Nectar
Page 9
“Funny?”
“You’d hate that as much as I would.”
“Bullshit. I want you to leave me alone. Stop touching me and I won’t try to get away until you get your blood tests back. Then when the tests come back, we’ll figure things out and renegotiate whatever terms so that I can go. Get me my purse and phone. I’ll ask for a few sick days from work. I’ll---”
He laughed, “What makes you think I’m willing to negotiate anything? I’m already in control here; I don’t need to barter with you. You’re staying here. In my bed. With me.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
She tried to ignore the stirring of those words and the edge in his voice as he said them. “So you’re just going to keep me prisoner?”
He took a deep breath and looked down at her hand and kissed it again and then flicked the blanket up and over her, “Think of yourself as my guest. You’ll be safe here in my room while I figure everything out. Stay in here and I’ll be able to ensure your safety.”
“My safety? How can I be safe in your bed? The bed of a---a monster?” She glared the ugliest, dirtiest look she could muster. But, she didn’t feel convinced. Monsters didn’t kiss your hand and tuck you in, did they? Monsters didn’t want to hold you to convince themselves you were okay, did they?
His gaze darkened, “Apparently it looks like I don’t have to be a monster, though. Which is a surprise. But don’t push too hard or you will see it. It’s always your choice. Easy or hard.”
“You say you like hard. But, then it turns you into that monster?”
He snickered, “Strange, huh? Better be on your best behaviour, then. Like I said, I’m working on decoding this mystery. Stay put and let me focus my energy on figuring it out instead of chasing you and we’ll get to the bottom of it faster.”
“I have a life, jobs, responsibilities.”
He tucked her in without replying. They said nothing, but it felt like he was serenading her with his eyes. A second ago he was cold and threatening and now he was all Mr. Romeo. He kissed her lips softly, lingering for a moment. He tasted like peaches and cream. She didn’t kiss him back. She just lay there frozen stiff and seething with anger and full of confusion over what was going on. He left the room without saying anything else. She closed her eyes and asked sleep to take her away from the confusion she felt.
4
When Kyla woke up she was alone in the huge bed.
Tristan’s bed.
It was bright in the room, drapes all open wide, and she could hear birds singing. She felt oddly well-rested. Again. She spotted Tristan through floor to ceiling sliding doors. He was outside on the terrace or balcony or whatever it was, pacing and talking on his phone and with a coffee mug in his hand. He was shirtless and wearing a pair of faded cut-off jean shorts. He looked, through the window panes, like a half-naked GQ model, not like a kidnapping vampire, all pale and sinister-looking. She strained to listen, but couldn’t hear anything he was saying. He looked like he was pissed off with whoever was on the phone. She looked around and more closely surveyed this room.
His bedroom was decidedly masculine, for sure, with a giant bed. She assumed it was king-sized, as it seemed huge and she didn’t think she’d ever been in a bed that was anything larger than a queen. The bed and furnishings were similar to the other room with four iron posters and the headboard and footboard consisted of the same style of ornate scrolls that looked like they belonged on iron gates.
Directly ahead against a wall was a long espresso-stained wood dresser with a mirror. On top was a silver tray with a decanter of alcohol, what he’d fed her last night. There was also another silver tray with a wallet, keys, and some loose change. A large silver crucifix lay beside the tray. Another strike against vampire folklore? Surely it wouldn’t be here if it could wield any power against him.
This master suite also had a big sitting area with a fireplace and this room had a big overstuffed plush-looking red sofa. Above the big curved television that sat on the mantle was a wreath that looked like it was made of garlic bulbs. She lifted her brows at that one.
There was also a dark wood desk with a lamp and a laptop on it. Beside the desk was a stack of several cardboard boxes and beside that, a large book case filled with hardcover books.
Kyla chewed her bottom lip and thought about the computer. Could she get an email to Daisy, maybe? But, what would she say? Call the police! Should she change her Facebook status to:
‘Somebody save me!!!! A tall, dark, and sexy vampire prince with glowing blue eyes has me in his lair and he won’t stop having mind-blowing sex with me and drinking my blood and kissing me all over!’
