“But, my lord,” Marcella began, however Marcus cut her off.
“But nothing. I appreciate your candour as always, however you must learn to hold your tongue when you’re proven incorrect,” he chided.
Marcella did the right thing—she backed down. She saved them both from having an argument about who was right or wrong, and Marcus was pleased to see she’d not taken her place by his side for granted. He could lock her away just like he had her mother when the time had come for her to drift out of his life and leave the young witch in his care. He was her master. Her tutor. Her mentor. But more than that, he was her everything and Marcella ought to remember so. “What’s next?” he asked, giving her the opportunity to prove herself to him again, and the Priestess did not disappoint.
“You’re needed at the new club tomorrow to oversee the final arrangements, but that can be done in one day. Afterwards, why not take the opportunity to visit the other new sites? Take her with you. Let her know just why those of your kind require so many new slaves. Teach her why it’s important she remains loyal to you, rather than be thrown to the masses.”
“You mean, show her the hordes?”
Marcella nodded and a wicked grin spread across her lips.
“She’ll soon come running to you once she sees the truth about what happens when the vampire race you so carefully control are left without proper guidance. Make it clear that if she runs, then it’s towards a worse danger. Better she stay with the devil she knows, so to speak.”
Marcus nodded and he too grinned from ear to ear. The Priestess was right.
If Wynter saw for herself just how terrifying the truth was about the state of his kind she would think twice about trying to evade him again. The vampires had needed a leader and he had taken it upon himself to provide it, but at the same time only those of wealth were afforded the lifestyle his clubs allowed. The rest fed on the scraps their sires threw them and they had become wild, feral creatures of the night because of it. Certainly beings no young woman such as Wynter should ever hope to come across unprotected.
It was indeed a case of her being better off sticking with the evil master she despised, and Marcus was determined to let her see so with her own eyes.
***
Wynter was just finishing up for the night when she got a knock on her office door. She’d hoped to find Warren on the other side, or perhaps Marcella like she had the morning before, but instead it was Bryn. He was standing tall and with that air of arrogance about him she had come to dislike, but Wynter still smiled politely and greeted him regardless. Her personal opinion of him aside, the fact still remained that she would have to work with the guy for the foreseeable future. So, rather than groan and make a comment about how she was now officially off the clock, she beckoned him inside her office, but kept the door open.
“Mr Cole has asked that you go to his office before leaving. He has a favour to ask of you,” Bryn told her, and this time she couldn’t fight her reaction. Wynter knew all too well about Marcus and his favours and wasn’t too keen on walking into some kind of trap.
“What favour?” she tried, but Bryn just shook his head. He either didn’t know or wasn’t allowed to tell. Either way, Wynter knew there was only one option. She had to go up there, and with the best will in the world, told herself it really was just going to be for a minute or two before she’d be on her merry way again.
She wanted her home and her bed. Some peace and quiet and, most importantly, some alone time.
Wynter gathered her things and plucked her coat from the hook behind the door. Rather than put it on, she hung it over one arm and hooked her handbag over the other. Bryn was out the door and down the hall before she’d even finished locking up, and had even had the courtesy to call the lift for her so it was sat open at the ready when she reached it.
She felt like calling him a job’s worth. Felt like snickering and telling him to stop being such an arse kisser, but instead she forced herself to say nothing at all. Not even a polite thank you.
The lift arrived on the fourth floor within a few seconds and the doors opened to reveal Jack, who was standing over by the window looking down at the street below. Marcus, however, was nowhere to be found and so Wynter took a few tentative steps inside before leaving her things in one of the chairs around the meeting table.
She watched Jack, who had to know she was there, but hadn’t turned to greet her at all. He seemed lost in his own thoughts and away with them a little. Nothing like the cocky and arrogant man she’d met when she’d first started the job. Something had happened to him, she just didn’t know what.
The sound of the elevator arriving again then made Wynter jump in shock and she turned on her heel to see who was just about to join them. Joanna stepped out of it and she had the smuggest of smiles on her face, but only until she saw the other two managers there as well. Wynter wondered if she’d thought Marcus had summoned her to feed him, and got her answer when Joanna shuffled nervously to button up her blouse and cover herself a little.
Wynter wanted to tell her she could have him. To inform Joanna of all the ways she despised their boss and would gladly never let him feed from her again given the chance. But she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t break her promise and also allow for her façade to be uncovered. She had chosen to live this lie and knew she couldn’t go back on it now.
“Where’s our master?” Joanna demanded and Wynter ignored her. She instead went over to where a small fridge held bottled drinks and snacks to keep Marcus’s workers hydrated and refuelled, and she plucked herself a bottle of ice cold water. She was still gulping it down when he finally appeared from inside his now fully privately partitioned area and grinned around at them.
“So glad you could all make it,” he then chimed, “please, follow me.”
Marcus walked back to where he’d come from and Wynter’s stomach began to churn. She didn’t want to go back there. She wanted to be back in that lift and on her way home already, and yet, there was nothing she could do to refuse him. Like always, Marcus was going to get his damn way, whether she agreed with it or not.
