by HP Mallory
“Meg!” I called out, trying to swim through all of this confusion. I had to find her again and tell her my final choice. That I preferred to die rather than become that which I so wholly detested. I squeezed my eyes shut even more tightly and searched for her face in the resulting pitch darkness.
“He ain’t got no idea where he’s at right now,” a deep voice said, hinting at humor. “He muss be havin’ an out o’ body experience or somepin’.”
“Nah, it ain’t that,” another male voice replied. “He’s jist stuck in old memories.”
Being unable to identify the parties to whom the voices belonged, I chose to ignore them. They were of no consequence to me. All that mattered now was finding the Lady Meg so I could tell her not to transform me into her kind: vampire.
“I choose death,” I muttered, my voice sounding whispery soft.
“Won’t be much longer now,” the gruff voice responded.
“Nah, more like he’s only halfway through,” the other one argued.
“Ya think?”
“Yep, gonna take a while more.”
Opening my eyes, I tried to turn my head to inquire with whom I was sharing my dormitory, but I could not move. My head remained in a forward facing direction as if it were buffered on either side. I could only stare at an ivory ceiling. In the center of it was an acanthus leaf, circular medallion. I assumed the purpose of the elaborate decoration was to draw attention to the enormous chandelier which hung above me. Holding fifty or more lightbulbs if it held one, the reflection derived from countless crystal beads and drops highlighted the entire room.
For reasons far beyond my understanding, a sense of familiarity embraced me, as if I had beheld this very chandelier hundreds of times before. Closing my eyes, the projector of images and memories began rolling behind my eyelids. I could see the same chandelier hanging from the very same ceiling; however, this time there were no lightbulbs for illumination, but white tapers that were as long as my fingers, each of them burning bright. Beneath the chandelier, a roomful of people all clad in their best attire swayed this way and that as an orchestra played behind them. The dancers were separated into groups of four couples, all performing the Quadrille.
“He’s twitchin’,” the same deep voice announced. His crass words seemed to echo through the entire room, loud enough to overcome even the music. The music …
What was the song that kept playing? I heard my own voice in my head. I remember the song so well. It was one of my favorites. “Le Pantalon!” I called out as soon as the title resurfaced. Opening my eyes triumphantly, I found myself staring at the chandelier again. But the dancers and the music were absent.
The dancers are all dead and long gone, I thought. Buried deep in the ground for hundreds of years. Forever dead to the world.
“He’s losin’ it,” someone said.
Finally succumbing to a deep sense of fatigue, I closed my eyes. Almost as quickly as my eyelashes, which currently felt more like lead weights, grazed the tops of my cheeks, a voice from inside me insisted that I open them again. Something was wrong! Something was very much out of order. I did not know what it could be, but almost as a reflex to that very thought, my eyes flew open, as if doing so on their own accord.
I tried to turn my head to the side again, intending to take stock of the room and who might be found in it, but a sharp jabbing pain in my neck prevented me from turning it. Stung by the instantaneous pricking sensation, I attempted to sit up. However, my depleted body lacked the energy required to do so. The pain continued to throb at the side of my neck, so I tried to rub it but soon found I could not move my hands. Glancing down at them, I saw they were tethered to the floor by what appeared to be iron manacles.
The manacles did not cause my alarm. No, my horror was reserved for the clear plastic tubes I saw that arose from each of my wrists. Clear plastic tubes carrying a red, viscous liquid. I followed the tubes from my wrists before they disappeared into a dark gray, square machine, which made a happy, purring sound.
“Bleeding me,” I screamed, but my words were no more than a whisper. “You’re bleeding me.”
“You’re awake.” A different voice. I turned in the direction from where it came and instantly flinched at the sharp pain emanating from my neck. Tugging against the shackles that held me in place, I soon became so winded that my hands merely collapsed back against the hardwood floor.
“Where am I?” I screamed in despair. I was suddenly overcome with a feeling of fury and outrage that I was being held in a place without knowing where I was, nor those who confined me. Then I remembered the lady … “It is not safe here!”
“He’s been sayin’ all sorts o’ weird shit,” one of the others in the room remarked.
The face that suddenly appeared in my line of sight turned out to be one I recognized. I was not certain how or why I recognized his face, but I did all the same. It was quite a handsome one—large brown eyes, a chiseled nose and good teeth; but it failed to provide me with any sort of comfort. On the contrary, a deep sense of foreboding continued to grow in my stomach.
“We cannot remain here, lest she return,” I said as I studied the man looming above me. I was trying to understand why he was creating such a rumbling, undeniable sense of unease inside me.
“Do you remember me?” he asked with a smirk. “Huh, boss?” he prodded with a chuckle.
Yes, I did remember. Like a tsunami washing over me, a sudden series of images appeared that replayed over and over until I could not take anymore.
“You hear me in there?” he persisted while leaning forward and rapping his hard knuckles on my forehead as if he were knocking on a door. “You remember my name?”
Jax.
“Yes,” I answered simply, almost feebly.
“Good, it’s no fun to break you if you’re already out o’ your flippin’ mind,” he said. Standing up again, he faced the purring machine which I then realized was extracting all of my blood.
