My hand shook. My breath caught in my throat. At that moment the knob of the door began to turn. I fisted the ring, but I didn’t have time to shut the lid on the jewelry box.
Marcus stepped inside. His expression darkened when he saw me. “Who do we have here?”
My heart raced to unnatural speeds inside my chest.
“This room is off limits.”
I swallowed and tried to control my voice. “I’m sorry. I needed privacy. I was upset.”
“And what or whom has caused such upset, my pet?” His voice amplified inside my ears as he approached. There was no hair on Marcus’s chest, only rock solid muscles where his shirt gaped open.
“Fane,” I whispered. I hoped he mistook the panic in my voice for heartache, but that wasn’t what made my heart pump its way up my throat as I stood trapped inside Marcus’s bedroom. Marcus, Mike’s killer. Mike’s real killer. And that possibly meant Crist’s killer, too.
“Francesco and Noel,” Marcus said knowingly. “Do not worry your pretty little head over Francesco. There are other bats in the sky.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, meeting Marcus’s eyes. “I’m sorry I intruded on your personal space.” Move feet, move. I took my first step toward him, then the next, and began to pass. My heart called out to the open door. I could make it. I’d never felt so close to escape.
“Aurora, what is in your hand?”
That should have been my cue to run, but I froze in place. My fist tightened. I turned around, not wanting to keep my back to Marcus. “Nothing.”
Marcus chuckled. “Why is a human’s first reaction to lie?”
I shrugged. “Survival instinct?”
Marcus smiled. “A good instinct to have.” He nodded at my fist. “Let’s have a look.”
I fought the urge to glance at the open door. No sudden movements or visible signs of panic seemed like the best advice in this situation. I lifted my fist slowly, trying to buy myself time. My fingers curled back. Mike’s ring sat in my palm.
“Ah,” Marcus said.
“Why did you kill him?” I asked calmer than I thought was possible.
“I didn’t kill the boy, Aurora. You did.”
I screwed up my face. “How do you figure that?”
“You brought him here.”
“He followed me,” I said defensively, despite my predicament. Just because Marcus had me cornered didn’t mean I was going to let him pin a murder on me. Why couldn’t vampires own up to their actions? “The moment I saw him, I escorted him out. I walked him to his car. How did you get to him?”
Marcus stretched, at ease as always. His neck popped when he leaned to the side. “The boy came back for his jacket.”
“I told him I’d bring it to school.”
“He came back,” Marcus said firmly. “And because he knew you and had come here, I thought he knew of our existence. So I invited him on a personal guided tour. I found us a cozy little room and went in for a bite. Do you know what happened, Aurora?”
I felt my throat closing. I shook my head ever so slightly. I didn’t want to hear. I closed my eyes for one brief moment.
“He started screaming.”
I opened my eyes and looked into Marcus’s cold gaze.
“I had no choice,” he said, devoid of emotion. “You left me no choice.”
I shook my head. Tonight wasn’t my night to feel guilty. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t want Mike to like me. I didn’t want him at the palace. I didn’t want him to die. The culpability stabbed at my insides.
“And you leave me with no choice now,” Marcus said. He sighed and grabbed my arm. He was so quick he had his hand clamped over my mouth before I could scream. Mike’s ring fell from my fingers, clattering against the floor.
24
We Die Young
Marcus hauled me with him to the door before slamming it shut. I struggled to break free of his hold. His grip tightened and I stomped on his foot. He squeezed my arms so tightly, tears leaked from my eyes. He had the same brutal strength as Jared.
I kept waiting for him to bite me so I could put an end to this nightmare evening, but he didn’t. Naturally I’d get the gay killer vampire.
He pulled me down as he squatted in front of his dresser. My knees hit the floorboards. He pulled open the bottom dresser drawer. It was filled with leather bondage material.
My eyes widened as he pulled out a roll of duct tape, ripped a piece off with his teeth, and slipped it over my mouth, sealing my lips together.
When I squirmed, Marcus simply said, “It’s not time yet.”