Joanna practically ran for the door, while Jack’s pace was far slower and matched Wynter’s. She let the pair of them go on ahead and then hovered in the doorway, watching them from a few feet away while she made up her mind about whether to follow them or not. “Wynter, come.” Marcus held out his hand to her and she scowled back at him. He had no such power to command her body like that and they both knew it, but he was exerting a different level of control. One she couldn’t ignore or fight against if she wanted to keep up with the pretence of her still being under his spell.
She did as he commanded and took the seat Marcus offered her beside Jack and Joanna on the new sofa. Only when they were each perched beneath his gaze did he speak again. “The four of us are going to be doing some travelling,” he told them.
Joanna reacted with a shriek of delight and she even clapped her hands excitedly, like some teenager who’d just been told the next school trip was to fucking Lapland. Jack simply nodded to Marcus and otherwise sat motionless and silent. Wynter shook her head but bit her tongue. What she wanted to say about his offer would be best done in private.
“When? Where?” Joanna asked, still bouncing in her seat.
“Tomorrow,” Marcus replied and he put his hand out for Joanna to take before pulling her up out of her seat. “Now, go home and pack some things, and bring them with you to work this evening. We leave this time tomorrow.” Joanna nodded profusely and then skipped away, and Marcus then turned his attention to Jack, whom Wynter knew was working his overtime days so probably wouldn’t be in any rush to try and go. She was surprised to find him quite the opposite.
“I’ll make a list of the things I need and head home right away, Mr Cole. I’ll be back in time to feed you before six o’clock.”
“Yes, you do that,” Marcus agreed and then Jack left without another word.
Wynter was left gobsmacked. She knew for s
ure now how their vampire boss really did treat them each so differently. Jack was, for all intents and purposes, on duty for the day, and yet he’d been allowed to go home? That wasn’t fair at all, and when they were alone, Wynter told Marcus so.
“Why is it Jack gets to go home during the day? I thought he was feeding you today?”
“Simple,” Marcus answered with a nonchalant wave of his hand, “it’s because I only usually feed from him once or twice. Perhaps a pint or so, nothing more. I only need a little really.”
Wynter opened and closed her mouth in shock. How dare he take so much from her and so little from the others? Again that voice was ringing in her head about how it wasn’t fair. None of this was.
“So it’s true?” she demanded, recoiling when Marcus sat down beside her, pinning her in. “You treat the women differently to the men.”
“I suppose,” he answered without a care, nor did he seem to feel the need to apologise for it. “But Joanna is different as well. You know how much she cares for me, but it’s so profound that her blood is sickly sweet. Some days just a sip will suffice.”
Wynter shook her head, glowering at Marcus. All the bites he’d given her and all the blood he had taken. He’d almost drained her dry on more than one occasion and now she had to hear this? It made her sick.
“If only I loved you as much as she does,” she mused aloud, “you might leave me alone too.”
“I’m counting on you to never love me, Wynter,” he told her with a small chuckle, “and if you ever do, I’ll soon beat that love right out of you. That’s what I do to Joanna when she’s been naughty or has displeased me. I force her to fear me. I beat the sense back into her and then drink my fill while she’s broken and beaten down. But I don’t need to do that with you, do I? You despise me and reek of loathing and bitterness every minute of every day. It’s intoxicating,” Marcus added, and he breathed her in as if to make it clear he could sense her hatred even still.
All of her instincts told her to run. To flee and never return, but anxiety speared in her gut at the sheer thought of running from him. Marcus wouldn’t let her go, she knew this, but she would continue to fight, even if that was what he wanted.
“I’m going home, Marcus,” Wynter told him as she fought her way out of her seat and to her feet. “I’ll grab some things for the trip and bring them with me this evening, just like the others. And I expect to be paid overtime for while we are away.”
Marcus burst out laughing and shook his head as though she’d not only amused him greatly, but also surprised him. Wynter scowled down at him and balled her hands into fists. “Today is not my overtime day and neither is tomorrow, or the next two. You cannot expect me to stay.”
“It’s not that,” he explained, although still chuckling to himself. “It’s just that you are too innocuous for your own good sometimes, Wynter.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” she cried.
Marcus was up and out of his seat in less than a second and he stormed forwards, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. Wynter wanted to stand her ground but she couldn’t. Her feet moved backwards one step at a time in retreat and before she knew it she’d hit the wall behind.
With a grin, he boxed her in with his hands either side and then pressed his body against hers. He was taking deep, languid breaths and she knew he was still relishing in her bitterness and fear.
“What I mean is that you are home, my sweet. This is your home now.”
“No fucking way,” Wynter cried, trying to fight his hold, but Marcus remained where he was and shook his head as though still highly amused by her.
“Your house has been sold and your things cleared out. I’ve taken the liberty of putting them in storage for you to sort at a later date,” he explained without even a hint of a care for having invaded her personal space and taking measures she had not okayed.
