First Sight [Diablo Falls]
Page 5
Gwen opened her eyes and focused on Tyr, with his long hair, haunting blue eyes and sharp fangs. It was one thing to tell herself that she should judge him for who he was, not what he was. But forcing herself to calm down when the larger than life man held her captive was another thing entirely.
I can handle this. If her strange gift had taught her anything it was strength and bravery to forge ahead, despite the daunting obstacles she foresaw laying in her path.
"Why did you take me?" she managed to ask.
"Your blood is rare. I've never come across someone like you and I'm considered ancient."
Oh God. Her heart sank. He’s keeping me to snack on my 'rare' blood!
"Calm down. I took you to keep you from falling into the wrong hands," Tyr insisted.
She frowned, trying to understand what he was talking about. She knew why she was special, but never imagined her blood was special, the blood bank certainly didn’t think so.
"Are you telling me I'm the juicy bone everyone's fighting over?" Her brow furrowed.
"Well, sort of."
"So, you plan to keep me all to yourself so no one else can play with your new toy! Is that what you're telling me?" Her eyes narrowed on him.
"Dammit, that's not what I intended,” Tyr growled. “Soon, there's going to be a lot of my kind in town, and I don't want you turned into a blood slave.”
"Well that's so kind of you." She couldn't help her sarcasm even though it was probably unwise to taunt such a man.
She failed to believe Tyr was so altruistic. He’d stolen her ‘rare’ blood, otherwise he wouldn’t claim it was so special, and he’d abducted her. She didn't know when the Tyr she saw in her vision existed, the one who didn’t snarl and scowl at her. That future hardly seemed possible. The only Tyr she knew was the one in the here and now.
"That's not the only reason. Someone’s trying to hurt you, one of your own kind," Tyr quickly added.
Gwen scowled. How does he know that? Had Rob already done something she didn’t know about?
"Yeah, well I think I know who that is and I plan to take care of it,” she assured him.
"How, Gwen?” he barked, startling her with his sharp tone. “You make yourself vulnerable on a daily basis. Don't you know it’s not safe for a woman to walk home alone in the dead of night?" Tyr shook his head.
Dammit! He had a point. Her gift had lulled her into a false sense of safety and she’d grown careless. Even if she left Diablo Falls as soon as she could, without great care she could find herself at Rob’s mercy, her visions were rarely ever wrong.
"Don't worry. I will take care of Rob," he growled. Tyr said Rob like it left a foul taste in his mouth, his eyes flashing with frightening rage.
Instead of fear, she felt a sudden twinge of something she couldn't name spark inside her chest. He honestly wants to protect me.
No. Gwen shook her head, refusing to grow soft. He’s protecting me for my blood.
Wait. How does he know about Rob?
"What exactly do you mean by take care of?" she asked.
Tyr raised one eyebrow, answering her question.
So, he is a killer.
"How do you know Rob’s a danger to me? I just realized it myself."
"I told you, your blood is special. I saw the man attack you when I tasted your blood."
Tyr's admission had her reeling. Holy shit! He saw the visions in my blood. She had no clue that was even possible. No wonder he covets me.
Gwen started to laugh. Well, the visions aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.
* * *
Tyr
Gwen was laughing. He was glad it wasn't a panicked, hysterical sound.
"If you only knew how difficult and unpredictable those visions are. I've spent most of my life learning to decipher them.” She spoke like she saw such things on a regular basis.
"Don’t ever repeat that.” He gripped her arms.
Gwen flinched and Tyr realized he was clutching her too tight and had yet again snarled. He sighed, frustrated with himself as he released her.
“I'm sorry I frightened you. I'm not really cut out for this knight in shining armor thing."
"Yeah, that’s not a shock. You pretty much just barrel through, regardless of others." She scowled at him.
"What the hell does that mean?!" He reared back.
