Paranormal Vampire Romance: Fatal Allure Box Set (Books 1-3) (Vampire, Alphas, Werewolves & Shifters, Detectives, Mysteries Romance)

Home > Other > Paranormal Vampire Romance: Fatal Allure Box Set (Books 1-3) (Vampire, Alphas, Werewolves & Shifters, Detectives, Mysteries Romance) > Page 27
Paranormal Vampire Romance: Fatal Allure Box Set (Books 1-3) (Vampire, Alphas, Werewolves & Shifters, Detectives, Mysteries Romance) Page 27

by Woods, Martha


  “Your hunter boy toy is busy right now. He probably won’t be home until dawn, if at all. Do you want to know what he is doing right now?” she asks, as if reading my thoughts.

  “Not particularly,” I say as I press the button on the elevator to go down.

  “He doesn’t like sharing his life with you, does he?”

  “He shares a good part of his life with me.”

  “Then why wasn’t he there to save you from Charlie? He would never give up the hunter life for you.” Olivia puts pity into her voice. It makes my teeth clench.

  “I don’t know. I don’t care,” I say, stepping into the elevator. Olivia floats in beside me.

  “But you do. You’re human, you have those useless kinds of emotions,” she says.

  “Those emotions aren’t bad things,” I say. I try to imagine a human suddenly becoming an unfeeling dead thing. Is it true what some of the vampire lore states, that vampires really don’t feel anything? I can’t believe that. I have been in Vincent’s head. I have felt things with him. Here I am being forced to work for an evil bitch but still trying to advocate for vampires being like humans.

  “I try to remember my humanity from time to time. It’s a terrible nightmare,” Olivia says. The door to the elevator opens and we both exit. There is no one in sight at the moment. Olivia’s heels seem loud against the solid ground as we walk towards my car. It could just be how jumpy I am.

  “I like my humanity,” I mutter, not really knowing what else to say. We get to my car and I open the door for her. I see my knife laying right there. She’s so close, but I carefully pick it up and toss it in the backseat. Olivia pats my head again as if to say good girl. She slides inside my car and shuts the door. I go around to the driver’s side and climb in.

  “I think I could keep you around. I can’t enthrall you into liking me, but I tend to grow on others. They find me irresistible,” Olivia says as she runs a hand across my leg. My lower body clenches involuntarily at the touch.

  “You’re a very attractive lady,” I say, concentrating on pulling out of my apartment complex. I keep the vision of Vincent tied to a wall firm in my head. That is enough to turn me off of her charms.

  “Thank you,” she says simply, pulling her hand back. I let out a breath. “I’m very pleased with Vincent for sleeping with you,” she adds.

  My cheeks flush. I am not about to talk about my sex life with her. She had ordered him to bed me, but I had done it willingly. I do hope that he had not tried to seduce me because of her order. That little worm of doubt worm wants to wriggle itself into my head or heart. Whichever one is extra stupid right now.

  “I’m horrible with directions. I don’t have a car. I hope you can find your way to my home,” Olivia says.

  “Is this some kind of test?” I ask.

  “Oh, it is. You’d better speed a bit as well. You’ve got less than an hour to get me there,” she says. “I don’t think I have to elaborate on what will happen if you don’t, but I can. I’m particularly good at details.”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  I let my mind go back to what I dug out of Charlie’s brain. I open up what Faye likes to call my third eye, where I store whatever psychic gifts I have been given. The information is there as if it has always been. It mixes with the previous drive I took to Olivia’s house, though back then, since Vincent made so many turns, I couldn’t follow. Now I wonder if he took those turns to confuse me, so I would not try to return on my own. My mental GPS-cues in, and I flick on my turn signal at the light to turn left and head out of the city. Olivia sits beside me, nodding her head with approval.

  “No police will stop you,” she says.

  I hit the interstate and push on the gas pedal. I usually only drive ten miles over the speed limit but this time I crank it up to twenty. Olivia begins to fiddle with my radio, trying to find a station she likes. She flicks through the channels, making noises of disgust every time music starts to play. It’s mildly distracting but I try to focus on the road and where my mind is telling me to go.

