Goosebumps peppered my arms and the hair on the back of my neck rose as I realized I had been in a trance.
I would later learn that I was in a state of enthrallment. A controlling technique commonly used by Vampires.
With this unsettling realization, a heavy wave washed over me, nearly knocking me off my feet. Fighting it, I turned my back to the man and took several deep and deliberate breaths to keep from fainting.
Misconstruing my near hyperventilation as some sort of long-repressed lusty reaction to an attractive man, Cara snorted at me. “Geez, that was fast!” she said, taking a sip of her drink.” So, who is it? Who’s the guy that already has you panting like a bitch in heat,” she remarked snidely, as her eyes scanned the crowd.
In all our time together, there had never been an occasion when I had wanted to tell her off so badly, but when I opened my mouth to retort to her nasty comment, I couldn’t speak. No words came out. And Cara, self-absorbed as she was, didn’t even notice. She went on, critiquing each man she saw before stopping in mid-sentence. “. . . Oh, shit,” she muttered, as the smile drained from her face. “Don’t tell me that it’s Mr.GQ over there that’s got you all hot and bothered.”
Although I knew he was, in fact, the man responsible for what was happening to me, I was too frightened by her sobered expression to admit it.
Risking a glance over my shoulder, I saw that he was no longer looking our way and I was able to choke out, “No. Why? Who is he?”
Cara swallowed hard and her red lips pressed in-to a grim line before she replied. “His name is David Blackwell. He’s Develyn’s brother. His twin brother.”
At this little revelation, I looked back over my shoulder in stunned silence. The man was still speaking with the cowgirl, who I noticed, was no longer smiling.
Well, I figured if her Develyn was as good looking as his twin was, then it certainly explained why Cara had been so determined to be at the party. But it did nothing to excuse her suddenly strange reaction to the man in the other room.
“So,” I began, turning back to her. “What do you know about him?”
“Nothing,” she spat before swallowing half of the remaining thick red liquid in her glass. “I’ve just heard things about him is all,” she said, glancing nervously about the room.
I was afraid to hear what she would say, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Oh? Like what?”
“Nothing big,” she said shortly, growing more agitated by the second. “Damn!” she cried with a grimace. “I gotta pee like a racehorse. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
“What? No, wait!” I hissed and reached out and grabbed her arm. “I’ll come with. . .”
When the music started again, Cara looked positively panicked. “Shit no, Emmy!” she exclaimed, yanking her arm free. “I don’t need you to go to the can with me. Just wait here! Gawd!” she cried. “Get a drink and relax! Or mingle! Or whatever! I don’t’ care what you do, just as long as you stay the hell away from him!” she said, jabbing her finger at the man in the other room.
I was about to tell her that she needn’t worry. I was going to keep away from David Blackwell, ‘cause I was leaving, with or without her. But figuring I could at least wait until she came back from the bathroom, I let her go without further argument.
I watched her make her way to the stairs and as she began to climb them, the song’s lyrics rang through my head and an overwhelming sense of danger came over me.
I recognized the song as the same one Cara had been playing in the car when I had first gotten in. It was Sweet Sacrifice by Evanescence.
As Cara’s stilettos disappeared from sight, I felt someone roughly brush past me. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw it was the cowgirl. She was practically shoving people aside as she hurried toward the front door. Once she reached it, she jerked it open and flew over the threshold without so much as a glance back.
Having witnessed the cowgirl’s hasty departure was the final straw for me. I knew something was seriously wrong and I decided it was time for Cara and me to make tracks as well.
I headed for the stairs, determined to find her and drag her, kicking and screaming if need be, from the bathroom and out of the creepy house. But before I could take more than a couple of steps, I was stopped by a gentle tap at my shoulder.
When I turned, I found the hippie standing there with his thumbs casually hooked through the belt loops of his faded jeans.