"You are so arrogant. You stole me off the street rather than approach me. I awoke, tied up in a strange car. By the way, Wagner, ‘Ride of the Valkyries’ is the kind of music a serial killer would play. Then you say next to nothing. You force me to sleep with you, then I wake up next to the king of the fucking dead!"
Gwen was talking so fast he couldn't get a word in. When she finally shut up, she was practically panting. The look of exasperation on her face was almost amusing.
“Well?” she demanded.
“Oh, is it my turn to speak?” His brows rose.
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she glared at him expectantly.
"What was I supposed to say? Hey, I'm a vampire and a bunch of my kind are going to bleed you dry because you see visions. Oh, and your coworker is going to murder you."
"But abducting and scaring me to death is so much better than taking the risk of telling me. I don't know why you even bothered, you've had this holier than thou attitude from the moment I refused to serve you that drink."
"You hated me from the second I stepped into that bar, so pardon me for having an attitude," he snarled.
Gods, the woman is frustrating.
"Maybe if you didn't look at everyone as if they were peons!" Gwen retaliated. "But now I get it. We're all just lowly humans, here to serve and feed you. You don't care if you steal me from my life, just as long as I don't fall into the wrong hands!"
"Dammit, you don't know what my kind would do to you!"
"What about you?! Who's going to protect me from you?!" Gwen yelled. "Your idea of a rescue leaves a lot to be desired. What's your plan? Do you plan on keeping me for the rest of my life? I have a life, you know."
Tyr groaned. He honestly didn't know what he was going to do. "You're staying here for now!"
Gwen screeched in frustration.
* * *
Gwen
Tyr insisted on keeping her. She didn't care how good his supposed intentions were, if that was even true.
I’m some sort of pawn to him.
"You want to keep me from the machinations of your kind, but you brought me into the belly of the beast. Are you going to watch me every moment I'm here?" she demanded.
"I have things I must attend to, but my suite is secure. No one comes in here." Tyr looked around as if reassessing his home.
His apartment was impressive, like something you'd see in a magazine. However, besides a couple pieces of artwork, the place lacked personality.
Ugh. What a beautiful prison.
"Great. So, you plan on locking me in here like some dirty little secret. Nice!" If he thinks I’m going to play the good little captive, he’s dead wrong. I'll teach him he isn't the only one who can be demanding. "I'm hungry. Do you plan on feeding me? Us lowly humans must eat food, you know."
"Yes, of course." Tyr nodded.
Tyr got up, grabbed his phone and strolled toward the door. The man was unbelievably tall and imposing. His tight ass flexed beneath his boxers as he retreated. Her gaze traveled up his muscular back to his broad shoulders. There was a massive tattoo of an eagle emblazoned from shoulder to shoulder. He truly was a Viking god. She wanted to climb him and…
Fucking hell! Gwen pulled the covers over her head and groaned. She couldn’t believe herself.
“Nope. Nope.”
She threw off the blankets, got up and marched toward the bathroom. Gwen glanced down at the oversized shirt he loaned her. It smelled like him, musky sandalwood. She closed her eyes as she breathed it in. The scent was distracting. She opened her eyes and scowled.
"I'm not wearing your giant clothes the whole time I'm forced to be
here. Get me my clothes," she hollered after him before slamming the bathroom door.
Chapter Seven
Tyr
Tyr glared at the tacky folding chairs that replaced the wrecked ones around his dining table as Gwen ate. For once the woman was quiet, except he didn't trust her calm demeanor. Although she didn’t have a complete meltdown when she discovered what he was and why he brought her here, he didn't believe for a single second that she was meekly accepting any of it.
What a mess. Tyr rubbed his chin in agitation then winced feeling his smooth skin. He’d botched trimming his beard and had to shave it all off. After that he didn’t dare attempt to cut his hair. The mood he was in he’d end up with bald spots. I should’ve had Ethan do it when he brought her food.
