Blood That Binds: A Vampire Romance (Blood Legends Duet)

by Melissa Winters

  Ratilda looks to Julian, who simply nods in agreement.

  “A-all right. That concludes today’s auction. We’ll convene back here in one month for more options. Thank you,” she says before walking off the stage.

  My head snaps to Stacey’s. Her eyes are wide, and fear like I’ve never seen before shows. I turn toward her just in time to catch her as she collapses into my open arms. Her body shakes violently as I lower her and myself to the ground. I’m hoping the floor will open up and swallow us whole. Anything to keep us as far from those men as possible.

  “Don’t let him take me,” she whimpers, and I hold on tighter.

  “I don’t know what I can do, Stacey. They’re vampires. They have powers we don’t.”

  She cries out, smashing her head into my shoulder as if trying to burrow inside me.

  “I’m going to die. We’re going to die,” she shrieks.

  I don’t doubt her words. We’ve been auctioned off as blood donors. Unwilling donors. They take what they want and come back for more. Her fear is warranted, and I wonder why I’m not as frightened. It’s not that I’m not scared, I’m just numb.

  I don’t want to let her go. We don’t know each other, but being in this situation has somehow made me desperate to stay with her. To hold on to anything and anyone who came into my life before this moment. Being victims has imprinted her on my soul. We’re kindred and that’s not something I want to lose, because when I do, life as I know it is over.

  It was over the moment you were taken.

  My wish is not fulfilled. Firm hands grab me from behind, pulling me away from a screaming Stacey. I’m pulled roughly to my feet and moved toward a step down off the platform.

  “Stacey,” I yell out, desperate to get back to her, but a hard smack to the face has me sobering and pulled back to my captor.

  “Shut up, girl,” Sarcos barks, and I cower at his lethal tone.

  “If I were you, I’d never touch her like that again,” Julian says even more lethally.

  “Sir Crown, I’m sorry,” he mutters, clearly afraid of the man in front of him. “What would you like me to do with your purchase?” Sarcos asks, head lowered.

  “Prepare her for travel.”

  “Yes, sir,” he says, bowing low.

  “And Sarcos,” Julian says, drawing the evil creature’s gaze toward him. “You touch her or any donor like that again, I’ll kill you myself,” he warns.

  “Y-yes, sir,” he says, bowing twice more before placing his hand on my back lightly and ushering me back toward the hallway by which we’d entered the auction.

  My eyes land on Julian’s and his soften. I glare in response. I don’t want his false sense of security. He’s as bad as Sarcos and every other vampire in this place. I’ll fight him to the death.

  “Same with mine,” Marcellus orders, drawing my attention away from Julian’s.

  Marcellus sneers in my direction before he pivots, stalking toward his brother.

  I look to Stacey, who stares absently as she’s placed next to me by Ramsey.

  “Move,” we are commanded.

  We descend the stairs we climbed earlier for the auction. Sarcos appears to be leading us back to the room where we were dressed. At the last minute, he steers in the opposite direction. Stopping in front of a small door, he pulls out a key and unlocks it. When the door is open, he tosses us in, slamming and locking it shut behind us. Placing my ear to the door, I listen as heavy footsteps retreat. When I can no longer hear them, I push off the door, searching the room.

  “Help me look for an escape.” I say to Stacey, running my hands along the wall.

  “What?”

  “Snap out of it, Stacey.” I bark. “We have one shot to get the hell out of here. Help me.”

  I continue searching the room for any means of escape. There’s not so much as a vent to be seen. We’ve been put in a room that is nothing more than a boxed-in cell.

  “We’re going to die,” Stacey cries, losing her once stoic persona.

  Grabbing her by the shoulders, I sit her down on the nearest chair.

  “Snap out of it,” I command. “Now is not the time to lose our heads. You have to pull it together.”

  “We’re going to die,” she repeats.

  “No. We won’t,” I yell back.

  “You saw him. I’m as good as dead,” she says between sniffles. “He’s dangerous.”