Judging by the deep creases in his face and the coloring of his hair I guessed he was in his early sixties. He had pale blue eyes and bushy white eyebrows that nearly touched at the top of his large bulbous nose. A full, white mustache covered both his top and lower lip and curled up at the ends.
And since I couldn’t see his lips move or hear over the deafening music, I assumed that by the way his handlebar mustache rose and fell, he must have been speaking to me, so I mimed the universal, ‘I can’t hear you’, sign.
With a knowing nod, he motioned with a jerk of his chin for me to come closer. When I did, he leaned in and said with a thick Irish accent, “I wouldn’t be doin’ that, gurlie.”
A little taken aback by such an unexpected warning, I pulled back and asked, “Why not?”
He signaled for me to close again and said, “‘Cause there’s some serious shite happenin’ up there and I’m thinkin’ you don’t really want any part of it.”
Naturally, I assumed he was referring to drugs, and I nodded that I understood and he was correct. I didn’t want any part of that scene. “Thanks for the warning, but I’m just going to get my friend and then we’re outta here.”
“Well, that tis a wise decision to be sure, but why don’t you go on ahead and wait outside. I’ll fetch yer friend fer ya and send her out straightaway,” he kindly offered. “She’s the short, busty blonde with the Bloody Mary, isn’t she?”
He seemed nice and his suggestion innocent enough, but I was instantly wary. I didn’t like the fact that he had been watching Cara and me closely enough to describe her like that and I pulled back, taking another step away.
With a shake of my head, I shouted at him, “Yeah, but I’ll just go find her myself. Thanks anyway,” flashing him an uneasy smile.
His mustache twitched and he shook his head gravely at me. “I’m sorry, but I can’t be lettin’ you go up there,” he hollered back before he reached out and clamped his hand around my right forearm.
Cold fear shot through me and I demanded that he let me go. I tried to jerk my arm free, but his grip was viselike, too strong for me to break, and he began easily pulling me toward the door.
Panicking, I called out for help, but only a hand-ful of people even glanced our way. And those who did appeared to be amused by what was happening.
Truly terrified at this point, I struggled harder. I was clawing and slapping at his hand when David Blackwell stepped in front of us.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Stryker and The Marking
For a split second, I thought I was being saved. As corny as it may sound, I thought David Blackwell was coming to my rescue. But as he stood there, towering over and glowering down at us, stone-faced and with his arms crossed over his chest, I doubted it. And when I felt myself slipping into another of his trances, I feared the worst.
I tried to fight it. To break his gaze, but the music faded away and everything around us seemed to disappear until all I could see were his dark eyes burning into mine. And all I could hear was his deep mesmerizing voice in my ears as he spoke.
“What seems to be the problem here, Robert?” he demanded in a clipped, British accent.
“This gurl here dinna want to leave without her friend. Wanted to go upstairs to find her.”
His left eyebrow rose slightly. “I see. And did you explain to the young lady why it wouldn’t be prudent to do such a thing.”
“Aye, sir. Even offered to fetch her friend for her, but she refused. Wanted to find the gurl herself.”
Again his eyebrow rose. “I
see. Well, it seems as though this young lady possesses more character than most.”
“Aye, sir. All the more reason to get her outta here before he comes down, I’m thinkin’.”
“Of course. Escort her from the property post haste. No, better still, all the way to her vehicle. I will find the willing whore who brought here and deal with her accordingly,” he said, his eyes narrowing angrily.
The moment David broke eye contact with me I had a stronger reaction than before and would have collapsed to the floor if Robert the hippie hadn’t been supporting me. And as we stood there, my mind was spinning because although I had been in a trance, I heard every word the men had exchanged.
It didn’t sound like I was in danger, but Cara, for whatever reason, definitely was. And if the look I saw in David Blackwell’s eyes, was any indication of what was in store for her, then I had to find her and get her out of there as soon as possible.
Reaching into my sweater pocket for the mace, I took it out and without a second thought, sprayed the hippie in the face.