Was there a paranormal squad for that? As if.
This room was painted a deep red and had beautiful architectural touches. Blood red; how fitting. Kyla needed to use the bathroom. She got up out of bed, holding a sheet over her nakedness. The t-shirt she’d worn last night was on the floor across the room. How did that get off me? Two guesses and the first one doesn’t count!
There was a red silky knee-length robe at the end of the bed. She quickly wrapped it around herself, finding it odd. She had one just like it at home. Exactly like it.
Tristan glanced over his shoulder at her, but kept talking on the phone. She had to walk toward the bedroom door to get to the bathroom. They made eye contact. His eyes narrowed as she passed the bedroom door and suddenly there was a thud. Was that the door lock? Was someone coming in or just locking it? She grimaced at the door and then glanced back at him. His expression softened, probably because it was obvious she was heading to the bathroom.
She remembered him climbing into the bed last night sometime after he’d tucked her in. She remembered him trailing kisses up and down her bare back and shoulders as well as her cheek and stroking her hair for a long time, but he hadn’t bit her or pushed things further. She’d just stayed still, confused by the feelings it was stirring in her. He’d eventually spooned against her and she fell back to sleep, feeling like she was wrapped in sweet-smelling warmth. Like the scent of syrup over blueberry pancakes. How could she have slept so soundly in bed beside her captor, a blood-sucking vampire? It was weird to her that she felt well-rested after sleeping beside him and that in the midst of all this that she was actually sleeping so much.
This bathroom was much the same as the bathroom in the other room, only grander, which she wouldn’t have thought possible until stepping foot into it. On the vanity were his personal things. Combs, shaving gear, toiletries. She ran her tongue across her teeth. They felt fuzzy and gross. She picked up his toothbrush and poured mouthwash over it to disinfect it and then loaded it up with quadruple the usual amount of toothpaste and brushed her teeth with it, resulting in an extraordinary amount of lather. That was better.
A vampire’s toothbrush. Bizarre.
She ran her tongue over her own eye teeth and inspected at them in the mirror, imagining herself with long vampire fangs.
She rinsed her mouth about a dozen times with water as hot as she could stand it and then mouthwash. Like that would make a difference. He’d already had his mouth all over her. She flushed bright scarlet, envisioning him with his mouth down between her legs.
She scrubbed her face with soap and tried to run a brush through her hair, but it was long, almost to her navel, fairly knotted and would likely need half a bottle of conditioner to get it presentable,so she did a quick brushing of the roots and then twisted the length into a bun, tucking the end through it to try to keep it in place, wishing she’d had a rubber band. She got up on her toes to get closer to the mirror and looked at the sore on her neck. It was significantly better looking. She wished she had a turtleneck sweater, so he wouldn’t be tempted by seeing her bare throat. Then again, he’d also bit her between the legs and on the hip already so evidently, a throat wasn’t necessary for this vampire. She pushed away the stirring that the memory of his teeth on her and his mouth on her was doing to her.
After she was done with bathroom business she walked
back out into the bedroom and he motioned for her to come out onto the balcony. She slowly walked out, seeing that it was more than a balcony, more of a large terrace with iron railings that were very similar to the bed. It overlooked the big courtyard and extended the length of that side of the house and then wrapped around to the opposite side where there were other doors that led onto it from various points on the second level.
Movement caught her eye and she looked down by a kidney-shaped pool below and saw a dark-haired man dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt with a goatee and sunglasses on. He had tattooed arms and a great body. He looked familiar. She thought back to her shift at the bar the other night and remembered one of the waitresses whispering, “Look at Johnny Depp over there!” He’d been at the bar, stirring his drink with a stir stick and smiling devilishly at the waitress and he did look a bit like Johnny Depp, only younger, taller, and more built.