  She’s right. He is. And as much as I’d love to believe that we’ll make it out alive, the truth is, we probably won’t. But we have to try, right?

  “What’s your name?” I ask, trying to get her to remember who she is. The strong girl from earlier. She eyes me wearily. “What’s your name?” I repeat.

  Her eyes blink several times before she finally whispers, “Stacey Ryan.”

  I nod, “That’s right. Stacey Ryan. We need to get out of here and I need your help. Can you help me?” I ask, and she takes a deep breath.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” I smile. “Let’s find a way out of here.”

  I help her stand to her feet and she pulls me into a hug. “Thank you, Marina.”

  “For what?” I ask, confused.

  “For helping me find myself again. For not allowing me to be scared.”

  I sigh. “There is plenty to be scared about, Stacey. I’m scared too. But right now, we need to form a plan.”

  “Okay.” She nods her head. “What do we do?”

  “We search this place.”

  A short time later, we’ve managed to come up empty-handed. The place is no more than a fancy prison cell. We’re both sitting on the ground feeling defeated when the door creeps open and two bags are thrown in. I scramble to my feet, but the door is closed quickly, locking us back in.

  I pick up one of the bags and open it to find clothes. A pair of black yoga pants, a white tank top, white undies, and a sports bra a size too large are now littering the floor. Stacey dumps her contents as well, finding the same things.

  “What am I supposed to do with this?” Stacey grits through her teeth. I eye the contents and can’t help but smile.

  “I don’t know about you, but I can run much better in these,” I say, grinning for the first time in days. She grins too.

  Hope.

  It might be a horrible tease, but it’s the first sign of hope either of us have had in some time. I decide in this moment to cling to it, fiercely. We both hurriedly change into the new clothes.

  The door opens once more, and Sarcos comes in with two covered dishes.

  “Glad to see you chose to get dressed. I wouldn’t want to have to beat you into submission,” he threatens, lowering the dishes to the ground in front of us.

  “I’m pretty sure you were warned not to touch me,” I grit out, and he takes one menacing step toward me.

  “You bitch,” he seethes. “You might be safe for now, but you’ll wish I’d killed you before this is all over with.”

  “Please,” Stacey begs from beside me. “Just do what you came to do and leave us alone.”

  He peruses her body.

  “Nobody ever said I couldn’t touch you.” He licks his lips and Stacey recoils.

  “Touch her and I’ll scream for Julian. You won’t make it out of here alive,” I promise, not knowing if my threat is even valid. He stops, face turning red. He doesn’t come closer, which leads me to believe my words do in fact have merit. Without another word, he lifts the lids to the covered dishes and pulls two bottled waters from his cargo pockets.

  “Eat. You leave in ten minutes.”

  When the door is shut behind us and I no longer fear he’s near, I take a look at what sits before us and my mouth begins to water. Steak, a baked potato, and bread sit atop the silver dishes. Stacey and I don’t waste time. We’re starving and the food calls to us. There is no silverware, but I don’t care. I shovel pieces of bread and potato into my mouth as if this is my last meal. It may be.

  I don’t linger on that thought, instead continuin
g to stuff my mouth full of food. Not even five minutes later, my plate is clean. I open the water bottle and gulp greedily. That’s when it all goes south. Something is off. The room is swaying and my vision is getting fuzzy. My eyelids grow heavy.

  “Stacey, are you feeling strange?”

  “Yes. You too?”

  “I . . .” My words trail off.

  The room goes in and out of focus. Before long, the fight bleeds out of me and I succumb to the dark.

  Chapter Seven

  Julian

  I pace the floor of this hellhole, wearing the treads thin. The room I’m in is a prison cell, meant to hold the innocent girls who’ve been stolen away from their families. From their lives. The whole fucking thing makes me sick, but what the hell can I do? I’d need an army to change things, and with half the vampire population at odds with my rule, my best chance of effecting change is to gain more alliances and earn the allegiance of more of my subjects. As it stands now, the vampire army’s allegiance rests with the Council, and half the Council would do anything to see me overthrown.