“You can’t do that!” she screamed, punching her still balled fists against his chest in her angst. Neither her pleas nor her punches were getting her anywhere though and Wynter felt like crying. She wanted to scream and bellow at him some more for overstepping the mark by a huge amount, but she actually felt weaker by the moment. She was beginning to wilt under the pressure he insisted on piling up on her.
She was tired and angry, and tired of being angry all the time. All she wanted was some peace and quiet and space from him. Couldn’t he at least give her that?
“I can do whatever I want, my sweet,” Marcus countered with a smile, “if I say you’re staying here permanently, then that’s what you’ll do. End of discussion.”
“Then I’ll run away,” she tried, but it was an empty threat.
“And who would help you, hmm? The boy under my spell? The Priestess whose loyalty is pledged solely to me?” Marcus put his palms around her shoulders and squeezed, watching her intently with that sinister smile still lingering on his pale face. “Face it, if you leave then I shall consider your actions as an act of war. Our deal will be broken and I’ll go right downstairs and snap Warren’s neck in front of all his subordinates and make them watch. And then I’ll go after each and every one of your friends and family. My men will defile them and mutilate their bodies beyond recognition, and it will be all your fault…”
Wynter’s heart broke at the sheer thought of it, and she knew Marcus could tell because his handsome face spread into another of his awful smiles. “There it is. See? I don’t even have to torture you, Wynter. You think you’re brave and tough, but look how easily you break. Now, go to your room.” He pointed to the bedroom she’d been confined to the day before and Wynter shook her head no. She didn’t want to be locked away in there all day again.
“No, please,” she tried.
“Shall I make you?” Marcus challenged in response, but she shook her head again. She didn’t have the energy to fight any longer and knew she couldn’t handle being punished.
“I made you a deal and intend to keep my promise. I’ll come back, just like I did last week. Please, leave me be. Let me have some freedom,” she whimpered as a last ditch attempt to sway him.
Marcus seemed about to cut her down again but then stopped. He eyed her for a couple of seconds, as though reading more than just her emotions, and then seemed to make up his mind.
“I won’t lock you in,” he countered, “bar my comings and goings, the office door will remain locked and will not be opened again until six o’clock. You are to remain here and are free to use the facilities and kitchen, however I must insist you sleep in your bed and not on the sofa.”
“And the bedroom door?” she had to ask, needing to hear him promise her that he wasn’t going to lock her inside again.
“Will remain unlocked—for now.”
This wasn’t what Wynter wanted at all but she was too exhausted to argue any more. She promised herself that when they returned from the trip she would find a way to get back home and away from Marcus’s reach day and night. She was entitled to her space and would fight for it, but not today. She desperately needed rest and was willing to concede if it meant she got it.
“I’ll stay, for the time being,” she told him, “but you’re going to have to learn to trust me. I refuse to stay locked up in this club day and night. That wasn’t the deal.”
“We’ll see…”
Twelve
Wynter slept almost the entire day and while it was nice for Marcus to be able to get a decent amount of work done in the knowledge she was safely locked away, he couldn’t help but continue to think of her. He wondered what she might be dreaming of, or if perhaps those dreams were nightmares.
Did she really despise him through and through? She’d told him so and he’d acted in ways to ensure it, but there was still that niggling sense of wonder in the pit of his stomach that told him he was taking the harder route by refusing his feelings and not following his soul’s desire by merging with her.
At least if he did, Wynter would be his until death parted them. No other would te
ar them asunder and he wouldn’t have to try so damn hard to make her hate him, because he would instead revel in her adoration and return it tenfold. But it just wasn’t his way. Part of him considered reaching out to Camilla and satisfying his carnal hunger with her in a bid to distract himself, but each time he reached for his phone to call upon her, he put it back down.
Jack arrived back at the office early as arranged, and Marcus led him through to the back rooms and deposited him on the sofa where the three managers had been sat earlier that morning. Wynter was up and in the shower, and while Jack was clearly surprised to find she’d stayed the day there, he didn’t ask any questions. He was a good boy like that, and while he saw all, he also didn’t feel the need to interfere. Just another reason why Marcus was so fond of him, even still.
Marcus joined him and snapped his fingers to command his Blood Slave to tend to him. He didn’t need to say a word. Jack did as was needed and repositioned himself on the sofa so that he could offer his wrist to Marcus for feeding. He accepted, and sliced through his flesh to the veins beneath before taking the first gulp of metallic goodness into his mouth.
He then swirled the blood around his tongue, savouring the taste and sensing all the innermost emotions Jack was dealing with. His slave was still yearning for the touch of his Priestess, but he would never know her body again and Marcus could tell Jack was struggling to come to terms with it. He wanted her and often thought of the virgin he had made love to, having imagined her tight body around his while taking care of his personal needs in private, rather than with their master watching over them. He, like Joanna, had no one he wanted enough to take her place. No one more than the object of his desire and so nothing else would do. Only masturbation and his days spent wallowing in his misery.
As Marcus drew a second gulp, Wynter emerged from the bathroom dressed only in a towel. She jumped in shock at the sight of the pair of them and looked like she might be about to apologise, but then evidently thought better of it and scuttled to her room without comment.
Round Two Page 10