Now he was skimming the pool while smoking a cigarette. He glanced up in her direction but didn’t smile. He put the skimmer down, stubbed the cigarette out in an ashtray on the table, and opened a sliding door on the main level and went inside. It dawned on her then that Joe had been beside him in the bar and that they’d been whispering about her. When she’d served them drinks, one of them, she thought it must’ve been the dark-haired one, had tried flirting with her. It’d been busy, and she’d just laughed it off, thinking he was hunky in a dirty-pretty kind of Johnny Depp way, but she had no time for coming up with ways to shoot down cheesy pickup lines when it was so busy. She’d heard all manner of pickup lines in her time at that bar so waved them all off as cheesy. So that was the other guy who’d helped to kidnap her. Lovely.
“Good morning, delicious little cherry bomb,” Tristan said. He motioned for her to sit beside him at an iron bistro style table for two where a tray sat with a carafe, mugs, and cream and sugar dish. His cell phone sat beside his mug. She eyed it.
“Coffee?” he asked. He stared, undressing her with his eyes. It wouldn’t take much, given that all she was wearing was that red silk robe with not a stitch underneath.
Kyla nodded. She didn’t know how she even got through yesterday without coffee. He poured a splash of milk and 2 heaping spoons filled with coarse raw sugar into it. That’s exactly how she took her coffee, raw sugar and all, but she hadn’t told him that. Most people put too much milk in her coffee for her liking, too. He’d gotten it perfect. She frowned. Was he a mind reader or something?
“There are some boxes beside the desk. They’re your belongings,” he said, as he stirred the coffee. He looked at her face then pushed the cup toward her and sucked on the spoon. His mouth. It was distracting.
How can my mind go there at a time like this? That sexy mouth is filled with murderous teeth! He was smirking. Why was he smirking? Wait, What?
“Did you just say my belongings are here?” She pointed down at the table, “Here?”
“I’ve spoken to managers at the restaurant and the bar. And your roommate. No one is worried.”
“What? You what?” She was flabbergasted. The stack of boxes; was that the total sum of her life? He spoke to Daisy?
What the ---?
“I had Sam pick up your things this morning. When I went out yesterday, before you tried to run,” he looked at her disapprovingly, “I had gone to speak to the people who might be concerned about you. They know you’re safe. I had your roommate pack for you.”
“Safe?” She laughed cynically, “Am I?”
He blinked at her.
“What did you say to people?”
“Does it matter?” he muttered into his cup and took a sip of his coffee.
“They didn’t find it strange that I’ve been missing for over 24 hours and that I haven’t called?”
She waited. He didn’t answer; he just looked at her coolly.
“I’ve never missed a day of work without notice until now. Someone they’ve never met is speaking for me and, what? Having my belongings picked up? I don’t understand how anyone could be okay with that.”
“I can be very convincing. Maybe not to you, but to other people... I can be convincing.”
It started to sink in. “Ah. You hypnotized them.”
He sipped his coffee and shrugged, looking pleased with himself. Kyla shook her head in astonishment. Her anger started to rise. She folded her arms across her chest. She seriously wanted to throw something.
“Did you drink their blood, too? Did you fuck my roommate into submission?”
“Would it bother you if I did? Would you be jealous?” He raised a brow at her.
Kyla’s face reddened. “You are such a dick.”
He rolled his eyes, but had a smirk on his face. “Don’t be ridiculous. She’s not my type. You’re my type.” After a beat of silence, he moistened his lips and continued. “But certain measures have been taken and I can’t say for sure that Sam didn’t have a taste; he is partial to blondes with big tits,” Tristan snickered. “You need to know all this so that you aren’t fretting about what’s happening out there.”
“Fretting? My life is out there!” she spat.
“From everything I’ve surmised it wasn’t all that much of a life.”
Well. That felt like a blow to the gut.
He was right, though. What was out there? Two crappy jobs, a few acquaintances she kept at arms’ length, and a past she wanted to forget. What else? No family. No boyfriend. Not even a pet to miss her and/or notice she’d been abducted.
