A single drop of her blood fell onto the page and was soaked up in an instant, having dried before she could wipe at it, and Wynter pushed her thumb into her mouth in a bid to stop any more from messing up the contract. She was about to offer Marcus an apology, when she felt a wave of nausea wash over her.
She suddenly felt incredibly off. She came over hot and cold, and was then filled with a strange awareness of her own body like she’d never felt before. Every inch of her skin was on fire. It was itching, aching for something, and she didn’t know what on Earth it could be, or at least that was until she looked up at Marcus and felt drawn to him like a magnet. As if he were the cure to her sudden onset of desperation.
Wynter somehow knew that wherever he went, she wanted to follow him, and how she’d do whatever it took to stay there by his side. She didn’t even know the reason or understand why she felt those things, but she did. And she hoped to God he felt the same way about her too, otherwise things could get awkward pretty damn quickly.
His expression told Wynter he at least felt something. It didn’t matter his age or the powerful position he was clearly in, she liked him and wanted to explore her feelings when appropriate and when they were, hopefully, reciprocated.
“I’d like you to take a copy of this home with you. Make sure you read it again and are happy before your probationary period ends in one week’s time,” Marcus told her after a few seconds of silence, before he took the signed contract and secured it in his desk drawer. “But for now, it’s time you were shown to your office and given the full details about what other exploits we cater for here. Some will come as a shock, but you’re one of the team now, so I’m sure I can trust you to keep your wits about you and use your discretion when it comes to being open-minded.”
“Sure,” Wynter answered with a shrug. Sounded to her like the club seconded as something secretive and perhaps illegal. Maybe involving men and women for hire? Or perhaps feeding extreme sexual appetites? She was no prude and figured she’d seen a lot and done plenty when it came to exploring her sexuality. There couldn’t be much that would shock her. Or so she thought.
With a nod, Marcus then led them out and across the corridor to an awaiting elevator. Inside, Wynter felt herself gravitating towards him. She still felt that odd attraction to him, as if he had something she desperately needed. She wanted to tell him, but she caught her breath before she made a fool out of herself. Even if being away from him made her ache to get closer, she wasn’t going to give in. There was no part of her that wanted to make a fool of herself on day one.
They went down to a set of offices she’d seen on her tour and came to a stop outside the one marked Marketing Manager. Her office. Wynter could’ve jumped for joy just thinking about it.
Marcus produced a key from his pocket, unlocked the door, and led her inside. He then handed the key to Wynter, who immediately secured it to her set of house keys.
“When you’re out of this office for any reason, you lock the door,” he demanded. “In fact, lock yourself inside when you’re alone as well. Security is top priority, even with your co-workers. Not everyone is trustworthy, Wynter. You never know what people might try and snoop on when your back is turned or come in and watch you work with their prying eyes. In fact, go ahead and lock it behind us now. I’d like a moment alone before we get down to work.”
Wynter felt strange locking them in together. She did as Marcus asked, but she couldn’t deny feeling uneasy about being alone with him in her new office. It felt sordid. Like they were going to develop a name for themselves already and while she couldn’t deny still finding him attractive, it didn’t mean she was ready to jump his bones within minutes of signing her contract.
“Marcus, I…” she began, but he held up one hand to shush her.
Against all of her natural instincts, Wynter couldn’t help but obey, and she watched as he looked her up and down, that salacious smile back again.
“You agreed to do whatever tasks were asked of you during your overtime periods,” he said, reminding her of the strange clause at the end of the contract. He then checked his watch, reminding her that, with it being Saturday afternoon, they were smack bang in the middle of those overtime hours. “But, what kind of work do you imagine it to be?” he pressed her after a tense silence and Wynter gulped. “You need to go into this job with your eyes open. You’ll be making more money than you ever dreamed while gaining the respect of your bosses, peers and subordinates alike. But it will come at a price.”
Wynter shook her head. She’d made it clear to David the night before that she was no whore, so if Mr Cole had put that clause in there because he expected her to perform for him or entertain his guests then he certainly had another thing coming.
“It doesn’t say in the contract what the overtime work will entail,” she answered after remembering those few lines again. That was when it properly dawned on her. It didn’t say she would be working extra hours to complete her usual work. In fact, it didn’t say anything more than how she would be expected to add time to her weekend at the behest of Mr Cole. It could technically be anything he asked of her and she wouldn’t have a leg to stand on if she tried to refuse.
She opened her mouth to snap some snide remark Marcus’s way, but he shushed her again.
“Before you go demanding to rescind your contract because of your probationary period, I want you to at least try things our way. If you leave before the week is up, you can never change your mind and come back. It’ll be like you were never here. All will be lost and no amount of begging will change that, so why not at least give this place a go? Like I said, I only want you to go into this job with a clear head.”
“Why?” she asked, feeling lost. Nothing was making sense, but she realised she’d been right about one thing. The deal had been too good to be true. Wynter had been offered everything she’d ever dreamed of. Money, a title she felt she deserved, and the chance to reinvent herself under a new boss and in a new life. This job was her opportunity to step out from the darkness she’d shielded herself in for far too long, but of course, there was a price.