  It’ll take time, and time is something these donors don’t have. The truth is, almost every single one of them that stood on that stage today will be dead within the month. The vampires who bought them are some of the worst in our society. They’re the true evil that lurks in the shadows and feeds off the fear they cause.

  They don’t need these girls. They own clubs and houses filled to the brim with willing donors. Yet this is their choice. They want the fight . . . the fear. They want the chase. They have the money to pay the going rate, just for the sport of it. To have slaves at their beck and call. They’ll abuse these girls in horrific ways just for fun.

  My stomach turns at the thought and the knowledge that all of that blood money goes to my family. It’s my legacy.

  A legacy I never wanted.

  “What’s going through that head of yours?” my brother Law asks, sounding weary.

  “Don’t ask,” I growl, trying hard not to lose my cool on him. He doesn’t like this any more than I do. But he’s even more powerless than I am.

  “There’s nothing you can do, Jude. You’ve saved one. Can’t that be enough?”

  “It’ll never be enough,” I bark, turning on him. His hands fly up in surrender. “Why the fuck did you bring me here, Law?”

  He sighs. “I didn’t want to, but the Council is getting agitated. Every month that goes by and you’re missing from the auction and the meetings, the whispers about overthrowing the monarchy grow.”

  “And you know this how?” I grit through my teeth, angry that this is the first I’m hearing of such talk.

  “I have my sources, Jude. And they’re not happy about the traitors.” He sighs again. “But you and I both know that your absence only looks like weakness in their eyes. It won’t be long before there’s a full mutiny, with the Council leading the charge.”

  I run my hands through my hair roughly, pulling at the roots. I know what he says is true. They think I’m weak. They believe I’ll be the fall of the vampire race.

  They can all fuck off.

  “So . . . Marina . . .”

  I give my brother the side-eye, not wanting to discuss Marina Drake. That was an unexpected turn of events. I had absolutely no intention of participating in that fucking auction, but there was something about her. I couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—allow them to have her. Then when I drank her blood . . .

  “Earth to Julian . . . what the hell, man?”

  “We’re not talking about this,” I say, starting to pace yet again, but Law gets in my face, grabs me by my shoulders, and forces me to stop. “Don’t,” I warn, but he only smirks.

  “Her blood was that good, huh?” he chuckles. “I saw the way your eyes practically rolled back into your head. There’s something about her, isn’t there?”

  I watch my brother closely. There’s something he isn’t saying. There’s something he’s hiding. He’s never tried to get me to these auctions before, and despite his words, his insistence today was completely unlike him. He’s never given a shit about anything, especially when it comes to family affairs. Even if we are overthrown, money will never be an issue for us. We have compulsion. We can take what we want, even if it’s not our preference. Law has made it clear that he’d prefer that to mutilating humans. We both would.

  Except more humans would die.

  “You knew her,” I accuse, continuing to watch him for signs. His face gives nothing away.

  “I thought I did. Turns out, she wasn’t who I thought,” he shrugs all nonchalant, but it’s bullshit and I know it.

  He’s definitely hiding something.

  A knock sounds on the door and I call out, “Come in.”

  “Sir, your donor is ready,” Sarcos says, bowing like an idiot.

  “Shall we?” Law asks, motioning toward the door and effectively ending my questioning.

  Whatever he’s keeping from me, I’ll get to the bottom of it, but for now, I need to get Marina out of here.

  I sway on my feet, feeling lightheaded. Law’s hands come under my arm, helping to keep me standing.

  “Whoa, brother. What’s going on?” he asks with a raised brow.

  I jerk out of his grasp and smooth my suit back into place. “I’m fine. I need to get out of here,” I lie. Something is off. It has been since I drank her blood.

  I wouldn’t admit that to Law, and certainly not here, where the walls undoubtedly have ears. We’ve already said too much. Law continues to stare; what he’s searching for I can only begin to imagine.