But despite all of it, she hadn’t given up on life. She always believed in possibilities. She’d never lost hope. She had been saving up to go back to school. In a few months she’d have enough money to quit one of her two jobs and go to college. She had some friends that she was starting to get close-ish to. Screw him; such as it was this life was hers!
“Screw you. What do you know about my life?”
He looked at her with pity. She hated that expression on his face. She looked down at her nails.
“I know more than you’d expect. Your friends were forthcoming. And I did a bit of research. I know you’re an orphan with no family, that you were raised in foster care in Ottawa and that you moved to Toronto a few years ago. Your roommate, Daisy, who was happy to share plenty of useless information, she didn’t know all that much about you, but yet she said she was probably your closest friend. Strange. Your regular customers at that greasy spoon were also eager to talk about how much everyone loves your spunk, but can’t figure out why you’re so guarded. I know you work constantly, you don’t sleep enough, and that you don’t date. Men express interest but you typically ignore them or knock them down a few pegs when they have the audacity to be nice to you. You don’t really let anyone get close to you, do you? And screw me? Watch what you say to me, Kyla, if you haven’t figured it out yet you will; I take things very literally.”
She folded her arms across her chest and blew out a long breath.
He sipped his coffee and then continued, “No men in your life, Kyla? Did you leave Ottawa with a broken heart? Or did you break someone else’s heart?”
She closed her eyes tight and shook her head slowly, pain etched on her face.
“Ah; bingo. Well, no one is worried, Kyla. I was convincing. Just relax and enjoy my company for a little while, like I’m enjoying yours. I’ve done this so you can let all that stress you’re feeling go.”
“Like you know or care how I feel.”
“You might be surprised how much I do. I know I’m surprised,” he said softly.
“My life might not be ‘all that’,” she gestured with mock quotes, “but it is mine! And whatever I do make of it, I’ll do it on my own. I owe nothing to nobody. No help, no DNA, no support, nothing will get me ahead but me, and I’ll do it, too.”
He looked at her with pity.
She folded her arms even tighter across her chest. Screw him and his pity. She didn’t want it, “Why would you bring my things here? Just how long are you planning to keep me here?”r />
He shrugged, “We’ll have to see what happens.”
“What about when I go back to my life? I won’t have a paycheque, any place to live? I have bills to pay. Like… bills that are due in a few days! I have responsibilities. They’ll fire me. Daisy’ll find a new roommate.”
“Don’t worry about any of it. You don’t have to worry about anything. Not a thing.”
“What does that mean? The only way I have nothing to worry about is if I’m dead. You are going to kill me, aren’t you?”
“No. All you need to know is that I’m taking care of you for the foreseeable future. That’s all.”
“What the heck do you mean foreseeable future?” She glared the ugliest, nastiest, meanest look she could muster at him.
“Just what it sounds like.”
She had no words.
He smiled at her warmly. “Don’t go detonating on me, cherry bomb. Let’s just take it a day at a time. Don’t stress. I’ve taken care of everything. When we get all this figured out, you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Clearly you’re thinking more than a few days ahead. And why should I trust a kidnapping raping vampire who can’t handle the word No and eats virgins for breakfast?”
He leaned forward and planted his chin on his palm and stared, smiling. She glared harder. He chuckled. She wanted to throw something at him.
“Have some coffee, Kyla. Lack of caffeine is making you grumpy.”
“You’re making me grumpy. Just who do you think you are, anyway? What kind of an egotistical megalomaniac just scoops someone out of their life and keeps them prisoner for his own amusement?”
He didn’t answer.
“I don’t wanna be here. I want you to let me go.”
He blinked at her and said nothing.
“Seriously!”
“I know you’re serious.”
“But you don’t care?”
“I care. Surprisingly.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Drink your coffee, Kyla.”
Kyla let out a little “grrr” and took a sip of her coffee. She didn’t expect it to taste so good. She quickly took a second sip and then took a deep breath and closed her eyes, in coffee ecstasy. This was some seriously good coffee and she knew her coffee. She quirked up her brows.