  I take an exit that seems rarely used, there are no gas stations or hotels or food places along the road, and I have to slam on my brakes at the sudden sharp curves. While my body is flung forward a bit, Olivia, who isn’t even wearing a seatbelt, is entirely unfazed by it. I make a right turn and continue driving, as quickly as I dare.

  A strange thing happens the closer we get to her house: I start to feel Vincent. His energy starts to pull me towards him, and I don’t need the directions anymore. His presence calls to me; I feel it sing across my skin. I begin to feel his thirst and lick my lips, swallowing several times. Olivia is observing me quietly as I push my car faster towards her house. I nearly miss a turn and have to slam on my breaks, throwing my body forward again, but luckily not too badly. I’m held in my seat by that handy-dandy seatbelt.

  I turn into a driveway that is really just overgrown grass. The house looks run down, abandoned, like one of those old Victorian mansions that are often found in horror films. Lights are flickering inside. Olivia looks at her nails as I turn the car off, trying to keep myself from bolting into the house to see Vincent. He can sense me as well, and there are mixed feelings. I can draw out relief, fear, and anger. Or maybe those are my own feelings, I’m not really sure anymore.

  “Well, human Amy, you got here with twenty minutes to spare. Good job. Now get my door for me,” Olivia says.

  I get out of my car and walk around to open her door. She slides out of it and pats my cheek before walking in front of me. I want to bolt to that front door. I know Vincent is kept underground. I want to put my senses out to feel all the energy in the house but his is all consuming. I wonder if it is because I have had his blood or if it is because he has had mine; probably a mixture of both.

  I keep my steps even, with as much control as I can muster. I wish I brought my knife with me. I can better control my powers when I touch it. Olivia is whistling a tune as she walks to the door. It opens as soon as we get to it and I glance at her personal pet, Mabel, who does not look pleased to see me. Mabel has her hair dyed half black and half white. There is nothing unusually lovely about her other than the way I imagine Olivia dresses her up. Tonight, she is wearing a black maid’s outfit that looks to be out of an old film, tailored to fit her body more attractively – a sexed-up version that holds a traditional flair to it.

  “Mistress.” She says the word like it is the oxygen she breathes.

  I rip my mind away from my desire to find Vincent to look at the cobwebs around her brain that Olivia has weaved. There are not a lot of them, as if she has not used vampire glamour to hold Mabel here. There is sincere affection for the mortal woman – a nauseating thought.

  “Stay out of her head,” Olivia hisses. Well, it looks like I might have found a little soft spot in the vampire. Apparently, she did care about some humans, though I am not sure what there is about Mabel that makes her care. I let my mind drift back to Vincent and start walking forward into the house. Olivia grips my shoulder, stopping me.

  “It’s cute how you want to go running to him, but we don’t run. We will walk slowly,” she says.

  I nod my head and wait for her to move in front of me.

  Instead, she turns to Mabel, gently running the back of her hand over her cheek. Mabel nuzzles against it. She leans forward to kiss her, and I see Mabel’s arms tremble as if holding them back from wrapping around her mistress.

  “Miss me?” Olivia asks as she pulls her head back.

  “Always,” Mabel says. “It’s torture without you here.”

  “Mm, I’ll have to leave more often. Please get a room prepared for our guest here,” she says, motioning towards me.

  Mabel frowns, then glares at me. I get a strange feeling that my guest room is going to have hidden knives everywhere.

  “Be a good girl, Mabel, I’m expecting Miss Amy to be taken care of like she is one of my own,” Olivia says, her voice going ha
rd.

  Mabel lets out a whimper and bows her head before scuttling off.

  “I’ll be staying here?” I ask, waiting for Olivia to move.

  “Until the task is either completed or failed, yes.”

  I don’t feel like there is room to argue, but I do anyway.

  “I’ve got a job I’m expected at tomorrow and someone who is meeting me. If I don’t call, they’ll send out a search party for me,” I say. I still have human people who actually care about me.