“Give me one week to sway you, Wynter,” Marcus replied, stepping closer.
She stepped away, but he kept on advancing and soon her back was against the locked door and she had nowhere else to run. Marcus placed a hand on her cheek, ignoring her trembling, and she couldn’t deny it felt amazing to have him touch her. “You may walk away at any point in the next seven days, but I believe that by the time we reach this same moment next week, you’ll be begging me to let you stay.”
“And why is that?” she asked, feeling penetrated by his powerful gaze. Wynter could also feel herself starting to thaw. She had a week to decide. Seven nights of work to see this place in all its glory and gore, and she was going to use them wisely. Get the lay of the land and figure out what the hell she was dealing with before she made her final decision.
“Because what Marcus Cole wants, Marcus Cole gets…”
Wynter started to laugh uncontrollably. Why hadn’t she realised sooner? Of course it was the renowned Mr Cole she had been dealing with the entire time. Who else would’ve had the power to offer her such an intricately planned out deal? He would never have trusted someone else to procure his next prize, not when he seemed to enjoy the hunt so damn much.
“And what do you intend to do with me for the next seven days, Mr Cole?”
“Teach you,” he replied and then leaned closer so that his lips were right by her ear. “I’ve promised to give you everything you ever wanted, so now I’m going to deliver it. And all while you learn about my life and my work. How I run my empire. What I like and dislike. And of course, how I expect my women to behave…”
“You’ve got another thing coming if you think I—”
Marcus silenced Wynter with a kiss and while she tried to fight him off at first, it wasn’t long before she began to melt against him, her senses suddenly overwhelmed.
Her body was strangely awakened
, as if every one of her true hormonal responses and carnal desires had lain dormant and in wait for the right man to stoke those fires back to life, and properly coax them out of her.
Nothing compared to the rush she felt. No one else’s kiss had ever made her feel the way Marcus’s was. Her memories of other lovers were null and void after just a few seconds of his mouth on hers, and Wynter was suddenly feeling rather forgiving about his devious approach at getting her to sign that contract.
When he pulled back she felt bereft. With him so close she could feel the heat from his body radiating against hers, and couldn’t focus on anything other than her need to have his mouth on hers again.
Marcus licked his lips and that was when Wynter saw the slightest shade of pink staining them. Was that blood? She didn’t feel like her lips were bleeding or anything, but when he grinned again his teeth were a dazzling bright white. It had to have been a trick of the light, she presumed. She’d been lost in her lustful haze and had seen something that wasn’t there. Yes, that was it. It had to be.
“You’re very lucky,” Marcus warned as he dipped his head down again and placed another kiss against her cheek. “I don’t usually kiss on the first date, but with you I simply couldn’t help myself.” He then let out a small laugh before stepping away. She felt lost all over again and slumped against the door behind, feeling vulnerable and drained. What the hell was that? With him close by she felt whole, but when he was gone, so too were those rekindled hopes and dreams.
“Tell me more about what you want from me, Marcus,” Wynter begged, “explain that clause at the end of the contract and why you warned me about it?”
He walked around the room like a ghost. He brushed his fingertips over the desk and chair with only the slightest of touches and didn’t seem to disturb a thing. He stopped only once he’d reached the solitary window that Wynter could tell looked out onto the nightclub below.
“I expect the men and women who work for me to undertake extra work at my command,” he answered, still looking down at what she assumed was the now empty club. Wynter knew that already, but decided against saying anything more just yet. Instead, she crept closer. “Every employee has a maximum of two set days per week in which they cover that workload. My clients pay well and frequent us often, and that extra money is shared between myself and the employee who does my bidding.”
“So you do whore us out?” Wynter replied with a frown. She felt sick at the sheer thought, but didn’t stop her approach.
“No, I do not,” he answered curtly. She moved closer still, watching his face from the side as he continued to stare out the window. “Everyone has needs. Some make sense to others and some don’t, but that doesn’t make them any less real. Myself and others like me require regular top-ups from those in our employ. By regulating it, I help to avoid causing a scene or doing any damage to our reputations while taking what we need. What we must have in order to survive.”
“Regulating what?” she whimpered, watching him intently.
Marcus had seemed to go impossibly pale, yet his eyes were somehow shining even brighter. She could see his reflection in the glass and it was as if she were staring at a skeleton, not a man made from flesh and bone. His eyes darted and caught hers in the reflection and she felt her entire body go icy cold. As if death himself was peering at her through the void of time and space. Like she had crossed over through the veil at the reaper’s invitation.
“The blood letting,” he answered her in the same calm monotone he’d used earlier in the interview. “If we must take it, surely you agree it is better that we do so with willing donors?”
Her head began to spin. No, she couldn’t have heard him right. No way.
And yet, Marcus remained perfectly still as he watched her take it in and process what he had said. His impossibly bright blue eyes still bore into hers through the reflection in the glass and Wynter felt as though her heart skipped a beat.
“What are you?” she asked, “what world have you lured me into?” Wynter added before breaking the eye contact and slumping down against the desk.
