by Callie Rose
Winona’s red face darkens a few extra shades and she busies herself with her food instead of responding.
Gretchen glances at Ji-yoo. “How ’bout you?”
Ji-yoo grins, tossing her sleek black hair over her shoulder. “Connor and Bastian.”
“Ooh, a twofer,” Demi says excitedly. “I got Frederick and Gabriel, which wasn’t too bad.”
“Gabriel’s a sweetheart.” Gretchen smiles almost fondly, making my stomach turn a little.
“I can’t remember any of their names,” Chelsea says, her voice a bit too bright. There’s a strain in it, but she’s trying to hid it. “But they all gave me desserts after.”
“All?” Winona asks sharply. “How many?”
“Um… four? No, five. I was really dizzy by the end of the night.” She laughs quietly, looking down at the table. “But it was probably just all the sugar.”
Sure it was. Keep telling yourself that, kid.
Jessica still hasn’t said anything. She hasn’t eaten anything either. I frown and touch her shoulder. She jumps hard enough for her knees to hit the table.
“Hey.” I hold up my hands, alarmed. “Are you okay?”
She nods, but her hands are shaking. I drop my voice as the conversation continues around us, voices blending together. “Did someone feed from you last night?”
Jessica nods again, trembling harder. I narrow my eyes. She was plenty scared and freaked out the last time I saw her yesterday, but it wasn’t like this. Now she looks… traumatized.
“Who?” I demand. “Who was it?”
She doesn’t answer me, but her eyes slide sideways as a hulking shadow falls over our table. She turns even paler, her hands clenching into fists around the tablecloth. I look up to see a broad-shouldered man with bad posture and a shaved head glaring down over the table with unnaturally blue eyes. His features alone—high cheekbones, full lips, and regal nose—should make him attractive, but they sit wrong on his skull somehow.
“You,” he says, pointing at me. “Come with me.”
Jessica gives me a look I recognize from years of foster-shuffling, and my stomach clenches.
Pity.
Fuck. This must be the guy who bit her last night. As much as I didn’t want to go with this asshole before, I really don’t want to go now. I don’t know her all that well, but Jessica strikes me as a reasonably strong person. She got over her tears and rallied last night, yet this vampires has rendered her shaky and speechless—and not in a good way.
But I don’t really have a choice, do I?
The vampire’s heavy brows lower over his glowering eyes when I hesitate, and I stand up quickly before he can lose his temper.
He doesn’t waste a word on me, just grabs me by the elbow and hustles me through the room like he’s got a train to catch. I drag my feet a little bit on purpose. I don’t like being manhandled this way, and he hasn’t earned anything even close to obedience from me. I can’t openly disobey or fight him, but I don’t have to just go along with him like a meek little doll.
He takes me to a little room down the corridor from the dining hall and tosses me inside carelessly, releasing my arm so fast I have to stumble to keep my feet under me.
“What, no introduction?” I ask dryly, even as my heart thumps heavily against my ribs.
Sass will definitely not help this situation, but I can’t stop myself. I’m nervous and tense, and the way he’s glowering at me isn’t helping at all.
The vampire doesn’t answer me. He pushes at the door, although it doesn’t close all the way. Not that it matters. It’s not like help would come if I screamed, not in this place. His shoulders round as he advances on me like the great hulking predator he is, light blue eyes flashing with hunger and malice.
The second he reaches me, he shoves my shoulders against the wall and pulls my head to the side hard enough to make my neck pop. I hiss out a breath, grimacing in pain.
He doesn’t bother priming my skin. He doesn’t even give me a warning.
He just bites, hard, approximately where my jugular is but just off-center enough that I can feel the hot blood pool under my skin. He sucks it out savagely, ripping it from me, and every cell in my body rebels at the intrusion. My breakfast lurches in my stomach, threatening to rise up my throat.
It burns like a strangling fire, and he’s pressing so hard it feels like he’s trying to break my neck with his mouth. I can’t relax, not even a little bit. My shoulders twitch, my hips squirm, and my hands curl into claw-like fists, no matter how hard I try to stay still. I can’t calm down, my heart is racing.