He looked so determined, and it nearly took my breath away. Not that I had any breath with my mouth taped shut.
Marcus wrapped my wrists in duct tape, pushed me on the bed, and taped my ankles together. It reminded me of Thomas—human Thomas—the boy I’d taped to a chair in Fairbanks before Dante interrogated and killed him. Karma was one twisted bitch.
I tried to pull my wrists free while Marcus closed the door and rummaged through his closet. He returned with a stepladder and steel bar attached to chains and a snap hook.
Oh fuck.
Marcus grinned slightly as he unfolded the stepladder near the foot of the bed. He moved up the steps, reached up and attached the snap hook to a metal hook in the ceiling. My eyes expanded in my head. I would have preferred a disco ball, that’s for sure.
Once the bar was hanging in place, he stepped down. While Marcus crouched over his drawer of playthings, I rolled across the bed. I meant to stop at the edge, lift up, and hop toward the door, but in my panic I rolled right off the edge and hit the floor with a wham. Maybe someone downstairs would hear. Ha, fat chance.
The leg I landed on throbbed. Marcus didn’t bother turning from his drawer until he’d found what he wanted. He pushed the drawer closed and stood up. He turned, holding leather wrist cuffs and a pair of scissors.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. It was useless, I knew, but I tried to scoot away from him.
Marcus crouched beside me and began snipping away the tape around my wrists. I tried to beat him with both hands bound together. I didn’t care if he cut me. Maybe he’d see the blood and give it a lick.
Somehow, he managed to cut through the tape without cutting me. Once my hands were free, I attempted to punch him, but he caught my right fist and shoved it inside the first handcuff. Marcus tightened the strap around my wrist. All the while I struggled. Clearly he’d had practice.
He grabbed my second wrist and shoved it in.
Marcus cut the tape around my ankles then lifted me to my feet and toward the ladder. I thrashed against him. I hated the way he didn’t so much as grunt, as though dragging an unwilling victim across the room wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
He hauled me up the steps and yanked my right arm up so hard I was afraid he’d pull it out of the socket. A chain rattled overhead as he hooked my cuffed wrist to the suspension bar. I beat his chest with my left fist, but Marcus captured it easily and hooked it to the other side of the bar. Thus secured, he stepped down, taking the ladder with him.
I hung suspended by the wrists from Marcus’s ceiling, a foot off the floor.
He refolded the stepladder gently and propped it against the wall.
Marcus stood in front of me, surveying his work with a smile of satisfaction. I tried to kick at him, glaring all the while. Marcus took a step back. “Now, feel free to struggle all you want. It won’t do any good. I should know.” Marcus let out a deep throaty laugh. “I wish I could offer you a playmate, but this will have to do until my guests depart.” He looked me up and down. “I never did give you the full tour, Aurora. Once we’re alone I’ll show you my music room.”
I stopped struggling and stared wide-eyed at him. Marcus shook his head grimly. “Such a pity.”
He backed out of the room. I tried to scream his name before he walked out the door, but it was no use. The door clicked shut behind him.
I twisted from side to side. That wasn’t an
y use, either, but I wasn’t exactly in the mood to just hang around. The chains groaned over my head. I tried swinging forward, reaching my foot out to grab the edge of the bed. The only thing I managed to do was wiggle like a worm on a hook. My nostrils flared as I inhaled and exhaled rapidly.
I needed my knife. I kicked my feet, but the motion added extra strain on my outstretched arms. I tried bending my legs backwards. Even if I could touch the sheath around my waist with my toe, it wouldn’t do any good. There’s no way I could get under my sweater, get the knife out with my toes, and then magically lift it with my feet to my wrist and cut through the leather cuff. I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, but again, my mouth was taped shut!
Where the fuck was Fane? How could he miss my red scarf hanging from the hook downstairs? The steel suspension bar above me creaked. Maybe I didn’t want Fane to find me this way. Talk about humiliation.