  “Then I guess you’ll need to use a phone to cancel all of that,” Olivia says. “Try not to have them miss you too much.”

  I don’t know how easy it will be to cancel work and my meeting with Faye. It doesn’t look like I’m given much wiggle room, though. I wonder how easy it would be to sneak out of this place and back, but I’m not sure I can do it before the sun sets. Olivia waits patiently for my answer, and I just nod my head. Not a lot of choices with her.

  “Come, let us go see Vincent,” she says, motioning for me to follow her.

  I keep my pace even, one step in front of the other, as we walk through the house. I keep my gaze down instead of looking at the empty walls. There is little direction to the house, and it is as empty inside as it is out. I feel another vampire’s presence, other than Vincent, and it only jumps out at me because I’ve been in his head before. Charlie. Charlie is here somewhere with Cara.

  We begin walking down some stairs to the basement of the old mansion. Horror movies have taught me never to go down into the cellar. Olivia turns on a switch for my benefit, so I don’t trip and fall down the flight of stairs. I guess she doesn’t want me to break my neck accidentally, since that is something she would like to do with her own hands. I wonder what Vincent even saw in her as a human. Probably the alluring figure she could be when she isn’t reminding a person that she could torture them and would thoroughly enjoy it.

  The steps seem to stretch on a long way. The smell of rotting meat begins to intrude upon my senses, and I try not to gag. Olivia does not appear fazed by the scent. In fact, a little skip comes into her step the further we go. The rational part of my brain begins to scream that I might not want to see what is at the bottom of the basement. I might not want to see Vincent in this state. Dreams, nightmares, could be put away and compartmentalized until I wanted to explore them. Then there is Damon, who is there to hold me and chase all those negative feelings away. I miss his strong arms. I regret not finding the time to kiss him today, I could have actually used that strength.

  I stop at the last step. We have to turn a corner to see fully into the room. Olivia does not wait for me and goes forward. I take a deep breath through my mouth and follow, slowly bringing my gaze up to what lies in front of me.

  The room is large, spacious. I take in a couch near me, an elegant black one. Beside it there is a table full of torture instruments. I’m not even sure what they are. All sharp, bloody, in need of a good cleaning. With the blood are bits of skin and body parts that have dried up. I remember the way Charlie’s hand flaked away and wonder why it doesn’t from these instruments. I begin to get a little nauseous, and the need to drink something is almost overwhelming. I’m purposely keeping my eyes away from the figure chained to the wall across from the couch. I know he’s there, I can feel Vincent’s eyes on me. If he had to go through so much pain to save me, I know I have to look at him.

  My mind screams at me not to as I turn to face Vincent. He is not chained against the wall; his hands are nailed to it. I can see the large pins stuck through the palms of each hand, dried blood around them with just the faintest trickle of new blood. Vincent as I remember him is strikingly handsome with long blond hair, sharp masculine features, and muscles for miles. This Vincent is shriveled and looks more like a skeleton with chunks of meat hanging off of him. That is what’s left, pieces of flesh that have not been carved out. I can see the white of bone in some places. An average human would have died, but Vincent is a vampire. Olivia stands beside him, running the back of her hand over his skeletal face. His eyes are still a piercing blue and the only hint to me that he is not dead. They are looking all over the place, from me to Olivia, to the table with the bloody instruments beside it.

  I want to scream.

  “Don’t worry, Amy, he will go back to his usual self once he has fed adequately,” Olivia purrs.

  Vincent opens his mouth, and I can see his fangs are extended, except he is missing one of them.

  “He’ll have to drain a human completely to be himself again,” Olivia says, her smile brightening. “He hasn’t killed a human in close to a century. I do so look forward to it.”

  The thirst is surging up in me. I can feel the truth in her words. A little blood will do nothing to fix this craving. There is no way Vincent can be let free without him killing a human. Blood is all he can think about. All I can think about. I wish there was a way to block his hunger, to block these images. I can feel the blades on my skin, I can feel how they’ve dug in time and time again. I know that it took hours to make Vincent scream, but when he started, he couldn’t stop until there was nothing left inside of him. I lick my lips.