But the bleeding machine was not the source of my abrupt disquietude. No, not at all. It was the memory of … her. Dulcie.
As if someone just stoked the fires of rebellion and anger inside me, a bilious, bitter drop of hatred began to bubble up in my stomach, leaving a sour taste in my mouth. I struggled against my shackles again, fisting my hands beside me. Of course it did no good. My wrists burned at the sites where the needles from the tubes were inserted into me.
“Better not try to fight it anymore,” Jax told me with little concern.
“Why are you bleeding me?” I inquired. “If you intended to kill me, there are much easier, and much faster, ways.”
“I have no intention of killing you, Bram,” Jax answered before shrugging. “Well, not yet anyway.”
“Then why,” I started to ask.
“In case you’ve forgotten, old man, vampire blood packs a huge profitability punch when it comes to supplying the illegal potions market,” Jax answered. Picking at his pointy fingernails casually, he spared me a side glance with a single raised brow.
My stomach contracted and my jaw tightened at the comprehension of the extent of his deceit. I instantly felt even more light-headed than I was before. I closed my eyes, trying to calm the unbearable tide of anger and fear that was mercilessly pounding through me.
“And I’m sure you’re also quite aware that the blood from a master vampire costs triple the normal price,” Jax gloated as I opened my eyes to glare at him. He briefly stopped inspecting his fingernails long enough to endow me with a broad smile. “Hell, I’ve even considered pawning the severed wings of a fairy. I bet they’d also do pretty well.”
My heart dropped as I pictured Dulcie and the agony he could inflict upon her. Her wings ordinarily would only appear when she was in the Netherworld, but that was not to say they could not appear on the earthly plane when properly induced. With a tiny swallow or two of Shutter #1 potion, Dulcie would have to adopt her natural form, and that would mean she would be at the mercy of Jax. “You dare no
t touch her!” I seethed.
Jax placed his hands, palm sides down, on my shoulders as he leaned down, narrowing his eyes on mine. “And what do you intend to do about it? Huh, Bram?” His two mindless henchmen chuckled in the background. “You’re, let’s see …” he started with a quick glance up at the gray machine that was gradually killing me. “Well, look at that! You’re halfway gone already. I bet you couldn’t even stand up if I offered you the opportunity.”
“I would kill you in a flash if you gave me any opportunity.”
Pulling away, he laughed, shaking his head. “Your time is comin’ to an end, old man,” he said as he eyed one of the men behind him. “The new world order has already begun! You will soon be extinct, a relic, a fossil, an ancient thing of the past.”
“I care not what you might do to me,” I replied, my vision slowly beginning to blur.
“Dulcie is mine now. And I get to do whatever the fuck I want to,” Jax answered evenly. “Whether I want to screw her, torture her, kill her, or cut off her fuckin’ wings! Now, it’s all up to me.”
“As long as you share, boss,” one of his thugs chirped. But Jax did not respond to him. He preferred to eye me with daggers that conveyed his abject hatred toward me.
“Turn it up! All the way to full power,” he ordered one of his henchmen, indicating the gray machine beside me. “I’m getting sick and tired of listenin’ to him.”
I could not see the man’s reaction, but the purring of the machine grew louder, and when I looked down at the tubes that arose from both of my wrists, I could easily observe that my blood was now egressing from my body much more rapidly.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dulcie
I heard someone unlocking the door.
Instantly sitting up, I’d nearly been dozing off while leaning against the wall only moments earlier. It had been a while since Bram and I were separated. Now I was incarcerated in this gloomy room by myself. Lacking any windows, my prison prevented me from determining day from night. My hands, still bound tightly behind me, ached right up to my shoulders like nobody’s business. I gritted my teeth as the pain only magnified with even the slightest movement. But then I tried hard to push the agony right out of my consciousness, mainly because it was useless to focus on it.
The door opened and Jax walked in. He was carrying a sandwich on a plate and a glass of milk. At the sight of food, my stomach immediately started to growl. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had an actual meal or even something small to eat.
“Ah, it sounds like someone might be hungry,” Jax trilled with a smile as he closed the door behind him. He came nearer to me and towered over me for a few seconds before dropping down to his haunches. He temporarily reminded me of a cowboy, stooping down to warm himself in front of a fire … but this was no John Wayne. The fleeting thought of shoving Jax into a fire flitted through my mind, and I had to squelch my own disappointment that such wasn’t possible.
“I’m good,” I answered with a frown while narrowing my eyes first at the sandwich and then at him. There was no way I would give him any satisfaction over knowing that I was dying to eat it. Even though my hunger was long beyond starving, I didn’t want to give in. Since I absolutely detested the very sight of him, I chose to stare at the wall behind him.
“Don’t play the part of the spoiled child, Dulcie,” Jax scolded me as he shook his head and shoved the sandwich right in front of my face. “Starving yourself isn’t going to get you out of here any faster.” My stomach immediately started growling again, only this time, it sounded much louder. Jax’s smile widened. “What was that?” he mocked me. “It seems your stomach agrees with me.”