I’ve been hurt worse in the field. I can take this.
That’s what I keep trying to tell myself, but it’s not helping. This is different. It’s not the heat of battle, and I’m not allowed to fight back.
He’s ripping my life force away, stealing something from me that I should never have to give up. I’m having trouble seeing as pain explodes like black stars in my vision, and my head is pounding in time with his vicious, thirsty mouth.
I can’t fight it anymore, I can’t keep my mouth shut—a cry escapes my lips, thin and hoarse. He doesn’t care though. If anything, he just starts sucking at my neck harder, like he’s determined to pull out every drop.
“James!” A deep, gruff voice cuts through the air, cracking like a whip. “Let her go.”
Chapter Thirteen
I almost throw up when James yanks his fangs from my neck. It hurts even worse than when he bit down.
His mouth is smeared with blood, staining his lips bright red. It’s dripping off his teeth and chin like he’s some kind of fucking animal. And it’s still pouring out of me. He never closed the holes.
He turns toward the door, and I follow his gaze to find the owner of the voice. A ripple of shock washes through me when I see Rome standing in the doorway. His broad-shouldered frame seems to take up nearly the entire thing, and his blue-black eyes are focused on James. I swallow hard and immediately regret it as the pressure pushes blood out of me faster.
“What the fuck do you want?” James growls. “Can’t you see I’m feeding?”
“Is that what you call what you’re doing?” Rome shoots back, his voice hard.
“I don’t have to listen to you.” James practically spits the words out, spattering flecks of blood everywhere as he talks. “It’s not like anyone around here respects you anymore anyway.”
Rome steps forward, radiating intimidation. Real intimidation, not the hulking mess this animal was posing with.
“I would be shocked if anyone respects you either,” he growls. “You look like a pig at a fucking trough when you feed. It’s disgusting.”
The animal standing in front of me flushes, curling his lip at Rome. As much as he claims not to care what the other vampire thinks, the insult obviously got under his skin. My heart flutters weakly as alarm bells go off inside my mind. James obviously has issues controlling his temper, and there are two possible hotheaded responses to Rome’s words—one of which would end with my head flying across the room. I’m too scared to feel properly relieved when he chooses the other option. He backs away from me and gestures at the mess on my neck, giving a mocking little flourish of his hand.
“You wanna show me how it’s done, big guy? Be my fucking guest.”
James crosses his arms defiantly and cocks his bloody chin up at Rome, his ice-blue eyes glinting with petty fury.
I’m dizzy and sick, but I meet Rome’s eyes as his gaze flicks to me, determined not to show more fear than I already have. I can see the heat and hunger in his dark eyes, but there’s something else too. I can’t quite believe that it’s… concern. I’m going to chalk that illusion up to wishful thinking.
He doesn’t move for a long moment, and I can’t decide whether I hope he’ll accept James’s challenge or not. On the one hand, the idea of another vampire feeding on me right now, drinking from the shredded holes in my neck, makes me feel like I might vomit. On the other hand, if he say
s “fuck it” and leaves, I’ll be alone with James again.
And I’m not sure I could survive that at this point, even if I fight back.
When Rome nods slowly, my heart lurches. He walks over to me, and my knees shake so hard as he approaches that they threaten to come out from under me. I can’t take this kind of pain again, not without a damn weapon in my hand. I expect him to go for my throat right away, the way Jack the fucking Ripper did, but he takes my chin in his hand instead and tilts my gaze up to meet his.
His irises are dark, so dark they’re almost black—but from this close, I can see shades of blue and something like violet in them. India ink spilled on a kaleidoscope under a puddle of oil after a heavy rain.
Fuck, I’m losing it.
Keep your shit together, Mikka. It’s not that much blood, dammit.
“What’s your name?” he asks me softly.
“Darcy,” I murmur. It’s becoming like second nature now to give that answer. Shit, am I bonding with my spur of the moment stripper name? God forbid.
