designer at Marsden and Carmichael—again, and that was why she’d jumped at the chance to start again somewhere new. How she’d ended up here, in a silent hallway waiting to be called in and scrutinised by what she presumed would be a panel of blank faces when she eventually got called through. But Wynter knew she’d play along if it got her the pay rise she so desperately needed.
She was alone and barely scraping by. The last thing she wanted was for some psycho to take the spare room in her two-bed home, but Wynter had also come to realise that without the extra money to pay the mortgage and bills, she was in danger of losing it.
She had attempted to drown her sorrows on the pennies left in her purse and dance through her woes at the nightclub the night before, where the same security guard who’d shown her around just now had approached her. He’d offered a job interview on the spot. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, the offer of an interview had come after her having refused the invitation of the club’s owner to join him in one of his private booths. He hadn’t even bothered to come down himself and had sent his minion to do his bidding, and Wynter had laughed in the guy’s face. She wasn’t going to flutter her eyelashes and follow him upstairs just because his boss had spied her from his tower, and had told him so before stalking away.
But then, the bouncer had intercepted her on the way out and offered her a different kind of invitation. The prospect of a job there had been much more appealing and while she’d played it cool, Wynter had readily accepted. She knew it couldn’t be a coincidence that there was suddenly an opening available though.
There was a reason Slave was one of the most prestigious and exclusive nightclubs Manchester had to offer. They never had open interviews or advertised for jobs, she’d checked, and while intrigued by the offer, she was not going to let herself be fooled into signing anything unless it looked legit. If the owner, Mr Cole, wanted her to work for him then fine, but if he just wanted some whore on his payroll then he was going to have to look elsewhere. She wasn’t that hard up. Not yet at least.
After sitting for a short while, Wynter was eventually ushered inside another empty room and she took a look around the huge office. She’d expected to find other candidates sat waiting inside, but there was no one else. Just her, and so she took a seat and waited patiently for her interview to begin.
This was just the latest in a string of desperate attempts to turn her life around and, much like all the rest, she didn’t expect to walk out with an offer above what she was earning in her current job. All she hoped was that they’d give her the chance to start at the bottom and work her way up. She’d work behind the bar if she had to or clean the toilets.
Something had needed to change for a long time. Wynter didn’t know if it was the overbearing sense of constant rejection she’d felt from everyone in her life, or the iciness inside of her that was growing and growing with every pitfall she managed to find herself falling into, but she was scared. And tired. She didn’t want to struggle any more. She wasn’t afraid of hard work and was willing to push herself to whatever limits she needed to if it stopped her life from spiralling any further. If it made that downward curve turn the other way, even just a little, then she was willing to give everything she had to make it work.
And so, she was there and was ready and willing to hear what the illustrious Mr Cole had to say. She focussed on the inside of the club, thinking how it hadn’t looked like she’d imagined. The walls had been white and the offices spotless. Almost clinical.
This one was different though. The room she was in now had been decorated in blue and grey, and reeked of masculinity. There weren’t flowers in vases or mirrors to brighten up the space, but stripes painted at perfect angles across the huge walls and even a collection of what seemed to be close up photographs along one side. From where she sat, Wynter thought they looked like blood films. They were black and white, but looked like various types of red cells. Some were flat, while others had clumped together. It was an odd choice, or so she thought.
Wynter wasn’t waiting long, but was surprised when a solitary man came in and nodded to her before closing the door behind him, rather than the panel from the HR team she’d expected.
“Good afternoon, Miss Armstrong,” he said, his tone formal and his voice a deep, rumbling caress against her ears. He was certainly eloquent.
Wynter stood and shook his hand, taking in his appearance. He was in a charcoal suit that was clearly expertly tailored and probably cost more than she made in a year, and had teamed it with a crisp pale grey shirt and deep blue tie. With his dark grey hair and the piercing blue eyes he was inspecting her with, he was interesting and well groomed and had a powerful way about him. The man was clearly older than her by at least a decade, but he still had that sort of look about him she quite liked. He had to be in his early-forties but was slim and tall, and he didn’t appear to have let himself go over the years either.