Now, I had never used mace before so I didn’t know what to expect and I actually felt a twinge of pity when Robert growled and cursed in agony as he clamped his hands over his eyes.
Once I was free, I ran back toward the staircase, rushing past David, and as I reached the middle of it, I saw Cara emerge from the darkened hallway at the top.
I knew immediately that something was wrong with her. She was unsteady on her feet. Her hair was a mess, her lipstick was smeared and her right breast was nearly exposed above her corset.
By the time I reached her, she had managed to stumble down a few stairs, so I took her by the shoulders and forced her to sit where she was.
Shaking her gently, I asked what had happened, but she was unresponsive. She couldn’t keep her eyes open, let alone speak. And with a groan, she jerked away from me, knocking the can of mace from my grasp and sending it tumbling down the stairs.
I figured she had to have taken some sort of drug, so I knelt down on the stair in front of her feet and checked her over the best I could.
Her pupils were dilated. Her pulse was racing and her skin was cold and clammy. She was in shock. And judging by the very large-gauged needle puncture I found on the inside of her blood-smeared arm, my suspicion was confirmed.
Taking my sweater off, I wrapped it around her shoulders and began questioning her. “Cara, what did you inject yourself with? Tell me what you shot up with? C’mon, Cara,” I said, patting her cheek, “what did you take?”
With twitching eyelids, her head lolled back and forth. And with a snicker, she finally opened her eyes and looked at me. “You’re ss, so, ssstupid,” she slurred. “I didn’t take anything. I gave it. I gave and gave and gave,” she said, grinning drunkenly.
I had no idea what she was talking about and with a shake of my head, I angrily muttered, “What do you mean? What did you give?”
“The foolish woman is referring to her blood, Miss,” David said from behind me.
Startled, I whirled around and rose to face him. Even daring to meet his eyes. “What on earth are you talking about,” I demanded.
His tone was as clipped and hostile as before as he explained. “Your friend here has willingly participated in a bloodletting ceremony.”
I was of course shocked by this and I screeched at him, “Bloodletting! Are you serious?”
With a quirk of his dark brow, he simply nodded.
Glancing around at the pale faces staring at us, I ranted at them. “My God! Don’t you people know how dangerous this is? Haven’t you heard of a little thing called AIDS?! HIV?! Hepatitis?!”
When they only continued to stare blankly at me, I was disgusted by their seeming ignorance and I turned my attention back to David, telling him, “I’m taking my friend to the nearest ER and having her examined and tested. I strongly suggest that you, and everyone here, do the same.”
“Well now, your concern for us is touching, Miss Perkins, but unwarranted I can assure you,” a deep voice called out from behind me.
With a start, I turned and sucked in a shallow breath of fear at what I found.
Cara had disappeared, along with my sweater, which held my cell phone and the car keys. And at the top of the stairs stood a man who was a darker, more menacing version of the one behind me.
The two men’s voices held the same rich timbre, but this one’s British accent was more relaxed. And while their faces were equally handsome, Develyn Blackwell’s appearance was definitely different.
For starters, he wasn’t as pale. In fact, he looked like he was wearing make-up, blush and lipstick. He had long, flowing black hair and was dressed in clothing of a time long past. He wore tall, polished black boots, tight fitting black breeches and a white ruffled shirt opened to his navel.
Although he looked like a Goth rock star, there was nothing frivolous or ridiculous about his demeanor. There was no mistaking the sense of raw power, sensuality or cruelty that emanated from him.
When he raised his hand and motioned for me to come to him, I did. And as I neared, the fear I had taken in began to spread from my lungs and throughout my body until I was trembling all over. Even my voice was shaky when I dared to ask how he knew my name.
As Develyn’s dark eyes brazenly raked me over, his full red lips pulled back into a grin, revealing perfect white teeth, and he said, “Why, from our mutual friend, Cara, of course. In fact, she’s told me a great deal about you, Emily Rose Perkins. And I must admit my interest in a woman hasn’t been this aroused for some time now.”
