Round Two

by Eden Wildblood

  “My lady,” he said in greeting.

  “My lord,” she answered, “what might I do for you?”

  “Well, you can start by telling me why you decided to place a locator spell on our dear Wynter?” he replied, and knew there was a snide edge to his tone, but didn’t rectify it. Marcus had hardly shouted at or had to raise his voice to his Priestess before, but when it came to his new favourite, he was ready to do whatever it took to ensure she remained his.

  The Priestess had gotten close to her though. She had made love to her as he’d drunk from Wynter’s vein. She had kissed and fondled her. Tasted that glorious body and elicited orgasms while having plenty of her own. Marcus knew it had been odd, the Priestess coming forward for such an explorative task, but she had. And, in the form of her usual guise, Marcella, she and Wynter had sparked quite a connection. One Marcus hoped was for his benefit, and not his Priestess’s.

  “I don’t trust her,” the witch answered. She had always been honest with Marcus, often brutally so, and he had no reason not to believe her still, so he waited for her to elaborate further before he spoke again. “She will return to you each night and remain here the three days you’ve agreed, but I do not believe she will have your interests at heart in the days between. I have seen numerous visions of her future. Some catastrophic. Others wondrous. I do not know for sure which path Wynter will take, but I am certain I must keep watch.”

  “And will you take action should I need you to?” Marcus demanded, stepping closer. He gave her some credit, she did not step away. Not even when he was so close he could hear her heart pounding in her chest.

  “Always,” she answered honestly, “and I will watch her on your behalf, my lord. I shall guide her to do your bidding and remain loyal.”

  “Then how is it she knows about the merging?” Marcus bellowed, his hand shooting up to her throat. Again, his Priestess did not back away. He felt nothing but her servitude and steadfast loyalty emanating from her and she even lifted her hands to remove the hood shrouding her face.

  Her deep brown eyes drank him in and Marcus yanked his hand away from her neck as if it had been burned. He then placed it upon her cheek with a gentle hold. “Tell me why you showed her.”

  “She is entitled to see, just as you are, what the future holds. I showed her but two potential outcomes of your liaison. The first was the one I hope for the most.”

  “A future in which our souls have merged and she has been turned?”

  “Of course. I will perform her ceremony myself.”

  Jealousy flooded through him and Marcus had to fight the urge to lash out at his Priestess again. Did she want that solely so she too could remain by Wynter’s side? Did she have plans to steal her away and keep her for herself?

  Marcus went to open his mouth to ask, when she cut him off. “Stop this charade, my lord. You want her, so take her. None of this is for my own personal desire. Wynter is yours and yours alone, but only if you accept your fate.”

  “And what of the lover you warned me she would choose over me?” he growled.

  “A male of merit, my lord. Not I, nor any other female. Be warned, should their souls merge, you will forever regret it.”

  His Priestess then bowed and left him, leaving Marcus seething.

  Warren. It had to be him. No one else had turned Wynter’s head. Not a single human had made her feel anything more than passing attraction. Not David. Not even Marcella. But with that burly geek, Wynter was a bundle of mixed emotions. He’d been able to sense them himself and knew the feelings were mutual. Warren wanted her too, but the foolish boy didn’t know that she had given up her freedom for his sake, and Wynter had made him swear to it that he never would.

  That didn’t mean he couldn’t toy with him though.

  Marcus left the office before Wynter had even emerged from her shower. He trusted that she’d stay there and use the time for a well-earned rest, and so headed down to the same club floor he had taken her to the previous day. His clients were lining up at the ready for their feeds, and each nodded to him respectfully as he passed. Some reeled with admiration for his stature, while others were envious, perhaps even violently so. He simply smiled. They could try and overthrow him if they so pleased. Marcus had thwarted many a foe over the years and of course, more arose with every passing decade. Their kind all wanted power. They craved it over their prey and coveted it in their everyday lives. Marcus was one of the only vampires who made a fortune feeding them, while not having to pay a single penny for his own Blood Slaves. He was master of all that he saw, and then some.

  He was also clever and cunning. He had files regarding the lives of every vampire in his extensive list of clients, and would find ways to bring them down should they so much as try to rise up against him.

  But not today. Right now, there was only one person he wanted to bring down. He knew where he wanted to go. To the same ring as before, and to the same slave.

  “Mr Cole, what a pleasant surprise,” one of his burly human guards said in greeting. He had a device in his palm that held the timetable for the day’s bookings, and Marcus put his hand out for it. It was the man’s and the other day staffs’ job to oversee the successful deliverance of the slaves for his kind to feed from, and they had been briefed never to relinquish the device to any vampire, all except him. Many of his kind coveted their technology, and so the guards themselves were warded. Their blood was poison and if any vampire took so much as one drop, they would die a slow and painful death that no witch on Earth could provide an antidote to. It was his safeguard, and yet the boy had handed it over to his ruthless ruler without hesitation. He knew better than to argue with the master of his fate, after all.

  Marcus grinned and peered down at the list. Today was Warren’s lucky day. He had two vampire opponents lined up for later that morning, followed by a nice big gap so that he could rest. Well, that wasn’t going to happen. In fact, he was going to need the rest sooner than anticipated because Marcus had plans for him.