I stopped fidgeting. I needed to save my energy for Marcus. Just one bite, that’s all it took. I closed my eyes and concentrated on calm breathing through my nose. Clearly I had the disadvantage. My arm muscles screamed with each passing second. Hopefully I wouldn’t need my arms, but who knew how long Marcus would keep the party going downstairs? I might be hanging here all night.
Oh God, is this what the rack felt like back in the day? This was seriously fucked.
I tried to think about other things to get my mind off my aching arms.
I would not die tonight. I refused. Hell would freeze over before I allowed my last moments on earth to involve walking in on Noel and Fane’s suckfest.
That’s right, Aurora. Concentrate on the anger, not the pain. After a while, I didn’t have the strength to think.
By the time Marcus returned, I was happy to see him. Tears ran down my cheeks. After opening the door, he took one look at my face and frowned. “My poor, poor pet. I tried to get them all to leave sooner, but they wanted to stay.”
He grabbed the stepladder from against the wall. As soon as he’d unfolded it, I set my feet down and started crying anew at the relief in my arms. I held still while Marcus unhooked me, even though I hated having his body pressed against mine. Through my nose I inhaled the smell of sweat and alcohol.
Marcus helped me to the edge of the bed. It didn’t take much coaxing to get me to sit. While I did, Marcus removed the cuffs and gently massaged each wrist. He stopped, looked me in the eye, then ripped the tape off my mouth in one swift motion.
Without warning I began crying. Even worse, Marcus started rubbing my back. “There, there.”
I needed this moment to compose myself. My arms felt limp and tingly. At least Marcus wasn’t in any hurry to kill me.
Once I had my sobbing under control, I glanced at the open door. “Where’s your partner?”
“This week it’s an art show in New York.”
“Does he know that you murder people when he’s out of town?”
“I keep Richard in the dark for his own protection. Now I’m very sorry,” Marcus said, “but it’s time we adjourned to the music room.”
I cried out when he took me by the arm. I didn’t think he meant to be rough, not yet anyway, but it didn’t hurt any less. Once the blinding pain passed, I asked, “Why did you kill Crist?”
“Who?” He paused with me in the doorway.
“Tall woman, dark brown shoulder-length hair. Late twenties or early thirties. Frown on her face.”
Marcus chuckled softly. “I think I left you hanging too long.”
Understatement of the year. The only reason I let him lead me down the hall is because I didn’t want pressure or pulling of any kind on either of my arms.
“Up or down?” I asked at the landing.
Marcus studied my face. “You’re taking this rather well, pet. You always were unusual.”
“Yeah, well, why fight the inevitable?” I answered.
“Wise beyond her time. Such a pity,” Marcus said again. “Ladies first.”
I took the steps one at a time. The last thing I needed was to trip and break my neck. I watched my feet the whole way down. Even though my arms were now free they felt about as useful as spaghetti noodles. I made it down the last step and looked into the living room.
The lamps glowed eerily from low bulbs. I’d never seen that area deserted. Fane really had left me here.
I quickly blinked back tears.
“To the right,” Marcus said.
I had never noticed anything to the right of the staircase. A narrow hall skirted the far wall. I followed Marcus down the corridor into a small room. As I suspected, there were no instruments in the music room but there were a couple giant speakers surrounding a massive stereo system.
The walls had gray sponge-like padding on them. Once I’d stepped inside, Marcus closed the door behind us. The familiar grip of terror seized my heart. This room reminded me way too much of my initiation room.
“What song would you like to die to, Aurora?”
I didn’t answer.
“Staying Alive? Somehow I don’t think that’s appropriate tonight.” Vampires really sucked at humor. “No last requests?” Marcus asked.
“Just one,” I said looking him square in the eye. “Bite me.”
Marcus grinned slowly. “I like you, Aurora. I always have. It’s such a pity to have to kill you, but you’ve given me no choice. I tell you what,” he said, leaning in closer. “Before I do, I’ll grant your last request.”
I leaned toward him like a lover leaning in for a kiss. I needed him to suck my blood. My life depended on it.