There was no mistaking what Develyn was really referring to and I was on the verge of breaking down. “I don’t know what she’s told you, but I want no part of this.”
“Part of what, Emily?” he toyed viciously.
“Wh, whatever is happening here tonight. Please, please, just let me go,” I begged, noting how his grin widened with pleasure.
With dramatic tisking, he shook his dark head and leaned in to whisper at my ear, “What? No bargains? No promises to keep mum. Not to contact the authorities. Or tell anyone about this night.”
Now, I hadn’t said those things or made such promises because the truth was, I was going to call the police the first chance I got and he knew it.
Snickering softly, he said, “I thought as much. I’m sorry, but you should have listened to Robbie and left while you had the chance, Emily. It’s simply too late now,” he muttered and spun me around so that I was back down the stairs . . . Facing David, who seemed to be frozen where he stood on the stairs.
The moment our eyes met, David pulled me into another trance and all I was conscious of was Develyn’s hot hands at my shoulders. I could feel them burning through the thin fabric of the uniform and as they traveled downward along my bared skin, they scorched a trail behind them. With his fingers, he gently turned my wrists, revealing the soft pale undersides of my arms. Keeping our right arms extended, he brought our left arms, his shadowing mine, up to wrap around my waist and he pulled me close against his burning body. I felt his hot breath at my temple, his pounding heart between my shoulder blades and his engorged groin against the small of my back.
I knew something horrible was going to happen to me, but I was completely defenseless against it. I was screaming on the inside, ‘Oh God! What were they going to do? Perform a bloodletting ceremony on me too? Rape? Both? Worse? Oh God, please help me!’
When David’s coldly uttered, “Don’t touch her,” broke the trance, I heard, between my gasps for air, Develyn say, “What’s this? You’re just now intervening?”
“Yes,” David hissed back as he advanced on us.
“But, dear brother, you and your man already had your chance with her. Losing your touch are we,” he taunted.
And that is when I felt it. A sharp, burning sensation at the crease of my right arm.
With a cry, I looked over and saw that Develyn had been wearing some sort of device over his thumb.
It was an intrica
tely carved silver talon, inlaid with rubies and diamonds that had been sharpened to a fine point. A point that had pierced into my flesh and vein, bringing forth a trickle of bright red blood.
At seeing this, I wailed in agony and fear.
“Sshh,” Develyn whispered at my ear. “You needn’t worry about your mortal diseases, Emily. I assure you this stryker has never touched another. You are the first it has pricked. Isn’t that right, dear brother,” he said, his voice dropping low.
Through the tears that sprang to my eyes, I saw David’s eyes narrow dangerously and I heard him mutter, “Damn you, Develyn.”
With another dramatic tisking, he replied. “Now, now. You know very well that has already been said and done, dear brother. After all, isn’t that precisely how and why we’ve arrived at this very point,” he said, accentuating his words by cruelly pressing the talon further into my arm.
Grimacing in pain, I looked in horror from my bleeding arm back to David, finally screaming aloud at what I saw.
His handsome face had transformed into a frightening mask of rage and hunger. His eyes appeared black, as if the pupils dilated until there was no longer an iris. His nostrils were flared and his jaw clenched tightly, as if he were fighting the urge to attack me.
With a chuckle, Develyn tightened his hold on me until I thought my ribs would crack and he offered my bleeding arm to his brother, saying, “Take her. Mark her, if that’s all you can bear to do. But whatever you decide, dear brother, do it now! Or I promise, this night I will take her and make her mine in every possible way.”
With an anguished growl, David gave in at last and declared aloud, “She’s mine!”
At first, his fingertips felt as cold as ice and his lips were freezing. But as he drank, forcibly pulling the blood through my veins and drawing it into his mouth, he began to warm. And my last coherent thought was that his lips and tongue were burning me.
Shannon Bailey - [Blackwell 01] Page 2