“What do you want, Jax?” I asked him as directly as I could, setting my jaw out obstinately.
“Isn’t that obvious to you yet?” he asked with a shrug. Motioning to the sandwich in his hand and the glass of milk, he added, “I came to feed you, so I want you to eat.”
“If that’s the case, then why don’t you untie my hands and leave so I can eat in peace without having to look at your ugly face?” I spat back in anger. Yes, I realized I sounded like a spoiled child, but I couldn’t have cared less.
Jax exaggeratedly shook his head extremely slowly as he tsked me, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Come now, sweet cheeks, is that the way you really want to act with me?”
I gave him the coldest stare I could possibly muster. “Looks that way.”
He put half the sandwich down on the plate before strategically placing the plate on the floor and glancing back at me. “I would be happy to unbind your hands, but only if you promise to do as I expect you to and behave yourself like a proper lady,” he warned as he stood up and approached me. Then, reaching down with one hand, he gripped me by the back of my neck. I was forced to scramble to my feet, otherwise fearing he would have continue to lift me upright solely by my neck. “Or not,” he added with a quick wink. “I imagine a good wrestling session with you might be just what the doctor ordered, if only to cure my boredom.” Then he twirled me around so I was facing him. “There’s not a lot to do in this drafty old place, is there?”
“I’ll behave as properly as you deserve,” I grumbled as I glared at him. He responded by putting his hand on my chest and rudely pushing me up against the wall. “This doesn’t look like you’re untying me so I can eat.”
“All in good time,” he answered as he studied me closer. He took a step forward until only an inch or less space separated us. Then he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
“What are you doing?”
He opened his eyes and gazed at me for another second or so; then a startlingly handsome smile appeared on his face. I couldn’t help thinking what a shame it was. He was so dark and evil inside while more than attractive from the outside. Not that I really was admiring his looks, however, because I couldn’t … His physical attractiveness was just another ruse designed to make me drop my guard. It was every bit as intimidating as his immense size and unparalleled strength. I didn’t and wouldn’t fail to remember that he could snap me in half without much effort. And, what was more, I was sure he’d enjoy it.
“What is this bizarre power you seem to have over some men?” he inquired as he leaned closer and his hot breath tickled my neck.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” I snapped. I tried to push him away with my shoulder that was closest to his face.
“Yes, you do,” he said as he looked down at me. “You are fae.”
“Yeah, so what? It’s not like that’s any news.”
Jax smiled, and I saw a cruel expression in his eyes. “I have known a few fae women intimately, and I will admit that my sexual lust for them was much more pronounced than for any other type of women.”
“Really? How fascinating …” I started as I glared at him. “I’d really appreciate it if you could just untie me and let me eat my lunch or dinner or whatever the hell you want to call this meal by myself.” I ineptly attempted to further flatten myself into the wall, but it was impossible. I was stuck there and not going anywhere.
“But you are a different type of female altogether,” he continued, as if I hadn’t even spoken. “Maybe I find you so desirable because I enjoy the chase.”
“Yep! That’s it! I’m sure that’s probably exactly what it is,” I agreed quickly as my empty stomach started to protest again.
“Then again, I don’t know,” he stalled, and I began to suspect he might be playing some kind of game with me. Was he trying to act the part of the good cop? Or the good felon, as the case may be. “I think it’s much more than the chase though. I feel a very strong urge to take you down a peg or two.”
“And I have zero interest in this conversation,” I replied straight-lipped.
“Hah! I don’t buy that for a second,” he rebutted, suddenly closing the distance between us until his lips were only millimeters from my ear. I closed my eyes tightly so I wouldn’t have to look at him. “You know how
thrilled you are by the idea of me forcing you to submit to my urges,” he finished with a sneer.
“The idea of that doesn’t thrill me in the least. In fact, to be honest, it literally makes me nauseous,” I answered dryly.
He pulled away as if to study me, like he was trying to memorize every line and feature of my face. “You sound so tough, but you could never defend yourself against me,” he gloated. “Sure, you talk a mean threat and you try to walk the walk, but when it comes right down to it, you’re just an impotent, feeble woman.”
The venom in his words nearly burned my ears. When I looked back up at him, my eyes were narrowed to mere slits and my hands were already fisting behind my back. “If you allowed me a single moment to use my magic, I could waste you in seconds.”
“I doubt that very much,” he answered with a laugh. Then he was quiet for a few seconds before clearing his throat and saying, “I have a … little proposition for you.”
“I’m not interested in anything you have to propose.”
He shook his head. “You don’t know that yet, so zip it for a few seconds while I make my offer known.”
“Great,” I replied with little interest. I could only wonder how long this would take. All I really wanted right then was for Jax to untie my hands so I could eat my sandwich and drink my milk. Then, with a full belly, I could go back to plotting my way out of the miserable situation I’d somehow found myself in.
“You must realize the bad spot you’re in,” he started.
“Um, yeah, you could say that. I’m not an idiot.”
“Even though you’re no match to my strength, much less any competition to me, I have to admit that I admire you all the same.”