From the corner of my eyes I saw him go for my neck. Marcus’s teeth pierced through my skin instantly. It felt like a clean break compared to the ones before. Should have known Marcus would be smooth to the end.
His lips formed a suction on my skin. He sucked. The sensation caused me to momentarily forget my predicament and shudder. Marcus kept his hands on me while he sucked.
The warmth of his lips left my neck. He took a step back and stared me in the eye.
A second later he spit my blood out on the ground, his upper lip curling back.
I stared from the splatter of blood on the floor to Marcus in shock. He looked equally spooked. “You taste like death.”
“Marcus, I…” Oh God, he hadn’t swallowed my blood. I took a step back.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”
“You’re new, aren’t you? When did you die?” Marcus asked.
I shook my head again. What the hell did my blood taste like? Like Renard’s? Like the guy in the vamp house? Not quite human. Vampire.
It’s not as though I’d had an opportunity to ask before. Usually vampires swallowed after tasting my blood, which led to convulsion and death.
Did all AB blood taste this way, or did it have to be activated by a virus? And how the hell did Marcus know what vamp blood tasted like? My guess? He’d sampled vampires and humans alike!
He walked to my side and stroked my hair. “I should have known, my pet. I mistook your apprehension for something else. You must not worry about the boy. It was his fate to die. It is the fate of all humans, whether by our hands or the hands of time. The end result is the same.”
I suppose I should have felt relieved, but I was still trapped inside a padded room with an admitted killer, and he still had his hand in my hair.
All I had to do was go along with his theory. Play the newbie vamp card and be on my way. I tried to think of what to say. Yep, sucks to be human. Glad I’m not.
Marcus’s fingers slid over my hair again and again as though petting me. His hand suddenly stopped. I held my breath.
Marcus gathered a chunk of my hair in his fist and pulled. I screamed.
“What have you done to me?” His body began to shake, but he didn’t let go of my hair and he didn’t fall to the ground.
I tried to push away from him, but my arms felt like jelly. Instead, I dropped to the ground. My sc
alp screamed as a chunk of hair ripped out. I rolled quickly away the moment I hit the floor, and took a quick survey of the room.
Marcus grasped pieces of long black hair in his hand, staring in disbelief. His shoulders and head twitched. “I know what you are,” he said, looking at me. His voice had changed. He spoke to me like he would a stranger—an extremely unwelcome one.
Marcus lifted the strands of my hair in front of his face then let go and watched them fall to the ground. He walked slowly to the stereo system. With his back turned toward me, I reached around my waist. I willed the feeling back into my fingertips as I groped for my knife.
Marcus lifted a remote in a shaky hand. An electric guitar screeched through the speakers followed by heavy drums and a deep, raspy snarling voice from Alice in Chains’ “We Die Young.” Our disco days were definitely over.
I used my elbows to lift to my knees and then feet, clutching the hilt of my knife in a death grip.
Marcus turned. The convulsing put him at a disadvantage, but made him look manic the way he shook all over. I didn’t think he even noticed my knife; his eyes were narrowed in on my face. It was beyond creepy the way he moved toward me at the same time Layne Staley sang that scary was on his way—like the whole thing had been choreographed. Is this how Mike died? No, I didn’t want to think about that right now.
One side of my brain screamed at me to run for the door, but I couldn’t leave Marcus alive. What little blood he’d swallowed might wear off at any moment. Marcus knew a lot of vampires. I couldn’t allow him to alert any of them if I went running. Also, he’d killed Mike. And Crist. Maybe.
This whole double homicide had been playing Tetris inside my brain from the start. I kept trying to make all the pieces fit only to be bombarded by new information and uncertainties. It still didn’t stack up. The one thing I could be certain of was Marcus’s hand in killing Mike, and that’s what I needed to focus on right now. My head pounded with the music.
I backed away from Marcus. He came at me slowly and we circled the center of the room. Fucking déjà vu.
Northern Bites (Aurora Sky: Vampire Hunter, Vol. 2) Page 22