Ethan, one his human familiars, brought a selection of sandwiches and snacks while Gwen was in the bathroom using up all the hot water in the tri-state area. Their clan didn’t have more than a handful of familiars since they could pose problems. And their reasons for serving his kind were varied, some enjoyed being bitten, others wanted to be turned. He didn’t really care, just as long as they were trustworthy. Actually, he knew Ethan’s reason. The human had a thing for Sonja.
I’m shocked Sonja doesn’t eat him alive. And he wasn’t referring to Sonja bleeding the man dry.
The human and Kindred were an odd pair. Even when mortal, Sonja was wild and untamed, running with a biker gang. Where Ethan was a bookworm, finishing top of his class at Stanford. Yet somehow they worked.
Tyr sent Ethan a message to also order the alcohol for the coming gathering, while the man was out getting clothes for Gwen. He sighed when that reminded him of another problem.
“What’s the pin to unlock your cell?” He pulled Gwen’s phone out of his pocket.
“Why?” she eyed him suspiciously.
“I’m going to text your job that you need to leave town on a family emergency.”
“Not happening.” Gwen shoved another chip into her mouth and chewed in agitation.
It wasn’t a shock that she was being difficult.
“Fine. I will just have Owen and Landon killed.”
Her eyes widened and she choked. He reached over and patted her back.
“You are a bastard!” she coughed.
“I’ve been called worse. I’ve done worse.” He shrugged.
He had no plans on going through with the threat, but Gwen didn’t need to know that.
“1024,” she bit out.
Tyr could feel her angry gaze as he unlocked her phone and sent the message. She huffed when he put it back in his pocket. He didn’t glance up, but continued working on his iPad instead. If looks could kill, he’d undoubtedly be dead.
"So why are a bunch of you gathering in Diablo Falls?" Gwen broke the silence after a few minutes.
"I gather my Sovereigns roughly every five years."
"In Diablo Falls?"
"No. I recently moved here, but I wanted to be in my territory for this meeting." He glanced up, wondering what her angle was.
"Having trouble?" she asked then popped a grape into her mouth.
She had obviously seen Devon being ashed during the meeting, like he had.
"I am the leader of the northern continent. There is always trouble of some sort that has to be dealt with."
"I see." Gwen had this smug look on her face.
"What do you see?" He roved her expression, questioning if her comment had double meaning considering her gift.
"You always have this ‘I'm in charge, listen to me, do what I say,’ attitude." Gwen mimicked him using a gruff voice. "I assumed you were some type of CEO, apparently I was right."
"I do run several businesses, but being leader of the Kindred is more about age, strength and intellect."
"Humble much?" she asked with raised brows.
"No, and if I was, I would've been killed a long time ago."
Gwen had no clue how rough the Kindred were. It was very much survival of the fittest. Often times fledglings were killed just because they were too tedious to deal with. A fledgling had little control over its blood lust, and posed a risk to any city if left to their vices. That was one of the reasons they were having trouble out West, too many lawless fledgling clans were popping up. And whoever was siring them was either a reckless fool too weak-hearted to take care of their mistake, or worse, intentionally stirring the pot.
"Don't you have any laws?" Her brow furrowed.
"I am the law."
Gwen grunted incredulously.
"The only real rule is to stay under the human's radar. There are, of course, things that are considered socially acceptable among our kind, but it varies from region to region," he explained.
"Such as?" Her expression turned curious.
"It is considered…” he paused, distracted by Gwen eating a strawberry.
It was erotic the way she placed the tip between her lips then sank her teeth into the juicy flesh. His gaze traveled from her moist red lips to the pulse in her neck.
Bad idea, Tyr. He looked away.
“It’s considered unforgivably rude to enter another's territory without permission,” he quickly finished, grabbing a piece of fruit to quench his sudden hunger.
"Why do you feed on humans if you can eat?"
"Food is a pleasure, but doesn't nourish us the same way blood does." He bit into the juicy strawberry, imagining it was something else.
"Doesn't that stir up problems with a bunch of you going around bleeding people dry?"
Tyr smiled. Gwen was curious and worried for her own kind.