“A world where blood means more to my clients than money. One where you and everyone else here holds the key to our very survival itself,” he answered and then he turned to look at her. Wynter was relieved to see Marcus as he had been before, not the ghoulish form she knew she never wanted to see again, and yet wasn’t able to forget.
He stepped closer and for some strange reason she didn’t try to clamber away. This time, she held his gaze and remained rooted to the spot, eager to know more.
“When you kissed me…”
“It was because I had to taste you,” he answered with that same devilish grin she’d come to dote on in just the couple of hours she’d known him. “I had my suspicions that you would be delicious, but only recently did you begin to outshine all the other frequenters to my club. I needed someone new to join my specially chosen team and last night it was as though I could smell you before you’d even walked through the door.” Wynter gulped. He could smell her?
“And that’s why you sent David down to get me?”
“Yes, but you weren’t playing, were you? I had to come up with a new plan. A better one. My desire for you overshadowed everything else and so I did my research. I found out what you needed and offered it to you.”
“And here I am,” Wynter recollected, shaking her head at her own naïveté. She then realised he hadn’t answered one of her questions from before, and so asked it again. “What are you?” she asked as she moved closer without thinking.
Marcus took Wynter’s hand and lifted it to his nose, where he drew in a sigh and smiled to himself. He seemed pleased with his newest procurement and while part of her was flattered by that notion, there was also a bigger part that was disgusted. And although she actually already knew the answer, she needed him to say it.
“Some of our kind call themselves vampires. Nosferatu. Creatures of the night who dine on the blood of humans to keep themselves immortal. I suppose that is kind of apt,” he said, confirming her suspicions. “But to be something so widely fantasised about and immortalised in fiction seems uncouth to me. I wish to remain more mysterious. Better the myth than the cliché.”
Wynter wanted to make some joke about the way he’d passed his reveal off like some suave and sophisticated aristocrat who hated labels. She wanted it all to be some kind of a joke, and yet, she could say nothing. Marcus was touching her again and, like before, she was desperate for more. She was drawn to that touch and wanted him to tell her more just so that she could hear his penetrating voice while they were still connected. “Against all odds, you want to give yourself to me, don’t you, Wynter?” Marcus asked, and it was clear he knew exactly what she was feeling towards him.
“Yes,” she hissed, nodding.
“You’re already so compliant. So willing. I’m afraid I shall have to accept sooner than I’d anticipated,” he replied as he turned her hand over and pressed the inside of her wrist to his nose before inhaling deeply. “But don’t you want to know more first? Aren’t there answers you still seek?”
“Of course,” she told him, panting, “but still, I feel like I want to give you what you need first.” She couldn’t understand why she even felt that way, or how the scenario itself was somehow so erotic and enticing, but her entire body was screaming for Marcus to take a bite.
She wondered if perhaps the media and its obsession with romanticising the supernatural had affected how she saw him after all, but then and there, Marcus really was beautiful. The most stunning creature she had ever seen and she was more than ready to give him all of herself. Every last drop.
Wynter grew curious as she waited. She wanted to see him take the bite. To prove to herself that this was real. But also, she was desperate to feel it as he took her blood inside of himself, and let out a little soft sigh of relief when he finally opened his mouth.
She expected teeth, like in the movies, but instead it was his tongue that first ma
de contact with her flesh and she was surprised to feel him lick her. As he pressed the tip of his tongue down onto her skin, it was like shards of glass were piercing her flesh. Strangely, she enjoyed the sting of it, which was quickly sucked away when Marcus closed his mouth over the wound and began taking long draws of her blood.
Wynter cried out as a head rush hit her, but her shock was quickly outlived when it was suddenly replaced by sheer euphoria.
Her body came alive and she felt powerful. Like she’d just been given some kind of an epic high no other substance could remotely match. She counted four gulps and then he slowed his pulls and eventually lifted his head away, licking the wound clean before turning to look back at her and breaking their contact.
Wynter had that same feeling of emptiness she’d had when he’d stopped his kiss earlier and a small voice in the back of her mind told her it had to be part of his power. He was able to lure humans to their deaths not only willingly, but also begging for it.
And now she was under his spell too. “Tell me,” she croaked as she inspected the cut left on her inner wrist from his bite. Wynter had expected bite indentations or perhaps a graze from his glass-like tongue, but instead there was only the tiniest of marks. Like a paper cut. “Tell me more about what you are, and why you’ve chosen me to be part of your empire?”
Marcus set his gaze upon her again and began a slow meander back over to the window, and once again she saw his eyes burn brightly, boring into hers.
Wynter felt like following him, the desire to be close again almost claiming her, but she forced herself to remember who she was and what she’d come to his club for. She’d gone there for a job and the new life that came with it. She had come to change her entire future and had gotten her wish. With or without her infatuation with Mr Cole, she needed to know the rest of what he’d been so willing to tell her before she’d unceremoniously thrown herself at his mercy and begged him to bite her.
And so, she sat back and waited for him to reveal all. With a clear head at last, she was ready to see the bigger picture. Not just what he wanted from her, but what he expected of their future together.
The Beginning Page 3