  “What the fuck are you looking at?”

  “You sure you’re okay?” he questions, and I scowl.

  “I said I’m good. Let’s get out of here.” He nods, never taking his eyes off of me.

  Law sees too much and it’s a real problem. There’s something connecting me to Marina Drake. I felt it the moment my eyes landed on her. I tasted it in her blood. The question is whether this connection is a good thing or a bad thing for me. By the way my stomach is turning and sweat beads at my temple, I can only assume it’s not good.

  I need to figure out who this human girl is and why she has any hold over me.

  Chapter Eight

  Hazel eyes bore into me. Hungrily. He reaches out, brushing my hair from my neck. Leaning in, he runs the tip of his nose delicately up the arch of my neck, nipping lightly at my ear. A shiver of ecstasy works its way through me.

  “Please,” I beg.

  Trailing kisses down the same path, he stops at the crook of my neck and shoulder.

  “You’re mine, Marina,” he whispers into my skin like a prayer.

  The dream ends abruptly, and I’m left feeling cheated, in a fog of lust. I snuggle into the soft sheets that cover my body. The smell of lavender infiltrates my nostrils. I sigh in contentment, stretching my hands above my head and groaning at the exquisite stretch of my aching muscles. I run my hands down my face and my eyes flutter open.

  An ornately decorated ceiling has me sitting up quickly and pulling the blankets tightly around me. My eyes dart wildly around the foreign space, searching for interlopers. This room may be worlds better than the cell, but it doesn’t stop my body from shaking uncontrollably. Perspiration builds on my upper lip and I wipe it away. The room is empty, save for the traditional bedroom furniture. Every item decorating the room is lavish and expensive-looking.

  As the initial fear subsides, I’m able to truly appreciate the magnificence of the room. The four-poster bed I’m currently perched atop is rich mahogany that reaches almost to the top of a twelve-foot ceiling. The intricate carvings on the bed and large armoire are in the Baroque style. I know this from working in the antique store a town over from Liberty for an entire summer in junior high. It was my favorite job, and to this day I can still name certain pieces and styles because of it.

  The windows are free of bars and sunlight streams in, surrounding me in warmth.

  My momentary fascination with my newe
st prison quickly vanishes with the sight of the heavy wooden door. I rush from the bed, grabbing at the knob and twisting . . . but nothing happens. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that I’m locked in. Obviously, they aren’t going to make this easy on me.

  I spin around, my back hitting the door, and slide to the floor with a huff. My head falls backward, colliding roughly with the strong wooden frame, and I cry out. The tears come next, gliding down my cheeks in a river of frustration and hopelessness. I may be alive, but I’m trapped in a hell worse than death. The unknown claws away at the fortress I’ve built around my mind. All the awful possibilities play out in my head, worse than any horror movie I’ve dared to watch.

  I know I’m living with the king of vampires and it’s only a matter of time before he comes for me. To feed from me. To eventually kill me.

  “What do you want with me?” My vocal cords strain from the force with which the words are screamed. I know damn well what he wants, but I’d say anything to get him here. I’d rather we get started and the end come quickly. Why drag this out?

  Standing, I turn back to face the door, bringing my fist up to pound the wood over and over again. “Let me out. Let me the hell out of here,” I repeat hysterically. A rustling on the other side stops me short. My body tenses. Someone is out there.

  “Open the goddamn door, you sadist,” I shriek, and then freeze when I hear a key going into the lock on the other side.

  My eyes search the area around me, looking for a place to hide. I might’ve been asking for this, but now that someone is actually coming in, I’m terrified. I almost collapse in relief when my gaze falls upon a door on the adjacent wall. Throwing it open, I’m disappointed to find it’s only an en suite bathroom. One conveniently lacking a lock. Without time to contemplate my next move, I enter the bathroom, closing the door behind me and crouching in the large stone shower. Not two seconds later, I hear footsteps on the wooden floor on the other side of the bathroom door.