“Please, call me Wynter,” she replied with a genuine smile, thinking how if he turned out to be the boss she’d turned down the night before, she was a fool to have refused him.
“Of course,” he accepted with a courteous nod as he took his seat behind the huge desk between them. “I’m Marcus. I oversee Mr Cole’s numerous establishments across the world. He has asked me to outline his proposal for your employment and to seal the deal, so to speak.” He then indicated for her to take her seat again, and Wynter frowned.
“Forgive me, I thought you’d need to interview me first?” she asked, but Marcus shook his head.
“No need. Mr Cole has already vetted you and made sure of your credentials. All that’s left is for you to sign on the dotted line…” he then produced a folder from the drawer to his right and pulled a pile of papers from inside it.
They had been carefully arranged and collated, and she could see that someone had meticulously indicated various parts of the document using sticky tabs. The boss, Mr Cole had clearly elicited a good few hours’ work from whoever had put this pack together for him, and she found herself unsure. What was in that folder? Wynter suddenly felt uncomfortable with how fast the recruitment process was going and took a deep breath to steady herself.
“He can’t possibly know enough to hire me without seeing what I can do?” Wynter insisted, and was sure she caught Marcus roll his eyes with impatience. He clearly hadn’t anticipated having to handhold her, but she wasn’t going to sign anything until she had been fully informed of what would be expected of her.
“He does and he has,” he told her in a clipped tone, but then took a breath and fixed those bright blue eyes of his on her again. “Everything you need to know is outlined in this document.” He plucked the top few sheets out and then laid his large palm atop the folder while he continued to scrutinise her.
Wynter sat back down, staring back at him. Marcus softened his features but continued to watch her, but she could tell he was trying to hide something. And, was he really trying to woo her? To make her think she had a chance by flirting and attempting to make her go all giddy? Well if he was, then he’d chosen the wrong lady to try that with. Wynter didn’t do girly. She didn’t get flustered thanks to a man’s attention, nor would she foolishly sign her life away simply because he’d fixed her with those incredible eyes and insisted she do so.
“And what exactly do you have there on me?” she asked, thinking the folder was far too thick to simply be a contract. If Mr Cole had som
e kind of dossier on her he was obliged to show Wynter before she committed to a future with him. Either that, or he had a very meticulous way of doing business. If the latter, it appeared he was dead set on having a full agreement signed from the onset, and proving all the ways in which she was expected to work beneath his administration.
No matter his way of having Marcus do things, it made her think he liked establishing power over his employees and proving he had the means to hold them to their promises right from day one. A way of ensuring no one backed out or walked away. Perhaps some kind of leverage over them?
Her mind wandered back to the night before. Yes, she’d been inebriated, but she remembered talking with the security guard, David, and asking if he liked working there. His answer had wholeheartedly been yes. He’d warned her it was the sort of job that took over your life though, but in a good way. How he never wanted to leave and always arrived early and left late for his shifts by choice. Wynter hoped he had been telling her the whole truth, and not a lie concocted to get her on side.
Marcus waited a beat and when she didn’t cave, he smiled to himself as though impressed by his new potential employee’s ability to keep her wits about her even while under pressure. He clearly wasn’t used to dealing with such headstrong workers, but she wasn’t afraid to push him back. After all, the job was apparently already in the bag, or so he’d said.
“This is the standard contract all employees are required to sign,” he finally answered.
“It’s very large,” she replied with an element of mirth to her tone, and was pleased when she elicited a smile from Marcus, albeit a fleeting one.
“It is indeed very large, Miss Armstrong, hence the need to move forward right away. We have the usual outline of your job role and expectations anticipated of you therein, but then yours also has some special alterations and dispensations as per Mr Cole’s request. By the end of our meeting I hope to have the contract fully completed and you ready to begin your probationary period right away.”
The Beginning Page 1