  “Send Warren down now,” he barked, and the guard relayed the message via radio to the team who looked after the slaves on the first floor of the club.

  He arrived just minutes later and approached the pair of them with a frown.

  “Mr Cole?” he said, and was right to be uneasy. “Has an extra fight been added?” Marcus nodded and then ushered Warren towards the boxing ring. He climbed in and went over to his corner, and then silence fell as Marcus climbed up after him.

  “Yes, little rabbit,” he taunted him while wearing his most wicked of smiles. “I told you you’re my new favourite, didn’t I? So let’s have some fun together.”

  Marcus removed his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt.

  “Sir, I can’t fight you,” Warren pleaded, but Marcus continued to prepare. When he was ready, he stepped into the centre of the ring and used his power over Warren to lure him closer.

  “Try,” Marcus whispered with a bright smile, even though he knew it would be torture for Warren to do so. “Try for me. For your wounded pride. For Wynter and everything I have stolen from her…”

  They were nose-to-nose and yet still, Warren refused to strike, so Marcus threw the first punch. With a blow strong enough to break a lesser man in two, he sent the boy flying backwards into the ropes, where he crumbled into a heap and curled into a ball on the floor of the ring.

  Marcus grinned, but found he wasn’t all that satisfied. The hex was too strong. He wouldn’t fight back, not unless the Priestess lifted it, and Marcus wasn’t about to go that far just to get a good fight out of him.

  Delivering him with a good beating would have to do instead. He summoned Warren back to him again and then rained down blows upon him, leaving him covered in blood and bruises, but still breathing. Still alive. For now.

  ***

  Strangely, Wynter wasn’t tired after her shower. She got changed into one of the horrendous frilly nightdresses Marcus always stocked and gave her scruffy hair a few scrunches into messy waves,
and then she padded out into the office but found he had left her alone. She wasn’t expecting that, so thought for a minute what she could do to pass the time. Marcus wasn’t exactly the type of guy to have books at the ready or a television, so she decided she’d go down to her office instead and retrieve her handbag so she could catch up with her friends via her mobile phone. She’d only be gone a few minutes and wouldn’t leave the building so figured it’d be okay.

  Wynter was as quick as possible. In and out in a minute, but still made sure to properly lock her office behind her on the way back out to the lift. She was just finishing up when she turned and found David watching her from down the hall. He had a sort of smug smile that made a shiver creep down her spine. And that was the perfect word for how he was coming across—like some sort of creep.

  He approached at speed and Wynter groaned and moved as quickly as she could for the elevator. There, she hit the call button and then lifted a hand in an attempt to stop him from getting any nearer.

  “Not now, David,” she tried when that didn’t work. What happened to their agreement to put things between them on hold and remain friends? He came to a stop just beside the lift and when she climbed inside, he wedged his foot in the way of the sensor to stop the doors closing behind her. “Please, I need to get back upstairs,” she begged, hugging her body in an attempt to cover up. Damn, she wished she’d gotten changed into something more appropriate than just the nightdress. It was thin enough that he could probably see right through it, and the last thing she wanted was for David to still believe he might have a chance with her.

  “What were you doing? Sneaking around?” he asked her with a snide edge to his tone. So, all niceties were clearly out of the window now that she had given him the brush off all week, but she wasn’t going to let him upset her. She’d dealt with creeps before, and scowled up at him in the same way she always did with those who’d tried it on with her in the past.

  “In my own office?” she retorted, and added an eye roll. “Gimmie a fucking break.”

  David laughed her remark off and then actually seemed to relax a little. He still had both hands either side of the elevator door though, blocking it entirely, and he leaned back and looked up and down the corridor behind him. It appeared as if he might be about to walk away, but then he apparently changed his mind. A dark look swept across his face as an idea seemed to come to him.

  Using his grip on the frame, David propelled himself into the elevator with Wynter and he had her pinned to the wall behind in a second, licking his lips while staring down into her face. This wasn’t what she wanted. Not in the slightest. Being stuck down an otherwise empty corridor in a lift that was about to take them up to a just as empty office was not what she’d ever imagined could happen. Not on Marcus’s watch. But, it seemed this was happening, and when the lift began to ascend, Wynter panicked.

  David’s boyish charm was gone. The soft and tender way he’d had with her at first was long forgotten. All that remained was a predator, and one who she didn’t particularly feel like entertaining the advances of. “Back off, David. Give me some space.”

  “I did,” he growled and then pressed himself even tighter against her, invading Wynter’s personal space on more than just an overbearing level, but a dangerous one. “I left you alone all week and instead of you getting your shit together, you just grew closer to him,” David added, pointing upwards. She knew the gesture meant Marcus, and she wanted to laugh at the sheer stupidity of the man. Everything she and their vampire boss shared had been thanks to his hex. Even now, their only tender moments were because of the affect his bite had on her, and she knew there was no real love between them. There probably never would be. “But you owe me, Wynter. I took care of you, now it’s time you took care of me—”

  He then gripped her hands and held them by her head as he lunged for her, kissing her roughly while prodding her with his rock hard cock in the belly. Wynter tried to fight him off, but he was stronger than she’d imagined, and by the time the lift arrived on the fourth floor, she was firmly in his grasp.