  “If I’m to work for you, then I need you to promise you’ll leave Vincent alone,” I say.

  “Alone?” Olivia repeats, running her hand through his tangled, bloodied hair. She has to rip her fingers through it, and I can feel it tug at my own hair. I cry out because Vincent can’t.

  “Oh, so interesting. Having you this close to him causes you real pain. It must have been the transfer of blood. You must be able to create a bond much quicker,” she says. I don’t really like what she says.

  “I guess you can’t stay here if I hurt him.” Olivia presses a kiss to his cheek and moves away. I hate her so much right now.

  “So do you promise?” I ask.

  “Only if you promise to get a human for him,” Olivia says, her smile widening and her fangs gleaming.

  I swallow hard. I don’t know if I can do that. Could I actually go against humanity that much to save Vincent? Why am I even considering going that far?

  “When do you want me to start?”

  She giggles. “Tomorrow night, we will begin. Mabel can fill you in with the details before I get up. You’re not to leave. She will provide you with a phone to make the calls you need,” Olivia says.

  I nod my head, needing to be out of this room.

  “I need my knife from the car. It helps me focus,” I say.

  “Why would I trust you to be armed?”

  “Because you have almost everything I care for in this house. I can feel Charlie in here, and I know he has Cara. You can hurt me physically through Vincent. I could go on and on about all the reasons I won’t attack you,” I say.

  “Do you fear me?” she asks.

  “I do.” Olivia is a vampire to her core; I don’t know if there is anything human left inside of her. I feel like a bunny trying to make peace with a snake so it won’t die.

  “You may get it, then Mabel will take you to your room,” Olivia says.

  “You have any promises that she won’t kill me?” I ask.

  “Mabel won’t kill you or harm you. I’ll give her instructions she can’t refuse. Though she may still have that urge in her. She doesn’t like competition for my affection,” Olivia purrs.

  “I can tell,” I say. My head is throbbing. I need to get out of here. I look at Vincent and try to send him a mental message, but I don’t know if it will work. I’ll get you out of here.

  It’s so faint – I can barely feel his mind touch mine. It makes my spine shiver, but I keep as still as possible so maybe Olivia won’t notice.

  Vincent speaks two words inside my head. Please don’t.

  Chapter 7

  Send me FREE romance novels!

  I nearly run up the stairs to get out of the basement, and I don’t look back to see if Olivia is following me. I know that she isn’t hurting Vincent at the moment, but that
doesn’t stop him from hurting. No one follows me when I go outside, and Mabel isn’t there at the door, but I can feel eyes on me. I stop when I’m near my car and take in a long, deep breath, trying to center myself with the world around me like Faye has been teaching me. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to talk Faye out of sending a hunting party to find me. Somehow I don’t think Tristian or Damon is a match for Olivia, who feels much older than any other vampire I’ve been around. I also get the feeling that losing Vincent might do something atrocious to me, and Olivia’s death means his death. If she can be trusted. No way to actually find that out, and I’m not one for testing theories when my life is at stake.

  I’m slow to get my knife from the backseat, but when I touch it, I suddenly feel more in control over the things I’ve been feeling. I can block out Vincent, and most importantly, the pain and thirst. If I focus, I now know where Charlie is in the house; I can sense Cara with the cobwebs over her brain. I think about removing them, but having no plan afterward causes me to hesitate. Olivia really has me in a trap right now, and all I can do is go along with her. Hopefully, I can get everyone out alive.

  I walk reluctantly back to the house, where Mabel is standing, as still as a vampire, except she’s breathing. She can’t stop that natural human need. I wonder what would happen if I removed her cobwebs, but I don’t think she would run out of the house screaming. No, Mabel definitely has an attraction to Olivia that is more than just vampire mind games.

  “Your room is ready,” she hisses at me.

  “Uh, thanks,” I say, standing at the door. “Where is it?”

  “I’ll lead you to it,” she says, her voice full of disdain. Removing the cobwebs might mean Mabel killing me. I unconsciously hold my knife just a little tighter.

 

‹ Prev