“My name is Rome. It’s nice to meet you, Darcy. I won’t hurt you.”
Yeah, sure you won’t.
Instead of saying that out loud, I let my gaze slip from his, down to where the floor meets the wall. It’s a passive gesture, and it doesn’t sit right with me. I hate this, all of it. It’s fucking with me so much worse than I ever imagined it would. I haven’t felt this helpless since I was a kid. Mostly because I’ve had knives in my hands ever since I knew how to use them, and I could always fight my way out of a tight spot.
Not this time. Maybe not ever again.
Keeping my chin tilted up, Rome drops his face to my neck. I suck in a short breath, bracing myself for more pain and that horrible wrenching feeling of having blood sucked from my body too fast.
But he still doesn’t bite me.
Instead, he licks me.
He’s licking my neck clean, I realize with a jolt. I feel like a wounded stray, and it takes everything in me not to whimper as I feel the wounds close under his magic touch. I’ve seen vampires do this after biting before, but I’ve never experienced it and had no idea what it felt like. My skin tingles a little as whatever it is in vampire saliva that gives it healing properties goes to work. The sharp pain subsides, soothed away by the warm, sure strokes of his tongue.
After a while, he moves his mouth away, and his large, strong hands come to rest on my sore neck. He rubs it gently, working out the knots left there from James’s rough handling, then gently tips my head the other way. The stretch feels amazing, and my eyelids droop a little.
Dropping his head once more, Rome breathes on my skin, tracing his tongue over my neck, pressing it against my pulse. His hands rest on my hips as he presses his lips against my throat, teasing me with his fangs, giving just a little pressure without penetrating. He works his lips and teeth and tongue up and down the line of my neck, from ear to shoulder and back again, until my skin is hot and my heart beats hard. The heat spreads as he finds a spot he likes and presses just a bit harder, sending warmth dripping down my neck, down my body, into my belly and between my legs.
I gasp when he finally penetrates my skin, but it’s not from pain. The sensation isn’t any more painful than a piercing or a tattoo—nothing like when James tore at me like a dog with a bone. There’s a different feeling this time, more powerful than pain, more powerful than anything I can remember.
It’s primal.
Intimate.
Heat swirls through me, and my head rolls back, giving Rome even more access. I groan as my pulse beats hard in my throat, the heavy throb echoing in my core.
Rome’s hands are hot against me, pulling me closer. One presses into my back, holding me tight against him. His powerful thighs press against mine as he runs his other hand up my body, over my ribcage, brushing against my breast without actually caressing it. A little moan escapes me, and I realize with a shock that he’s hard. The thickness of his cock pulses against my belly, and my body responds, an irresistible molten need swirling through the deepest parts of me.
My arms are around him, nails digging into his shoulders. I don’t know when that happened, or when I started grinding against him, but I don’t want to stop.
I don’t ever want him to stop.
He’s still drinking from me, and every soft pull on my throat might as well be his tongue on my clit or his cock inside me. My head starts to spin, and I tremble as I arch against him, seeking something that feels just out of reach.
No wonder they call orgasms “little death.” He could kill me like this, and I’m not sure I’d even care.
But just as I’ve accepted a pleasurable death at Rome’s mouth, he pulls away.
Licking me slowly and sensually, he closes the wounds he’s opened. His mouth lingers for a moment, breathing on the sensitive skin, then he kisses my neck tenderly and pulls away. The look on his face sends an aftershock through me—I’ve only ever seen him look hard and cold, coolly disinterested or pissed off. But none of those things describe the way he looks right now.
His expression is full of heat, full of passion. His eyes are even darker than before, his pupils dilating so much that they’ve squeezed his irises into tiny rings. He breathes a heavy sigh, and it catches in his throat.
My skin is flushed and hot. I’m staring at him, unblinking, unable to look away. I can’t help it. I’m shocked and completely overwhelmed—I never imagined it could be like that.