  David emerged, holding her by the throat, and he looked around, clearly checking to see if Marcus was lurking there. He was still gone, and Wynter cursed him for being absent. The one time she needed him and he was nowhere to be found. Go figure.

  “He’ll kill you for this,” she spat, but David didn’t seem to care.

  He flung her face down onto the rough carpet floor and lifted her flimsy nightgown to reveal her nakedness beneath. Wynter kicked and screamed against his roving hands, trying desperately to fend him off, but he just held her down by the back of the neck and pressed her cheek against the hard ground.

  She couldn’t move.

  She could hardly even breathe, and cried out when the realisation hit that there was nothing she could do to stop him from doing whatever the hell he wanted to next.

  But then, he was gone. His harsh hold on her suddenly absent. Not just let go, but ripped away as David was plucked from atop her by force. It was as if some kind of giant hand, like a grabber in one of those arcade games at the beach, had ripped him up into the air and taken him away.

  Wynter was sure it had to be Marcus having come to her aid at last, and she clambered up onto her knees and scooted forward so she could get out of their way. Trembling, she scrambled over by the wall and tucked herself into a ball as she tried to hide and block out what would surely be about to ensue, but then all she could hear was the thumping of her heart in her ears. Nothing else. No fight. No telling off. Just, nothing…

  When she eventually lifted her head and peered around to try and figure out what was happening, David was no longer there, but neither was Marcus. And it didn’t appear to be some cruel joke or a ploy from David to make her think the ordeal was over. He genuinely had been removed from the situation, or so it seemed.

  A garbled groan then alerted her senses again and Wynter began to whimper. Of course he couldn’t have disappeared entirely, and she began looking around for any sign of him, but there was nothing.

  “Help… please,” then came a clearer groan, and Wynter finally managed to follow the sound. She peered up and found David at last. Like something out of a horror movie, he was stuck to the high ceiling right above where he’d just been holding her down moments before. That was the only way she could describe it. He was lying flat against the dark ceiling tiles against all laws of gravity, and looked like he was being crushed up into them by force. Wynter whimpered and gazed up at him, but she didn’t move or try to help him. All she could do was stare in absolute horror.

  David had to have been propelled up there by some serious force. He was bleeding from his ears and nose thanks to the impact to the back of his head, plus his right leg was bending the wrong way, clearly broken. He had to be in so much pain, but she had no idea what to do, or whether she was capable of doing anything at all. Or if she even wanted to.

  He opened his mouth like he was going to plead for help again, when he suddenly went flying back down to the ground with an almighty crack, as though whatever forces holding him up had let go just as suddenly as when they’d first grabbed him.

  Wynter heaved at the sight, and knew the awful cracking sound she’d heard had to have been that of more of bones breaking, and she full on gagged at the sight of his crumpled body laying still on the ground. Her instinct was to rush to his aid, and yet there was another voice echoing through her skull. One that told her to let the son of a bitch die. That he deserved it.

  She made a lame attempt to sit up and move toward him, as though that would make her feel better about wanting to leave him to die. As if she could convince herself she’d tried and how her conscience was clear.

  Before she could move another inch though, David was launched back up to the ceiling, but he didn’t remain there. A second later, he plummeted back down, and so on. It was as if he were inside a box that someone was shaking. Up and down his body flew, crushing a bit more with each impact, and Wynter could do noth
ing but watch in horror as his life slowly drained from him.

  When he was nothing but a broken mess, the rattling finally stopped, as did his punishment. Silence descended and Wynter clambered backwards as far as she could. She didn’t stop until she was sat against the far wall and there, she shook back and forth, unable to take her eyes off the bloody mess before her.

  “That’s what the locator spell was for, my love,” the deep, resonating voice of the Priestess then chimed from across the room, and Wynter looked up to find the cloaked woman standing at the open end of the glass wall. She was covered from head to toe, like before, so Wynter couldn’t see her face, but she somehow knew the strange woman was smiling. She was pleased with herself, and Wynter couldn’t even begin to understand the mind of someone who’d think nothing of taking a life so violently.

  “You sensed I was in danger?” she mumbled, thinking about what the Priestess had just said.

  “Yes…”

  “So you killed him?” she cried in a shrill tone, her throat closing up as she tried to breathe and fight back her tears.

  Shock was clearly setting in, and Wynter felt herself trembling harder. The cold was seeping into her bones through her thin nightgown. Invading her, just like David had wanted to do. And just like the Priestess had successfully done with her spell.

  “Yes…” the witch replied, “you can thank me later.”

  Wynter began laughing hysterically, which then turned to tears and wailing sobs. She couldn’t speak, but knew there were no words to convey how sickened she felt.

  The Priestess simply stood and watched her come undone, and didn’t try to engage her or come closer so as to offer any form of comfort or apology. She simply observed her for a few seconds before disappearing back into the nothingness.