"This is one of those rules we have. Generally, we don't bleed someone dry. It’s considered poor taste in this day and age. There are blood banks, criminals, goth clubs, all sorts of ways to survive without wreaking absolute carnage.”
"Goth clubs. That sounds a little cliché," Gwen snorted.
Juice dripped down her chin and he felt tempted to lick it, but she quickly wiped it away.
"It is, but we don’t judge. If someone is willing to share their blood, who are we to complain?" He shrugged.
"Doesn't that sort of ruin your whole undercover rule?" Gwen tilted her head.
"No, the host walks away with a pleasurable memory but doesn't remember us."
"Oh, so you hypnotize them. Is that how you kidnapped me?" Her gaze narrowed on him.
"No."
He wasn't about to admit he had to knock her out because she was immune to his compulsion. Not only would it piss her off, but she didn't need to know she had more power than she was already aware of.
* * *
Gwen
The things she was learning were hard to process, since up until today vampires were just a myth. As daunting as it was, knowledge was power. If she had any hope of getting out of here, she needed to learn as much as she could about her captor.
"So, is the whole burning up in sunlight a myth?" She looked toward the open windows. It was almost eight, and late spring, so it was still light out.
"It’s not a myth." Tyr stood up and walked into the stream of light. He held out his hand and let it drift in and out of the beam. "But these windows have filters and I'm too old to be bothered by it anymore."
"Exactly how old are you?"
"About 2000 years, although I’ve lost count."
"Holy shit, you’re kidding me?" Someone that old—anything that old—was staggering.
Tyr raised one brow, giving her a look that said he wasn’t joking.
"Now, tell me about your odd abilities. How far does it extend?" Tyr asked.
"Weren't you the one who said it puts me at risk? So, wouldn't it be unwise to divulge that sort of thing?" she replied incredulously, though not truly surprised by the question.
Tyr claimed good intentions, but actions spoke louder than words. She refused to blindly trust when her life was on the line.
"You are a very frustrating woman. Do you realize that?" Tyr rumbled but she didn't bat an eye.
"
That’s the pot calling the kettle black.” She rolled her eyes at him. “Don't think I've forgiven you for keeping me against my will. If anything, you've put me at greater risk."
"No one would dare cross me and harm you here," Tyr huffed.
She recalled the dream where chaos broke loose. He had effectively put down the rebellion with his eerily powerful voice, but it still happened in the first place. These creatures were like lions. It would take nothing at all for them to kill her accidentally, much less intentionally.
"Yeah, no one would dare raise Cain, because you're the all-powerful Tyr," she retorted, tapping her forehead to remind him she too had seen what would happen among his people.
"Gods forbid you do the sensible thing and accept my hospitality," he groused.
The frustrating man may have fed her and answered her questions but he never said how long he planned to keep her. She had suspicions he would never release her. The maddeningly pleasant part of her vision gave credence to that. Who was to say when that moment might happen, weeks from now, years, some point in the future when she’d given up hope of freedom?
"Hospitality has its limits!" she stated matter-of-factly, refusing to give in to the delusion of affection that still plagued her.
"You're right, it does," Tyr bit out between gritted teeth.
She glared at him, not appreciating that he blatantly agreed with her grim assessment.
The man could at least pretend to sugar coat shit.
Just then there was a chime at the door. Tyr strode over and pressed a button.
"What?" he growled.
"I have a bunch of things from Ethan," said a female voice through the intercom.
"Just a minute, Sonja."
Gwen casually stood and followed. She tried to pay attention as Tyr pressed several buttons on the keypad by the door, but couldn’t see them clearly. Dark shades descended over the windows with a whir. There was a click at the door and in walked the woman she'd seen with Tyr at the bar. Sonja looked hot in her tight black pants and cropped jacket. At least now she knew why all his companions were gorgeous. That myth apparently held true among vampires.
Sonja stopped and passively looked her up and down. Gwen shifted uncomfortably, suddenly remembering she was only wearing Tyr’s shirt.