I’m so turned on, so desperately close to coming. I’m afraid to take a step, afraid to even move, in case that little bit of friction sends me over the edge. I force my hands away from Rome’s shoulders, because all I want to do is pull him close, grind on him some more, and let nature take its course from there.
“Are you all right?” he asks, his voice low and a little rough.
I nod dumbly, not trusting myself to make words right now. What could I possibly say besides take me, I’m yours?
Someone nearby scoffs, snapping the almost trance-like state I’m in. My body jerks slightly, the peak of arousal beginning to fade like waves drawing back on a beach as I glance over Rome’s shoulder.
Oh, right, that fucking creep James. I forgot he was here.
“Very nice,” he says sarcastically, his lips pulling back in a sneer. “But if we have to romance all our fucking blood bags, what’s the point of even having them?”
Before Rome can answer, James slouches away, grumbling something about fast food and convenience stores.
I stop listening as soon as he passes through the doorway. I can barely hear a thing with my heart thundering in my ears, and I can’t seem to find my equilibrium with Rome still gazing down at me.
I don’t understand what just happened between us, but I know that on some level, it was much more dangerous than getting gnawed on by a vicious vamp.
Chapter Fourteen
As the buzz in my body slowly dies down, my rational brain switches frantically back on. I’m still turned on, terribly turned on, but at least I’m thinking semi-clearly again.
Rome wipes a few drops of blood off my shoulder, a few that he missed when cleaning up the other guy’s mess, and frowns sternly at the stain on his thumb.
“Not all vampires are… civilized,” he says, his mouth twisting in disgust. He turns those dark eyes back to mine, pinning me in place with the intensity of his gaze. “If any of them ever hurt you again, come tell me. I’ll handle it.”
I nod. I’m not planning on doing that at all, but I’ll agree with him for now. He is, after all, the apex predator in the room. I really want to know what he did to get on everybody’s bad side. How many brutal feedings did he have to interrupt to get himself banished from the palace? How long was he gone before he was allowed to return, and who still holds a grudge?
These questions and more are pressing against my throat, but I swallow them. I can’t afford to be curious about this man. I’m already in too deep, and this place is fucking with my emotions way
more than I was prepared for. My feelings used to be my compass, but now they’re spinning like a top, and I feel like I couldn’t find north if my life depended on it.
Which it does, I remind myself firmly.
The only way to get out of this alive is to get out quickly. The longer I stay here, the worse all of this is going to get.
“Thank you,” I say to Rome, shifting awkwardly. The fire inside me is down to its last embers now. If I can just get out of this room without touching him again, I should be able to put it out entirely. He nods his head to me in an almost gentlemanly sort of way and holds out an elbow.
“Let me take you back to the dining hall.” Another look of irritation and anger darkens his features. “James never has let a tribute finish their meal.”
I thank him again, wishing I had invested some of my education into learning how to make small talk. All I want to do is slip away from him, but I’m starting to understand the way things work around here. From the dining hall to the female tribute quarters, I’m free to move around. Anywhere else, I should have an escort.
So I let Rome take me back to the great hall. Once we’re there, I wait until his back is turned to slip away. I don’t really feel like going back to sit down with the other girls and facing a bombardment of questions. Given how unsettled my emotions are right now, I’m sure I’d end up saying something I couldn’t take back. Knowing me, it would be something way out of the character I’m supposed to be playing, something snarky and harsh—an overcompensation for the conflict brewing inside me.
There’s really only one way to handle this.
The vampire palace and everyone in it is throwing me off balance, fucking with me, unraveling me. And the only way to stop that is to get out.
I have to make headway on the next part of my rescue plan. I have to find a way out, and I have to do it now.
As I creep away from the dining hall, I see other tributes wandering around unattended. They all have the same glossed-over look on their faces, and it sends a shudder down my spine. Some of them grant me a dreamy smile as they pass, but their eyes don’t quite focus when they look at me. It occurs to me that I’ve been doing this all wrong, trying to creep around when the vampires are sleeping—because when they’re awake, they’re busy feeding on tributes and apparently just dumping them wherever and letting them find their own way back.
